Page 54 of Severed Heart

Silence fills the space, and I rub my trembling hands together to keep him from noticing. Something I’m sure he’ll attribute to the drink. When more loud laughter bursts from behind the door, it’s all I can do to keep from flinching. Needing the distraction, I look up at him from my chair and eye him just as speculatively. “Do you despise me, Jean Dominic?”

So tall now, so angry. Much more than Ezekiel was. So ready to hurt the world that hurt him—to hurt me. Celine’s face crosses my mind as I stare at her youngest son. In it, I see the care she gave me, the tenderness forever there. Always patiently reaching out to embrace whatever side of me was visible. I know it as a truth that the same capability resides in both of her sons. Though when he doesn’t answer, I take his silence as confirmation I have earned his hate.

“Rest well knowing Celine would be disappointed in me much like you because she was so very kind, Dominic. So selfless.”

He stands idly by for a long moment.

“You never talk about them,” he finally says. It’s then I spot the red wings drifting through the snow as the image fills my mind.

The same bird . . .

I stretch forward, leaning into the memory as the cardinal lands on the fence in front of us.

“Beau! Beau, look!” Celine exclaims next to me as Jean Dominic stands again for his second attempt to walk. Nearby, Beau smiles down at his son as he shakily stands in the yard, surrounded by bright green grass. Jean looks up to Beau as I hold out my hands to encourage him forward.

“Come to me, Jean Dominic!” I urge the beautiful baby as he inches toward me.

“Alain, look!” I call over to him, where he sits with Ezekiel, helping him assemble a toy from Dominic’s recent birthday party. Alain lifts his eyes, watching Jean Dominic take his first step, landing into my arms before Celine greedily takes him from me, beaming with pride.

“He did it!”

“Maybe he would have taken another if you hadn’t stopped him,” Beau jokes, his red hair glinting in the sun as his eyes, too, glitter with pride on Jean Dominic.

Shifting my focus back to Alain, I find him looking at me much the way he did when we first began as a couple in France. We’ve been together now for some time, but only mere weeks of our marriage have truly been good. Since Beau and Celine joined us in America—not long after I arrived—Alain’s been much less violent. My suspicion is that Beau has something to do with it. But it’s Alain’s return stare now which gives me hope. Maybe this year, maybe . . .

“Do you believe in fate, Dominic?” I whisper hoarsely as that sunny day beams through the drifting snow before shuttering out, my eyes misting with the gift of the memory.

Thank you, God. Thank you!

“Really?” he jabs. “That’swhat you’re leading with?”

“With good reason. The day you took your first steps was in the backyard ofthis house. There, right next to the fence.” The image fresh in my mind, I point toward a brown patch of grass being rapidly dusted with snow. “Just after, a cardinal landed, and I remember your parents walking you over to it.”

When he further steps into view, I watch him eye the bird without much interest before he speaks. “And that constitutes your tears?”

“Must you humiliate me every fucking day, Dominic?” I whisper before taking a long sip of drink. “You may think me a silly woman for my sentiments. But it was a rare good day. I still miss your mother. Very much.”

And I remembered, I remembered!

An old memory made new, one I pray stays with me. Tears of happiness sting my eyes as I push the emotion down to speak.

“No one ever spoke about my parents or grandparents either,” I offer him. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted that.”

He pinches his brows. “What were they like? My grandparents?”

Ezekiel knows I’m not his true aunt, but I’ve never told Jean Dominic. Ezekiel knows that I don’t want my past shared with his brother yet but insists it will help our relationship. But because of Jean Dominic’s constant verbal contempt, I have yet to do so. His resentment is still too strong for him to consider me for any understanding. For Celine, I’ll keep trying. For myself, too, and for the affection I harbor for the boy I taught with my own behavior to hate me.

“As you know, your mother no longer contacted them once she got here because of Abijah.”

He nods.

“Your grandparents were good people. Francis was kind. Hardworking. Considerate. Marine was strict but attentive. Your mother was very close to her. They were good enough to take me in when I was separated from my father.”

Dominic’s eyes widen in surprise at my admission. “What. The. Actual.Fuck?”

“Your mother was not my true sister.”

“I’m getting that,” he snaps. “Does Tobias know?”