Page 7 of The Best of Us (The Costa Family #4)

Chapter 7

Juliette

Present Day

I set my hands on Constantine’s wrists, a silent request to let go of me so I could explain. “I have something to show you.”

Hesitation passed over his hard, masculine features. Faint lines formed around his eyes, and the ones in his forehead deepened. The tightening of his lips was the final straw that had me worried he may not hear me out. And if he did, would he believe me?

But then the word, “Okay,” slipped free from his lips, restoring hope in my heart that he’d listen.

All these years, and you’re really here. Colin found you.

It was the thing of movies and romance novels, not real life.

But I wouldn’t better-late-than-never my way through this. Not when Colin had been the one to suffer.

And now, Constantine was, too. The idea of missing out on sixteen years of my son’s life was unimaginable. But for the man before me, it was now his reality.

And that broke my heart. Shattered it into a million pieces all over again. Just as it had when Easton gave me the news his contact couldn’t track down my mystery man.

“Come with me.” I started for my bedroom, and he followed behind, but he didn’t join me in my room.

Instead, he stood in the doorway like a statement, leaning one broad shoulder against the frame while crossing his ankles and arms. His eyes remained fixed on my bed. I highly doubted the rigidness of his body had to do with a disdain for the color purple or beds in general.

You think I kept him from you. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

When I turned away from him, a chill darted up my back and spread throughout my body, causing a slight chatter of my back teeth. Once at my dresser, I caught his eyes in the mirror, and the pensive and painful expression pointed my way made me want to shrivel up and disappear.

I couldn’t bear looking at him with that kind of hurt in his eyes, so I reset my attention on the task at hand—to share the truth about the past.

Here goes.

Removing a Ziploc bag hidden beneath my socks in the top dresser drawer, I turned and approached him, extending the offering between us.

His gaze slanted over it, and his foot dropped to the floor as he straightened his stance and took it from me.

He’d easily be able to see the marker had bled through the napkin and was mostly smudged and illegible. He lowered the Ziploc bag to his side as he studied me, waiting for an explanation.

“When I woke up, and you were gone, I realized I made a mistake wanting to be strangers. But I was too late.”

I shared the rest of the story with him—from jumping naked into the pool for the napkin to taking off for the airport to chase after him.

“Security wouldn’t let me through since my flight wasn’t until the morning.” I lowered my eyes and shook my head, remembering that night and what a basket case I’d been. “I showed them the napkin. Even told them part of our story, thinking maybe they’d make an exception. No luck. Guess that only happens in movies.”

I slowly looked up at him, curious about what was happening in his head. He’d remained dead quiet during what may have come across as a little too “ O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo ” dramatic. It was all true, though. Zero acting on my part. But very much a tragedy.

Constantine stepped back, murmuring, “You wanted me, too?”

I swallowed. Processed the pain in his tone, then finally confirmed with a soft, “I did.”

It was a slow journey for his eyes to return to mine, but when they did, I wasn’t expecting to find his glossy. “You wanted me, too,” he repeated, his voice raw.

My tears rebelled against my inner pleas to not fall. “I’m so sorry.” Those words were far too weak for the actual weight of what I was feeling. “You wanted my name, and if I’d only given it to you?—”

“No, don’t go there. Not your fault.” He stepped inside my room, swiftly drawing his arm behind my back and my body against his.

My hands rested between us against his chest. His heart beat frantically beneath my palm, not matching mine beat for beat, but outpacing it at double the speed.

“Are you okay?” I whispered as he continued to study me quietly. I’d blown a hole in his world. Maybe he needed to save what little oxygen he had left by not speaking.

He remained quiet, and I wasn’t sure how long I could stand there, not knowing what he was thinking, without collapsing to my knees.

“Tell me more,” he said, and it was my turn to hesitate, feeling “more” would only hurt him as much as it did me.

My body shuddered beneath his touch as he ran his palm up and down my spine. The fabric of my top did nothing to lessen the sensation and energy of his caress.

“Well, um, it took about a month for me to discover I was pregnant. I was so confused since we used protection. And there was no one else, I promise.”

I waited for him to question me, but he didn’t.

“My stepbrother was in the military, and I had this ridiculous idea that he could somehow use his government resources and contacts to figure out who you were based on your first initial and the fact you had an accent.” I realized how na?ve that idea was, but desperate times . . .

He looked up at the ceiling, jaw tightening, a wave of hurt probably rolling through him. He was trying to fight the battle of his pain by himself, as I once had to do. “Go on,” he requested a moment later, not yet looking at me.

“My brother reached out to, um, a friend at the CIA. The guy could only get ahold of a profile shot of you, and he said it was too pixelated. I asked him to send it to me, but he wouldn’t. Something about already violating national security by helping me.”

“Juliette.” My name came out like a sigh as he lowered his chin.

A hundred if onlys climbed into my mind, unearthing the what-ifs I’d tried to bury long ago.

If only I gave you my name. If only the napkin hadn’t gotten wet. Never an if only we hadn’t met, though. Nor an if only I hadn’t gotten pregnant.

I needed him to understand the lengths I went to find him. I needed him to know—to believe—that I never wanted to keep his son from him.

“When that failed, I tried to get guest records for the hotels on the island. Flight manifests for that night. But hotels and airlines take privacy laws seriously.”

He said my name again, this time like it was the last breath left in his lungs. He leaned off to the side and set the bag on the nearby nightstand.

“What are you thinking?” My tongue pinned to the roof of my mouth as I waited for him to finish processing. “I’ve had seventeen years to accept what happened, so if you need time, I get it.”

He framed my cheeks with his hands, and I closed my eyes. He brought his mouth to my ear. “This is my fault.” I didn’t have time to absorb his words because he dropped another dose of heavy on me within seconds. “I could have had you found, and I didn’t.”

Had me found? How? I pulled back, removing his hands from my face to better look at him.

His strong shoulders broke forward. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I knew your hotel name and villa number. I could’ve paid someone off to access the records and get your information. But I knew what I’d do with your name if I had it. The temptation would be too much. I’d jump ship—literally , I was in the Navy on a sub—and swim through the depths of Hell to get to you. But I figured if I found you, you’d reject me. I told myself you would have called if you wanted to see me again. I let my ego and pride get in the way.” He hung his head, tearing his hands through his hair. “I convinced myself you didn’t want me. That I wasn’t good for you. But you have no idea how much I?—”

Shock, not gravity, pulled me down, and he abandoned whatever he planned to say at the sight. My knees slammed to the floor as I replayed his admission.

“I should have come for you.” He crouched in front of me, drawing his finger under my chin. “I should’ve come,” he added emphatically.

Goose bumps wrecked my skin, creating an entire grid of chaos across my body. “You didn’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter. I should have come,” he said in a firm voice. “You raised our son by yourself. You needed me. He needed me. And I wasn’t there.” His voice became so painfully raw, it hurt to hear.

I tracked the path of one of my tears as it became lost between us on the scuffed-up hardwoods.

His hand left my chin, and he shifted backward, sitting on the floor. His legs stretched out in front of him, and he buried his fingertips into the back of his skull, elbows drawing together.

“Constantine.” I wasn’t thinking clearly, only focusing on his pain, so when I crawled over to him, I climbed onto his lap, straddling him.

He let his arms fall to his sides, and I buried my face at his shoulder and neck, my fingers twisting up the hair at the back of his head as I cried.

He didn’t push me away.

He didn’t remind me we were still just strangers.

Instead, he cradled the back of my head, holding me in place as his other hand slid up and down my back, the stroking motions soothing both of us.

We sat there quietly for a few minutes. Both of us grieving the time he lost with his son, the time Colin lost with his father.

It was his turn to break the silence. Without letting go of me, he rasped, “You named him Colin because of my first initial?”

“Yes.” I sniffled. “I don’t understand how . . . I mean . . . after all this time . . . and he stole from you.” I sat upright to look at his face. I was a snotty mess and didn’t have it in me to care.

His big hands softly caressed the sides of my arms as we remained locked on to one another.

“You know, Colin’s been obsessed with the city since we visited here with his uncle in 2019. I’m not much of a big-city girl, though.” I licked my wet, salty lips. “His dream school is NYU, if he can ever stop getting into fights to get in.” Story for later. “I didn’t want to be far away from him for college, so I figured the sooner we move here, the better.”

“My sister went to NYU.” The emotion in his tone was palpable, but no tears fell.

You have family, which means Colin has more now, too. So much to learn.

“Do you think Colin’s been obsessed with this city because he could feel you here when we visited? Is that crazy?”

“No crazier than you being drawn to my sister’s church. Or our son stealing my wallet. And I only wanted it back because of something she wrote to me that was inside it.”

“Wait, what?” I rewound what he’d said, but before I could ask a follow-up question, he spoke again.

“Colin told me where you were.” He stopped stroking my arms but didn’t let go. His eyes had a whole world of hurt in them, and something told me that wasn’t just about Colin. “Not crazy, no,” he added when I’d yet to cut through the uncomfortable quiet. “And I’d rather not talk about my sister.”

Ohhh. Oh God. Chills coasted up and down my arms, pebbling my skin. He probably noticed because he resumed soothing me again.

“What do we do now?” he asked.

I shifted around on his lap, the reality of where and what I was sitting on settling in.

“My body doesn’t give a damn what we’re talking about,” he said, as if reading my thoughts. “Your ass is there and you’re kinda moving around.”

My Scottish had to be showing through my fair skin. I was hot in the face and probably blushing all over. “I should get you off.” Oh. My. God. “I mean, get off you.”

His hands found a new home on my burning-hot cheeks. “You’re still the same girl I met back then, aren’t you?”

“Maybe?”

“Our son is lucky to have you as his mother.”

His words were the final nail in the coffin of my heart, and I was two seconds away from a full-on sob, prepared to list off a million ways I’d failed, but the words “our son” triumphed over the guilt and regret.

“We’ll tell him tomorrow. Is that okay with you?” I deflected, remembering Colin would return soon, so now wasn’t the time to go any deeper.

“Not now?” His hands returned to my arms.

“I’d call out of work tonight, but I’m already on thin ice. We can’t just drop this on him, and I walk out the door later. He’s waited his whole life for this news.”

He nodded. “Right, that makes sense.”

The pain he had to be feeling was terrible, and I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemies.

“I have a thing tonight, anyway, so tomorrow works.”

Thing? Not my business to ask. “Okay, good. Well, I have the rest of the weekend off. That will give us time after we share the news so he can process it. Do you have plans on Saturday and Sunday?”

“I’ll change them,” he said without hesitation.

“Good, um, thanks.” I shifted around again, and the side of his lips crooked into a semi-smile. “Sorry.”

He angled his head, his smile stretching. “I’m not, but Colin may not react well if he finds us like this.”

Good point. I scooted back onto his thighs, and once I was off him, we both stood.

He turned away from me, and I could tell he was adjusting himself by his movements. I stifled a grin as he turned back to face me a beat later, swiping his finger at the neck of his dress shirt as if trying to distance himself from what he’d just done.

Needing a distraction, I returned the Ziploc to my dresser before Colin came home.

Constantine came up behind me and set a palm on the dresser. He leaned close without our bodies touching as he met my eyes in the mirror. “In case I didn’t clarify, I want to be in your lives.”

The weight of a million tomorrows lifted from my shoulders.

“And you should know that whatever you two need, I’ll give you. A million times over.”

“We don’t need your money.”

“Too bad. You’ve got it.” He thinned his eyes as a challenge not to object.

The fact that he didn’t ask for a blood test to prove he was his son made me feel better. I was sure most men would have requested one, and I’d have obliged, but still.

He looked down at the chipped white paint on my dresser, and I couldn’t help but notice scars on his arms I didn't remember being there in Aruba. “Are you seeing anyone?” he asked, catching me off guard.

“Colin has a pesky habit of scaring off every man who’s tried to stay in my life for the long term. I gave up dating years ago.” I wasn’t about to let him in on the secret that I hadn’t been kissed in five years, either.

We remained silent for nearly a minute before he broke the quiet, changing gears and asking, “You left the picture in the locket on purpose, didn’t you? You were testing to see if it was me, and if I would recognize you?”

“Guilty.” I lifted one shoulder. “I wasn’t even sure yet myself. My gut said it was you, but my gut is usually wrong.” Memories from the time he’d touched my body forever ago filled my mind, and a warm, tingling sensation slipped up my spine. We still have chemistry, that’s for sure. “Are you, um, seeing someone?”

“If I were, I’d never have let a beautiful woman sit on my lap, mother of my child or not.”

Oh.

Double OH.

“So no”—he let the words sink in—“I’m not.”

And I was feverishly warm all over again, yet I shifted around to face him.

He didn’t move and kept up with the sexy lean thing he had going. I wasn’t in a rush to change the fact that he was occupying my personal space. Being this close to him awakened more memories of our time together.

His free hand went to my waist like it belonged there. “What are you thinking about?”

How we made our son. And thank you, thank you to my mouth for keeping that as a thought only. “Just remembering.”

His fingertips bit into my flesh, but before he could say—or do—anything, the sound of the front door opening sent me bumping into the dresser and him letting go of me.

“He can’t find you in here. Bathroom is across the hall.”

A flicker of a smile ghosted his lips, but he followed orders. Something told me he wasn’t used to being told what to do, but he didn’t mind listening to me.

I quickly checked my appearance in the mirror. Thankfully, I rarely wore makeup to my overnight shifts, so I didn’t need to clean up any smudged mascara beneath my eyes.

“Mom?” Colin filled the doorway, a brown bag cradled in his right arm.

I quickly spun around to face him, hoping I didn’t blurt the truth he’d waited his whole life to hear. Your father’s here.

“Everything okay?” he asked before turning when the bathroom door opened. “Oh, you. You’re still here.”

I didn’t have to see his face to know he’d just eye-rolled the hell out of his father.

Constantine stepped into my view, engaging in a staring contest with Colin. “I should probably go,” he said a minute later.

“What about breakfast? And, Colin, you owe him his change.”

“I’m good.” Constantine lifted a hand, waving away the idea of staying. “Don’t worry about the change.”

“Is something going on with you two?” Colin lowered the bag to his side before snapping to Constantine, “You told her about the ring, didn’t you?”

“What ring?” I blurted out, stepping forward.

Constantine shot Colin a funny look, lightly shaking his head.

“Er, uh, nothing.” Colin hoisted the bag back up into the crook of his arm. “I meant the locket.” He grumbled something under his breath, then took off for the kitchen.

I went over to Constantine, curious about what was going on. Why’d it feel like they were keeping a secret from me? “There something I should know?”

Constantine dragged a palm over his mouth and down his tanned throat. In a low voice, he admitted, “This is going to take some getting used to.”