Chapter 7
And built a life.
Alone.
Now, five years later, outside Hartsfield-Jackson Airport, Declan looked at me as though I had just told him gravity had stopped working.
“You never told me.”
The words were so absurd I almost laughed.
“What?”
“You never told me.”
Amelia stepped forward.
“Oh, absolutely not.”
I held up a hand.
“Amelia.”
“No, Cassidy.
Five years.
Five freaking years, and he is not standing here pretending—”
“I told you,” I said.
Declan shook his head.
“No.”
“I called you.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I told you I was pregnant.”
His expression changed from shock to anger.
“Cassidy, do not do this.”
“Do what?”
“Rewrite history because these girls exist.”
My daughters were watching.
That mattered more than anything.
I looked at Amelia.
“Take them inside the car.”
“I want Mommy,” Harper whispered.
I crouched.
“Mommy’s coming in one minute.”
Sophie pointed at Declan.
“Who is he?”
My heart twisted.
I smoothed her hair.
“Someone Mommy used to know.”
Declan flinched.
Amelia loaded them into the SUV.
Once the doors closed, I turned back.
“I called you the night I found out.”
His jaw tightened.
“I would remember my former wife telling me she was pregnant.”
“You accused me of manipulating you for money.”
“No.”
“I invited you to the ultrasound.”
“No.”
“I sent you pictures.”
“Cassidy.”
“You instructed me to communicate only through attorneys.”
“I never received any of that.”
I stared at him.
Something in his tone frightened me.
Not because he sounded deceptive.
Because he didn’t.
Declan could lie.
I knew exactly what it looked like.
His left shoulder became rigid.
His speech slowed.
His eyes held yours too deliberately.
I had watched him do it in business meetings.
But now?
He looked bewildered.
“No,” I whispered.
“I swear to you.”
I stepped backward.
“That’s impossible.”
“Show me.”
“What?”
“The messages.”
My stomach tightened.
“I changed phones years ago.”
“Cloud backup?”
“I don’t know.”
“Cassidy, please.”
The word
please
sounded unnatural coming from him.
I looked at the SUV.
Three little silhouettes waited behind tinted glass.
“I’m going home.”
“I need to see them.”
“No.”
His face hardened.
“They’re my daughters.”
“You learned that ninety seconds ago.”
“And you’ve known for nearly five years.”
“Which apparently puts me five years ahead of you in understanding what they need.”
He stepped closer.
“I didn’t know.”
I lowered my voice.
“Then figure out why.”
And I got into the SUV.