Holy shit. Nick backed away from the bed until he bumped the wall behind him, his gaze steady on the frail, unconscious woman he’d once loved with everything in him. She wouldn’t have done that to him. It was one thing to walk away, but to take his son? Son.
“No,” he mumbled. “No.” Pushed by a silent force, he turned on his heel and bolted out the door. In the hall, his gaze darted from side to side. He needed answers. Now. Just ahead he spotted the sign for the waiting room. The lawyer. She’d know.
With every step his pace quickened until he was practically running down the last strip of hallway. Gripping the frame with one hand, he flung himself through the door and skidded to a stop. A woman, maybe fiftyish with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a dark suit, sat with her hands folded in her lap. Beside her, Kara read to a little boy.
Nick studied the child with as much neutrality as he could muster. He didn’t have a whole lot of experience with little boys. Well, make that any experience, but still if he had to guess, he’d say the kid was maybe four or five years old. Five. If the boy were his, he’d be five. From where Nick stood, he saw a cute little kid with a mop of curly dark hair enjoying the story. The scene could have been any mother and son. Only he’d bet the Kona Queen this wasn’t Kara’s son. He was Patty Ann’s. And maybe his.
As questions of how and why circled in his head, he forced himself to remain silent, to wait for the end of the story, for the small child to raise his face so Nick could see. And then what? If paternity could be pegged at a glance, there’d be no need for DNA. Finally, Kara said the waited words, the end, and the little boy gleefully looked up at the woman and asked, “Now can I see Mommy?”
Five words and Nick felt the vise around his heart tighten another notch. Patty Ann had been his lover, his friend, his heartbreak, but she was this little boy’s mommy.
He took a step forward, and all eyes in the room turned to him. Someone might as well have sucker punched him in the solar plexis. Crystal blue eyes stared up at him. The same eyes he looked at every day in the mirror.
“My God,” he breathed.
There’d be no need for DNA. Anyone who had ever seen a photograph of Nick as a small child would swear in a court of law that this was the same boy.
Nadene's addiction to reading began at an early age, when a family friend gifted her a copy of Wuthering Heights. From that moment she was never without a book.She will read anything as long the material is compelling enough to hold her attention. She gained many experiences through the pages of the books she had the opportunity to read.She created this blog to share her love of books with like minded individuals hopes that in sharing reviews of the books read visitors to the blog will discover their next addictive read. When not reading, Nadene enjoys cooking, listening to music and watching television.
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