Homestands (Chicago Wind #1) (34 page)

No. He shoved the phone back, his hand shaking. Oh no.

He coughed into his fist, ran his hand down his throat.
Quit stalling, Connor. Read the thing.

He did.

If she really had used his DNA…

Then he had another son.

Mike closed his eyes, pinched his nose. “I want my own test done.”

“Fine. Won’t change anything.”

What was Meg going to say? He swallowed. His hands were sweating. This would ruin them. Again.
God, please…

Please
what
?

“Why now? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because I didn’t know.” She looked away, then down to her lap. “I’d been with Damon longer than I’d told you.”

Damon, the rising football star she’d left him for. Mike leaned back in his chair, blew out a deep breath. “How long have you known?”

“Only this year. Since March.”

He nodded, even though none of it made sense. “How’d you find out?”

“Well…” She fiddled with her nails. “Damon and I didn’t last real long. And I really
did
think he was the father. You and I… we were already drifting apart so…”

Mike closed his eyes. Rubbed his forehead.

“Anyway, I have cancer. And I’m not doing well. May not make it. Actually, probably won’t.” She flashed him a smile as if she found that ironic, in some way. “I’m getting my affairs in order.”

He took in her skin color, her short hair. Was that hair even hers?

“Of course that means I need to make sure Noah is taken care of. And who better than his father, right? Except Damon hasn’t seen Noah since we split up. So when I
finally
get in touch with Damon, he demands a paternity test. And lo and behold, he isn’t Noah’s father. You might not believe me, but that does leave only you.” She shrugged. “The test proved it.”

He watched her, trying to take it all in. Another son, raised by a woman he’d quickly known he never wanted children with. He looked down at the picture again, at a little boy with blond hair like Terrell. With all his baby teeth, like Terrell. With a wide smile that wasn’t like Terrell’s but was just like Brooke’s.

His throat tightened. His chest shook. Not now, not in public.
Get a grip, Connor
. He sucked in a deep, loud breath. Covered his mouth with one hand.

Another child. Another son—and he wasn’t Meg’s. How on earth was he supposed to build a family with Meg now? What would she say?

He fought back the emotion, shaking once, twice, with the effort. He had to get out of here.

But where did he go for privacy in a city filled with diehard baseball fans? He wasn’t taking Brooke to his room. That was for sure.

He sniffed, wiped his nose, picked up the picture.

A son. Noah, his son. Except… Mike could barely speak above a whisper. “What’s his last name?”

Brooke sighed. “He has Damon’s name.”

Mike dropped the picture, buried his face in his hands. Lost control of those emotions he’d fought so hard.

“Mike.”

He turned his face to the wall. Right now he needed Meg. Needed her badly, and yet… Telling her would break her heart all over again. She’d hurt just as much as he did.

Maybe worse.

There was no good solution, was there? No matter what he did—told Meg, took in his son by himself, told Brooke no—no matter what, someone would hurt.

Terribly.

And it would all start with Meg. He straightened, looked up at the ceiling, dried his face. He needed her right now. Needed to know it would be all right.

Even though it wouldn’t be all right.
Couldn’t
be all right.

He dug his phone out of his pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m calling Meg. We need to find some place to work this out.” He closed his eyes.
Meg, I’m so—

His phone rang, Meg’s picture appearing on the screen. He pressed Answer.

“Mike?” she said immediately.

“Hey. I, uh—” He couldn’t speak, couldn’t form another word without losing it. What a mess he’d made of everything.

“Mike, what’s going on?”

“We need to talk.” He hated how his voice shook. “I’m coming up. Someone will be with me.”

“Brooke?”

How did she know?

“Mike, I’m outside the restaurant.” Now her voice was shaking too. “Mike,
what
is going on?”

The last time Meg had heard Mike this way… She clutched her phone, the call gone. The last time had been when he’d come home for one night before going back to Brooke.

One night.

It couldn’t be happening all over again, could it?

“Meg?”

She whirled at Mike’s voice behind her.

He looked horrible. Had he been crying? She hurried the few steps to him. “What’s wrong?”

He wouldn’t look at her. His mouth trembled, and he pressed a fist against his lips.

Had something happened to Terrell? His family? “Mike, you’re scaring me. What’s happening?”

He finally looked at her, heartbreak all over his face. “We need to go upstairs.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

“Brooke needs to come too.”

Brooke.
So the picture was exactly as she’d been told.

The woman stepped around Mike. Nodded.

Meg stared at her. She was short, too thin, and clearly not well. There was nothing attractive about the woman, not in this condition anyway. Meg bit her lip. “Brooke.”

The woman had the decency to look down at her hands.

Why was she back? What had she done that had Mike upset like this? Meg straightened her spine. “Let’s go.” Whatever was going on, they just needed to get it over with. And send Brooke on her way.

The elevator ride seemed never ending.

At her suite, Meg unlocked the door and led the way inside. She glanced at Brooke, then motioned toward the couch. “Have a seat.”

Mike let the door close behind him.

Then stood there.

Meg waited for whatever nightmare Brooke had unleashed on them.

Mike looked at her. “Meg—” His face crumpled. He reached for her. Grabbed her and held her tightly.

God, what is happening?
She clung to him while he cried against her neck. Her own tears trickled down her cheeks, tears for whatever pain Mike was going through.
God, help us
, she begged again. “Will you just tell me?” she whispered into his shoulder. “Just say it, Mike.”

“Meg, I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” She pushed him up, watched him wipe the tears from his face.

He still wouldn’t look at her.

She moved so he’d have to. “Please. Talk to me.”

He nodded. Sniffed. Cleared his throat. Dug into his back pocket and pulled out a picture.

Meg took it.

Brooke and a little boy. A boy who looked so much like Terrell that…

“No.” Her own moan startled her. “Oh, Mike.”

They held each other again, the tears coming as if they’d never end. Meg clutched him tightly, her heart breaking with his. Another child. With a different woman.

How was this supposed to work?

Mike cupped her face with his hands, his red eyes locked with hers. “Meg, I can’t even say—” He couldn’t finish. “I’m making you go through it a second time.”

She nodded. Yes, it was a staggering heartbreak, a horrible betrayal all over again.

Except that Mike was different. His remorse was real. He had sorrow—deep, gut-wrenching sorrow that somehow comforted her.

Here, in the midst of this awful pain, she felt safe. Secure with Mike.

This new Mike.

But there was still a little boy they needed to talk about. And a mother who would somehow have to fit into the picture.

How, God?
Brooke couldn’t be a part of their life. No way could she handle Mike travelling to Brooke’s home to see his son. Couldn’t handle Brooke dropping by every weekend to pick up her child. Couldn’t handle this woman being around from now until another little boy was old enough to do the visiting on his own.

And yet this was Mike’s son. His child. Part of him.

A huge part of him.

His words were quiet, his breath warm against her cheek. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m trying to solve it. And I can’t.”

He nodded, misery on his face.

Meg faced Brooke.

The woman sat on the couch, watching them, but when their eyes met, Brooke looked away.

Something about this wasn’t right. Brooke wasn’t here to win Mike back.

There had to be more.

Meg clutched Mike’s hand and led him to the chairs opposite Brooke. “So…” She wasn’t going to lash out at this woman. With God’s help, she’d be calm. Gracious. Even though everything in her longed to hurt Brooke. “I’m guessing there are things I need to hear. This little boy belongs to Mike?”

“Yes.” Brooke bit her lip. “Meg, I want to apologize—”

“Thank you.” Her name coming from Brooke made her sick. “But I can’t hear that right now. Just tell me what’s happened. Why are you here?”

Mike’s voice was hushed. “She’s got cancer.”

The yellowed skin, the thin frame… “Are you…”

“Am I dying? Yes. That seems to be the case, barring a miracle.”

Things began to fall into place. “And you decided it was time to tell Mike.”

“Well, his father at least. Turns out, the man I thought was Noah’s father, wasn’t. That left Mike.”

Noah.
A name she’d loved. A name she’d considered for Terrell, based on the meaning.

Consolation.

She’d vacillated between the two names, finally choosing the one that gave way to her revenge. Terrell. Powerful.

But her power against Mike had backfired. She’d hurt him horribly, and watching him now, watching him agonize over a child he’d lost years with…
God, forgive me
. Fresh tears coursed down her cheeks. That power had only been used against them both. If she’d told Mike she was expecting their child, their whole history could have been rewritten.

But now, here, after all these years was consolation in Noah, a little boy who would, very soon, need a new mother.

Could she be it?

Meg squared her shoulders, grabbed Mike’s hand.

He looked at her, his gaze cautious.

She squeezed his hand.

He squeezed back.

It was time to move forward. Whatever Mike needed, whatever Noah needed, she’d do it. No matter how it might hurt at times. “Why are we here, Brooke?”

She shrugged, but her lips pressed against each other, the first sign that maybe this was hard for her too. “I want Mike to take his son when I’m gone.”

Meg closed her eyes. How awful to be forced into making such plans. To lie in bed at night, wondering who to give her precious child to.

She opened her eyes. Caught Mike’s gaze. “Well?” she asked him.

He looked at Brooke, then back at Meg. “Brooke, can you give us some time?”

“Where do you want me to go?”

Meg pointed to the bedroom door.

When Brooke was behind the closed door, Meg let her shoulders slump.

“I’m so sorry, Meg.” His voice was weak, broken. “Everything I did to you—it’s come back to hurt you all over again.”

Yes, it had. There was no denying that.

His grip on her hand tightened. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He faced her, agony etched across his features. “Am I going to lose you? I’d understand if you…” He lost control again and tried to hide his face in his hands.

“Mike.” How badly he hurt—and how badly it hurt to watch him. She pulled him to his feet. “Mike, hold me. Please.”

He crushed her in his arms.

His tight hold had never felt so good.

“I can’t lose you again, Meg.” His lips moved against her hair. “I can’t do it. Please. You don’t know how sorry—”

“Mike, I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“How? How can you love me? After all of this?”

How? “The same way you can love me. Brooke didn’t mean to keep your son from you. I did. What I did to you was awful. Wicked.” Tears clogged her throat as the way she’d hurt Mike became far more clear to her than it ever had before. “That you could love
me
, Mike, after what I’ve done to you…”

“Meg, that’s behind us.”

“Then so is Brooke.” She pushed him up, met his eyes. “I can’t say it won’t be hard to have a little boy around who doesn’t belong to me. Because I’m pretty sure that it will be at first. But if you want to take him in…”
God, help me.
“If you want to make him part of our family—”

“Meg—”

“Then I’ll do it.”

He let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-cry.

“I mean it, Mike. He’s yours. He’s part of you. So he should be with you.”

“That’s what I want.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Ah, Meg.” He wrapped her in his arms again, this time his hold more gentle.

Meg rested against his chest, and Mike’s cheek pressed against the top of her head.

He sniffed above her. “Meg Connor, will you marry me?”

Laughter broke through her tears.

“I’m serious. I want to marry you and have time with you and Terrell before we need to take in… before Noah. I want time for us before we have to make that adjustment. So I’m asking…” He pulled back and looked at her. “Man, I stink at proposals. First, Burger King. Now this. Why’d you ever say yes to begin with?”

Meg’s laughter grew.

“What do you see in me?” The smile on his face faded. “Seriously. Why do you love me?”

“Because you’re Terrell’s father. Because you’re a good father. Because you’re a good man now, Mike. You love God. Already you’ve let him change you. But most of all?” She breathed in slowly. Now was not when she wanted to break down. “Because you love me the way I’ve always wanted to be loved. You’ve been patient with me these few months when
I
was the one in the wrong. You’ve shown me true, unchanging love. How can I not respond to that?”

He closed his eyes, rested his forehead against hers. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s definitely a yes.”

“Thank you.” His eyes opened, those warm eyes that usually sparked with laughter and teasing. “I love you, Meg.”

“I love you, Mike. For the rest of my life, I will.”

His mouth quivered. “I want to love you like I’ve never loved you before. I want you to never, ever be sorry again that you married me.”