Sacred Serenity (Lotus House Book 2) (18 page)

Still, not one sound left any of the three people in the room until the baby started to cry. Trent leaned down in front of Amber. “I’ve got him. I think my boy needs his mom. Don’t you, sweetness?” He cooed to the boy.

I will admit, seeing a huge man like Trent Fox cooing at a baby does put life into a different perspective.

Amber stood up and put her hands in her pockets. “Can I talk to you out in the hall?” Her voice was tight and no longer held the effervescence of a few minutes ago when she’d held the newborn.

“Sure. I’ll give you guys some time together and come back tomorrow or catch up with you at the house in a few days,” I told Trent and Genevieve.

“Thanks for stopping by, Dash,” Genevieve said, now focused on undoing her top to nurse. Trent was so focused on the wiggling bundle in his arms, he wasn’t even aware I was leaving. Definitely my cue to bolt.

Amber exited the room in front of me. The second I closed the door, she jumped on me. Not physically, but verbally.

“What do you mean you don’t believe in marriage?” Her words were rushed and frantic.

I tilted my head and assessed her stance. She was wired for sound. Her body was ramrod straight, hands to her hips, and her face a wild mask of determination.

“What’s the big deal? A lot of couples commit to one another in other ways. I don’t need a piece of paper to know you’re mine forever.”

She clenched her jaw. “Well, I do. Dash, I made a vow to myself and to God.”

Finally, we were getting somewhere.

“And what did you vow?”

Her face contorted into one of pain and frustration as her eyes glassed over. “I’m giving myself…
everything
to my husband.”

I leaned against the wall more to hold myself up at the blast her words carried. “Are you telling me that you will not”—I lowered my voice, grabbed her wrists, and slammed her to my chest where I could see every nuance of her emotions cross her face up close and personal—“give up your virginity to me without traditionally becoming my wife?”

It sounded so utterly ridiculous to my ears, the question left me coupled with an ungentlemanly snort of laughter. I mean, the woman had let me touch every inch of her body, put my mouth all over her, but was holding this one thing back? For some ridiculous symbol of unity to a man she may or may not find?

Amber fisted my shirt and glared at me. “I want the man I commit to physically to be the only man to ever have that part of me.”

“Why?” I shook my head.

Her gaze turned white-hot. “Because it means something to me.”

“What you really should be saying is that you’re following some archaic religious belief that is based on a book written by twelve men who may or may not have written the word of the Son of God. None of that has been proven to be fact anyway.”

She closed her eyes and pushed off me so hard I lost my footing and had to catch myself against the rail on the wall.

“It’s called faith, Dash. Apparently, you’ve never heard of it.” Her words were scathing and dipped in poison and meant to harm.

Bull’s-eye.

“I have faith, Amber. I have faith in you. I have faith in me. And I sure as hell have faith in our love. What more do you need?”

Amber licked her lips and turned her head to the side. She was so unearthly beautiful, I wanted to pull her back into my arms, hold her close, and shake some sense into her.

“I need the piece of paper.”

Slow breath in, fast exhale out. “Amber, my mother was married four times. I don’t want that for us. We’re not a statistic. We can have our own private ceremony to symbolize our love. Tattoo rings on our fingers. A tattoo is far more binding than a piece of paper.”

“Not to the Church, and not to me.” Her voice shook with the power of her faith.

I closed my eyes and pressed both fists against my eyes. “Seventy-five percent of the marriages that originate in California end in divorce.”

She uncrossed her arms, stepped over to me, and put her hands on my shoulders. Then she lifted up on her tiptoes and kissed me. Tears spilled from her eyes and wet her lips. I tunneled my hands into her hair, tilted her head, and slid my tongue along the seam of her lips until she opened. I delved into her mouth, the salty tears adding an element of pain and sorrow I didn’t want to taste when I kissed the woman I loved. But the tears didn’t stop. I thought I could kiss them away. Dry them with the power of my love. Goddamn, but I was so wrong.

Eventually, we both needed air. Together we breathed, like all things but this, in sync. “Amber, I love you. I’m fully committed to you, to us.”

She rubbed her forehead against mine and sighed, tears still running like a river down her cheeks. “If that were true, I’d be worth the risk.”

Those words pierced my heart and bled me dry. “Amber…” I whispered, feeling her slip away. Feeling our love dissipate in a white room that smelled of antiseptic and death.

“I have to be worth the risk,” she said before turning and walking solemnly down the hall to disappear through the exit.

T
oday
, I turned on my phone. A week had gone by since I left Dash standing in the hospital. I couldn’t forget the slump of his shoulders, as if his body was bowed in from the knife I’d placed in his heart. All week I’d chastised myself for not telling him about my vow, about the commitment I’d made to myself and to the Lord. Looking back, all the physical steps we’d taken in the past three months had led up to an inevitable ending of our coming together in the last possible way a man and a woman could…as true lovers. Only I wasn’t ready to give up that piece of myself without the promise of forever.

Anyone could say they love someone and mean it. But it was when a person was willing to back it with everything that they were—physically, mentally, emotionally, and last but definitely not least, legally—that was when forever began.

I looked down at the myriad messages that popped up on my phone. None of them were from Dash. My heart squeezed, and all the air in my lungs left me on a choked sob. Nope. I would not cry. I stiffened my spine, cleared my throat, and sucked in a new bout of air.

Phone. Focus on getting back to the real world. A message from Landen popped up, sent only an hour ago.

Smiley face. Oh good Lord, let whatever he has to tell me be worth smiling about, although I knew in my heart it wouldn’t. My best guess was that he’d received the paternity results. My mind briefly went back to Dash giving him his card. Did he contact him first? Wouldn’t Dash have told me Dr. O’Brien had called? Then again, he seemed like the type of man to go to the best resource, and that would be his own son. Did Landen know? Did he tell him? Did he tell his wife?

So many questions with absolutely no answers. As much as I wanted to call Dash and ask him to go with me to see the professor, I didn’t feel as though I had any right to. We’d left things on a sour note. I didn’t know if that technically was us breaking up or taking a break or just spending time thinking about what the other had revealed? God, things were so screwed up. Up was no longer up. Down was no longer down. I felt stuck in some type of quasi-center that had no high or low, pros or cons.

Limbo.

A shiver raced down my spine. Limbo in the Catholic faith was often referred to as purgatory, a state of suffering where the souls of sinners went when they were attempting to atone and cleanse their souls of sin before entering heaven.

Was that where my relationship with Dash was? In a place of suffering? It sure as heck felt like it. And did that mean that one or both of us had something to atone for?

I closed my eyes and pressed my fingertips to my temples. There was only one person I could talk to about this. Father McDowell. If anything, he’d help me see the light of God’s will and what I had to do for me. First, I had to go meet with a man about a paternity test. Not that my life needed any more shaking up.

* * *

T
he lecture building
was mostly empty. It seemed as though it was like this more often than not. Strange. I guess most of the students spent their time in the libraries or doing rounds in the hospital. I made the appropriate turns following the path I’d taken a couple weeks ago when the professor had admitted his affair with my mother.

When I got to his office, the door was open. Dr. O’Brien’s head was down, his glasses dangling from two fingers, and his head rested in his hands.

I knocked on the frosted glass of his office door. “You wanted to see me?”

He looked up and smiled softly. He gestured to the surprisingly empty chair in front of him. The office still had clutter over every available surface, no cleaner or more organized than it was two weeks ago when Dash and I sat here, and he had dropped a bomb on me I hadn’t expected.

“Close the door behind you, please.”

I did as he asked and took the chair opposite him.

“How are you?” he asked.

Fine was on the tip of my tongue, but lying had never been something I undertook regularly, regardless of societal niceties.

“It’s been a long week.” I chose my words wisely.

He nodded, picked up a yellow business envelope, and handed it to me.

I pinched the envelope between thumb and forefinger as though the sucker might burn me. “What is it?”

“The results of your paternity test.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “And?”

“Wouldn’t you rather read the results for yourself?”

I shook my head. “No. Frankly, I’d rather hear the words come directly from your lips.”

He swallowed, and a hint of a smile flickered across his lips. “It’s confirmed. You are my daughter.”

I closed my eyes and let the information sweep across my heart. After twenty-two years, I could now look my biological father in the eyes and put a face to the ghost my mother had left me with.

“And you’re sure?” I asked.

He grinned. “Well, ninety-nine point nine percent positive are some pretty stellar odds.”

“Why didn’t you know my mother was pregnant with your child?” I asked bluntly, getting right to the heart of why I was sitting here after twenty-two years, meeting my father for the first time.

Liam, my
father
, not just the professor or Dr. O’Brien to me anymore, leaned back in his chair and rubbed both hands down his face.

“For the past two weeks I’ve asked myself the same question. How could I not know you existed and the simple answer, my dear, the
only
answer…your mother didn’t want me to.”

I scoffed. “But she went to the same school, took your class!”

He shook his head emphatically. “No. I broke things off two weeks before the end of the semester. She didn’t return in the fall. I distinctly recall asking her academic counselor about her status.”

I focused my gaze on his tightly fisted hands on top of the desk. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I loved her, dammit!” He pounded on the desk. “Even after I’d made the decision to try to make it work with my wife and son, I still couldn’t get over Kate. I missed her like an amputee misses a lost limb. The ghost of our relationship haunted me for years. Hell, it still does!” he admitted, tears in his eyes.

Seeing a grown man break down was not at all what I expected. In this situation, the regret washed over the both of us, made worse by the fact we had no one to blame. The one person who could have solved all of this had been dead for twenty-two years and wasn’t coming back.

“What do we do now?” My voice was shaking, and a tear slipped down my cheek.

He closed his eyes, took a breath, and focused his gaze on mine. Green to green. I had his eyes. Plain as day now that the veil of truth had been lifted.

“We get to know each other. I can’t even imagine not knowing you all these years. My own daughter.” His voice cracked. “And you’re beautiful. Just like her. Like my Kate.” His eyes became glassy, filled with unshed tears. “And smart. So smart. I’ll bet you were a joy growing up.”

I swallowed the giant lump of anxiety and fear clogging my throat. “You’d have to ask my grandparents.”

“I’d like to. And to thank them for raising such a lovely young woman.”

A bubble of laughter worked its way up and out. “Oh my, I’m not sure you want to interact with them. They are very protective. Nana will want to hear all the sordid details of your love affair with her daughter, mostly because she’s a ridiculous romantic, and Papa will want to tan your hide for hurting his daughter and knocking her up unwed.”

He smiled. “If that’s the only penance I have to take, I’d be happy to. I mean it, Amber. I want to know you and have you know me, become part of my family.”

Family.

My family had always consisted of the grandparents, Genevieve, Rowan, and Mary. Now it included Trent and William, and God willing, Dash.

“That sounds wonderful, but what about Landen and your wife?”

“Susan? She knew about Kate.”

I’m pretty sure my mouth dropped open so far it hit the desk, kind of like in a cartoon.

“I’m not all bad. When Susan and I agreed to give our marriage a shot, we admitted our infidelities. She had been seeing a guy at her firm. I was seeing Kate. Together, with years of marriage counseling, we worked through all of our issues.” He sighed. “I never stopped loving your mother, but at the time, I thought what I was doing was right for all involved. Had I known about you…” He gasped. “My God, how different things would be.”

“Not really. Mom died in childbirth, so technically, your relationship ending wouldn’t have changed a single thing. Perhaps that’s the way God intended for it to happen.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

I sucked in a big breath, let it out, and steadied my shoulders. “Back to my earlier question. Where do we go from here?”

“How about dinner with your family?” he suggested.

“Well, I don’t know about my grandparents, and Genevieve just had the baby so she’s busy with that…”

Liam reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “No, Amber. Your new family.” He squeezed my hand. His was warm and soothing, much like you’d expect from a fatherly type.

“Oh, yeah. Okay. That makes sense.”

“I want to hear all about this Genevieve and her baby and your grandparents. How about I call you to set something up this weekend? You can bring your fellow, Dash, I believe.”

The mention of Dash prickled against the nape of my neck.

“Yeah, okay.”

He stood, came around the desk, and opened his arms.

I walked into them, receiving a hug from one of my parents for the first time ever. A simmering warmth fluttered against the edges of my cheeks and shoulders as he held me tight. I wrapped my arms around him and soaked myself in it.

“I’ll call you,” he said and then kissed my temple the way I’d always imagined a father would.

“I’ll answer.”

A whole week. Seven days. A hundred sixty-eight hours. Ten thousand eight minutes. Six hundred four thousand, eight hundred seconds since I let Amber walk away from me. I hadn’t talked to, texted, or seen my little bird since she flew the coop. To put it mildly. I was a fucking mess. A complete mess of contradictions.

I’d spent nothing but time going over the pros and cons of granting the simple condition she needed. Why couldn’t I let it go? Just because ninety percent of the people I knew were divorced or came from divorced families didn’t mean that would happen to us if we made that vow.

A vow.

The love of my life had made a vow to herself, to God, and to the man she’d spend her life with, even though she didn’t know that man was supposed to be me. She spent twenty-two years saving a piece of herself that she only ever intended to give to me. The man she wanted to spend her life with. So why the hell couldn’t I get over this one prickly point?

Because everyone I’ve ever known had made a mockery of marriage. My mother. My father. Hell, even their parents had all been married and divorced, and that was unheard of back in the day. The Alexander clan and the sanctity of a legal union did not equate to a happily ever after. More like a happily never after.

I groaned and pulled at my hair while standing in an empty yoga room. All the clients had already left. It was just me, my psyche, and the battering ram that was my heart.

“Knock, knock.”

Crystal and Jewel stood at the entrance to the room. “Hey, thought you might care to grab a cup of coffee and a pastry with us,” Crystal suggested.