“Paisley and I have been divorced for a while now.”
“I know, but so much time had passed and I wasn’t sure...” She wasn’t sure about any of this. “Plus I was living overseas...”
“You could’ve kept all of this a secret. I never would’ve known.”
Telling him about Daniel meant he couldn’t eject her from his life as he’d once done. At least she hoped he wouldn’t. For a man as stuck in his head as Grant, she probably should have approached this whole thing logically. Appealing to his big beautiful brain would’ve given her faster results, but telling a man who’d rejected you in a big way that you gave birth to his son and kept that secret from him was too fraught with emotion for her to be rational.
“It wasn’t fair to keep you apart. You deserve to know...” She paused. “Both of you.”
“Because you want something from me?”
She grappled with the instinct to fling angry words at him. This wasn’t how she’d wanted this encounter to go. Harley fought to subdue her unrealistic expectations. Had she really believed that after so much time had gone by, she could show up, drop this bombshell and then he would simply welcome her and Daniel into his life with open arms?
“I don’t want anything from you.” She only wished that were true.
Because while deep down she’d hoped he would be excited about being a father, rationally she knew he would process the situation with his mind before his emotions. Would he ever get to a point where he was able to embrace his boy and all the awesomeness that Daniel could bring into his life?
“Your son, however, is a whole different story.” Her breath grew shallow as anxiety set in. This was the moment she’d imagined and dreaded. She straightened her spine, preparing to fight for her son’s happiness with everything she had. “He wants to know his father. And I hope that his father wants to know him.”
Grant wasn’t the sort of man who acted or reacted with emotion. He would have to analyze the entire situation before he decided what to do. At this point, her best bet was to simply leave and let him sort through everything.
“It’s late,” she said, easing toward the door. “I should go.”
“Come by my office tomorrow at any time and we can run the paternity test.”
Harley nodded, satisfied that she’d convinced him enough to take this first step. “We’ll do that.”
“If the test proves I’m his father, then of course, I will do right by him. Financially and otherwise.”
No hint of any emotion showed in his impassive expression as he said this and Harley’s frustration sparked at his reserve. She knew he wasn’t made of stone.
During their weekend together, in addition to his passion, he’d shown her tenderness and affection. His smiles had left her breathless. Yet, at the end of their time together, when confronted by something that made him uncomfortable, he’d retreated into dispassionate logic. Just like he was doing now.
“I don’t need your money if that’s what you’re thinking,” she huffed, letting her exasperation show. “I can support us. That’s not what this is about.”
“I realize a shakedown isn’t your style.” He paused for a moment. “Although given what’s been going on with your family...”
“Yes. Well.” She hated how he’d connected the Wingate family’s recent financial difficulties with her claim that he had a son. “This is all about my conscience and doing what’s right. I couldn’t continue to keep him from you and not feel guilty about it.”
Her son needed and deserved to know his father.
Overwhelmed by a sudden rush of emotion that sent pain lancing through her chest, Harley scrambled to leave before she burst into tears in front of him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, retreating toward the foyer, all too aware of the solid thump of his footsteps as he followed her down the long hall to his front door. He moved as if the burden of fatherhood rested heavily on his shoulders. She had her hand on the doorknob when Grant spoke again.
“Is that why you left? Because you were pregnant?”
Resentment flared as he reduced what had been a complicated time in her life down to a brief criticism of her decisions. He had no idea just how much she’d wanted to run into his arms and have him take her away from her mother’s overbearing ways, her heartbreak over her father’s illness and her family’s disappointment. But his rejection had stung more than all her other troubles combined.
“No.”
“You should’ve come to me.”
She left his declaration unanswered and slipped through his front door. Before she reached the porch steps, she turned to glance at him over her shoulder.
“Daniel is your son,” she felt driven to say. “You’ll see.”
And with that, she raced away into the night.