Chapter 29

Monday morning arrived and I wasn't even sure I had a job. Could a man fire you for not telling him you birthed his baby fourteen years ago? He probably could, but it would be an HR nightmare.

I had heard nothing from Graham about his afternoon with Sloane. My daughter had retreated to her room as soon as she had gotten home yesterday. She refused to talk to me at dinner. I had no idea how their first meeting went. They were gone for hours, which I hoped was a good thing, but with neither of them talking to me, it was really hard to say. I had offered to take her to school this morning, but she insisted on taking the bus.

I needed to talk to her about Graham, to ensure that she was comfortable with the arrangement. But when I tried to broach the subject, Sloane shut the door and cut off any attempts at communication.

I watched helplessly as Sloane walked out the front door without even saying goodbye. The rift between us felt wider than ever. We were always so close. This was killing me.

I prided myself on having a good relationship with my daughter. All of that had been shattered because I hadn't been honest with her. It was my fault, and all I could do was hope things would improve with time.

With a heavy heart, I made my way to work. Maybe Graham would talk to me, and maybe he wouldn't. If he wanted me to quit, I would. There was no point in making each other miserable by spending time together when he hated me. If he and Sloane decided to have a relationship, we were going to have to navigate that together. Having to see each other at work, day in and day out, would put a lot of stress on that relationship. I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I should start looking for another job.

Michael was waiting with the car when I stepped outside. The chilly morning signaled the incoming fall weather. As I climbed into the car, my phone buzzed with a call. I glanced at the screen and saw it was my father.

I declined it without hesitation. The bitterness of our strained relationship still simmered within me. I wasn't ready to hear anything from him, not after how he had treated me. He took me for granted and passed me up for a promotion I had earned. As far as I was concerned, he could go kick rocks.

My nerves were already fried. I couldn't handle whatever it was he wanted to pile on.

When I walked into the lobby of the building, I looked for Graham at the usual table, but no one was there. I had gotten used to seeing him first thing in the morning. He spoiled me by always having my coffee for me.

Like a loser, I ordered my own coffee before making my way up to the office. I didn't know what I was going to say when I saw him. Was he going to talk to me? Fire me? I had no idea what was going to happen and that unsettled me. I wasn't used to that feeling. I liked to know what was going to happen next.

I stopped by Graham's office, hoping for a chance to talk to him, but it was empty. That was definitely not normal.

I was a bit early but not much. He was always downstairs or working on something in his office by this time. I suspected he was hiding from me, which would have been kind of funny if things weren't so serious.

I walked back to my office and sat down. Avoiding me was not the answer. I was not interested in playing games. If he wanted me gone, he was just going to have to come out and say it.

Frustrated and disappointed, I shot him a text, asking if he was coming in. His response was curt, telling me to take messages for him and informing me that he had sent an email with tasks for the week. I forced myself to swallow my disappointment, focusing instead on the jobs he had assigned to me. That's how he's going to play this.

"Child," I muttered.

I buried myself in my work. Until he fired me, I was going to do my job and I was going to do it well. If he wanted to pout at home, so be it.

I put together a summary of some meeting notes, but my mind kept drifting back to the empty office next to mine. The day stretched on without a word from Graham. It was like he had vanished into thin air. Would he take this time to make peace with our past mistakes, or would he stew on my betrayal until he worked himself up into a frenzy?

I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the calm before the storm and something big was looming on the horizon.

I got up and walked to the breakroom to get some caffeine. When I walked out, eying my steaming mug, I nearly ran into Spencer.

"Excuse me," he said quietly.

"No," I replied.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You're not excused," I said. "I'd like to talk to you."

He looked like he wanted to say no, but I wasn't really asking. "Fine. My office."

I followed him and closed the door behind me. "Do you know what's going on?" I asked him.

He nodded. "I do, but I'm not going to discuss it."

"Graham didn't come in today," I said.

He looked at me for several seconds. "You don't need to worry about your job, if that's what this is about."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about Graham."

"Why?" he asked. "He's a big boy."

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "Because he never gave me a chance to explain anything," I confessed, my words tumbling out in a rush. "And I don't want him to hate me. I know I messed up about as bad as a person can. It's just that, after so many years, it's not easy to tell someone they have a daughter. The longer I went without seeing him or talking to him, the easier it was to forget he was a part of her life. He had a right to know."

Spencer listened in silence, his expression inscrutable. "Graham will come around," he finally said.

I nodded, not entirely convinced. "I hope so. I never meant for anyone to get hurt but I was a fool. I hurt two people that I care about very much, and I have no clue what to do about it."

Spencer sat in his chair and studied me intently, like he was trying to gauge my sincerity. "You have to give him time," he said, his voice softer now. "Graham had been a free spirit for so long, this is a huge change. He always looked out for his family and his friends and even his employees, but he's never had to raise a child. Most parents get nine months of prep time, and even they never feel ready when the big day comes. He's had two days."

I sighed and shook my head, mostly at myself. "You're right. I guess he needs time to decide if he wants a family or be a free spirit forever."

Spencer frowned. "Graham is a good man. He has always wanted a family. It's just a lot to spring on a person."

I swallowed hard, feeling the sting of tears behind my eyes. "I know," I whispered. "What if he never forgives me? What if I've lost him forever?"

Spencer's gaze softened. "Graham cares about you," he said gently. "I can't say he'll forgive you. But don't give up. Let him have some time. Go at his pace. He might come around."

I nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the turmoil in my heart. "Thank you, Spencer. I needed to hear that."

"But just for future reference, if Graham chooses to cut ties with you, that's his choice. You can't force anything." He shrugged. "I'm not trying to be mean. Just honest."

"I appreciate it," I said. "And if I'm not getting fired, I better get back to work."

He smiled and said goodbye.

I managed to get through some of my assigned tasks, but without a boss to assist, it went quickly. I left the office early and met up with Holly at a coffee shop. Sloane had swim practice and I wasn't excited to go home to an empty apartment.

"How was it?" she asked. "Did he talk to you?"

"Nope. He didn't even show up."

"The boss didn't show up to his own company?"

"Nope." I sighed heavily, stirring my coffee absentmindedly.

"Damn, you really messed that man up," she said, shaking her head. "Look at you, out here breaking hearts."

I recounted the conversation with Spencer to Holly. She listened, nodding as I talked.

"I just hope he's okay," I said, more to myself than to her.

Holly reached out and squeezed my hand. "He will be. Graham has to figure things out."

"Thanks, Holly. I don't know what I'd do without you. You are the only person in this world that is still talking to me. I made a mess of things. Everyone hates me."

She waved off my words with a smile. "That's what friends are for."

"At least I know I'll see him tomorrow at the swim meet. I'll talk to him and try to make him understand. I know he's angry, but we need to talk about some things, to clear the air between us. I can't work for him if he's not going to show up to work. Or talk to me."

"I agree. What will you do?"

"I guess I'll look for another job. Or maybe I'll hop on a plane and fly away."

"Just relax," she said. "You kept this secret for fourteen years. You can't expect it to work itself out in two days."

I sighed. "I know. I just feel like I'm on an island. Alone."

"You've got me," she said, grinning.

"Thank you. I better get home and make dinner that I'll eat alone."

"Hang in there," she said. "It's a fresh wound."

"I know. Thank you."

As expected, when Sloane got home, she went straight to her bedroom. I called her for dinner, which she chose to take to her room to eat. We spent the night avoiding each other. I told myself I just had to wait it out.

I spent my night cleaning out the pantry. I opened the boxes of containers I had ordered months ago to make it all pretty and organized. Now seemed like a really good time to bust them out. I dumped pasta into the containers and labeled them.

The tedious nature of it was calming. I was able to focus on something other than my life falling apart. It was my chance to take control of the only thing in my life that could be controlled.

As I tidied up, my phone buzzed. I prayed it was Graham.

It wasn't. It was Holly checking on me.

I quickly texted her back and let her know I was in hell but I would survive. Then I finished with the pantry, which I was seriously thinking about locking to keep it from getting messed up. It was so pretty and organized, unlike my life.

I knocked on Sloane's door. She wasn't talking to me, but I still had to be her mother. "Sloane, it's time for bed," I said through the door.

She didn't answer.

"Sloane, please, at least grunt so I know you heard me."

"I heard you," she snapped.

"Good talk. I love you. Goodnight."

There was no response. I sighed and walked away. By the time I crawled into bed, exhaustion weighed on me. I prayed for the strength to get through another day of my daughter hating me and my boss refusing to even come to work. That kind of revulsion was pretty hard to live with, even if I did deserve it.