Page 56 of Endeavor

“A brother?” I repeat, frowning because nowhere in anything I read did it mention a brother.

He nods. “When my dad died, he left some stuff to me. I didn’t go through it all. Honestly, it was too painful at first and then I got busy. Anyhow, I found this box inside an old trunk about two years ago. It had notes, photos. There was a woman. He had an affair not long after I was born. I suspected from the notebooks and photos that the woman had a baby. I questioned my mom about my dad’s fidelity, but she just said she was ninety-nine percent sure he hadn’t cheated on her. She did admit they went through a rough patch when I was a few years old. They almost separated, but in the end, they worked it out and stayed together.” He pauses and I can tell he’s struggling to tell me this. I can’t blame him; this is heavy stuff to tell an old friend, let alone a new one. He takes a sip of coffee. I’m quiet, letting him pause before continuing. “Last year, I decided to hire a PI to track him down. And the PI found him. I got his information a few weeks ago.”

“Are you going to contact him?” I ask, truly curious.

He shrugs. “That’s why I’m confiding in you. You have this air about you, Emma. This, wise-beyond-your-age persona. I know this is crazy and we just met, but I feel like I can tell you anything. I feel like I can be vulnerable with you, which is a strange fucking feeling, and even stranger that I can admit that to you,” he confesses.

I squeeze his hand again and he turns his over, gripping mine like I’m the strength he needs right now. It’s raw and powerful, and I shiver at the contact.

“You should reach out,” I urge without thought.

“Really?”

I nod. “If you don’t, you’ll always wonder. Does he know about you? Would he want to? But…have you thought about what will happen if the press gets wind of it? Does your mom know?” I question, the thought of Blythe suddenly has me concerned for the woman who’s become like a mother figure to me in the past weeks.

He sighs and closes his eyes. When he opens them, I can already see the pain and I know the answer before he speaks. “No…I haven’t said a word to her.”

“You know you have to, right?”

“I know,” he replies with a grimace. “I just…it’s gonna break her heart. How do I break her heart?” He looks into my eyes and I can imagine him as a child, innocent and wanting to please his parents. The most powerful urge to protect him comes over me as we lock gazes.

“Look at it this way. What if this guy finds out and goes to the press on his own? Then what? At least by doing it this way, you have control. You can prepare for it,” I point out as I run my thumb over his palm.

“I suppose. I mean, that’s a good point, it’s just…” He trails off and stares across the shop at nothing.

“I know. I’m sorry. I wish there was another way, but I can’t think of one.”

“No, you’re right. I guess I just needed to hear it out loud. It’s not as though I haven’t thought of everything you’ve just said. It just sounds different when someone else says it to you.”

“I can be there with you, if that would help,” I offer.

“No, it’s something I need to do on my own.”

I nod. “I understand. And I agree.”

“Thank you, Emma,” he says, his thumb brushing over mine.

“You’re welcome,” I say, smiling shyly back at him. We finish our coffee with much less heavy conversation before he walks me back to my apartment. His kiss goodbye is short, sweet even. It’s his hug that catches me off guard. He envelops me in his arms, squeezing me as though I was his only lifeline, a life raft in the open water.

“Thank you again,” he whispers in my ear.

I squeeze him back. “You’re welcome,” I whisper back before he releases me. His hand caresses my cheek as he steps back.

“I’ll call you later,” he says with a smile.

“Later, alligator,” I reply with a wink. He laughs and waits until I’m safely inside my apartment before he leaves. I touch my lips.

“Dear God, what is he doing to me?” I ask my empty apartment once I’m inside.

Chapter Twenty-One

Grady

I look up at my mother’s apartment building. It looks like an impenetrable fortress. I shake out my muscles and roll my neck, the tension making it stiff. I’ve been putting this conversation off for far too long. I want to turn and walk away and pretend I don’t know something that will change her world, but I can’t. Emma was right. She needs to know, and I need to go talk to my half brother.

Mustering all the courage I have; I walk inside and go up to the penthouse. The doors open and I’m greeted by soft cello music. Mom learned for a role she played about ten years ago and loved it so much she kept up lessons. She’s actually pretty good at it.

I follow the music to the study where I find her, eyes closed as her body sways with the rhythm of the song. She looks so peaceful and the thought of what I have to do eats away at me.

---