“Well, at least he admitted it,” Nia says.

“But it doesn’t make me feel any better at all, baby girl.” She turns in my arms and ends up straddling me. She runs her hands through my hair and down my face. Her eyes lock with mine, and I know she’s doing her best to read my mind.

“Maybe not yet. It’s still new and raw. You did the right thing by finally tackling this. Tomorrow you won’t wake up with this dragging you down.” She smiles, and there’s so much hope in it. I want her to be right about this too because the last thing I want is to still have this albatross around my neck. “I want you to always remember what I told you. This changes nothing. Your wife still loves you. Your kids adore you, and you’re still the best father out there. Second to my dad, of course,” she says with a playful smile.

“I’m honored to come that close to him in the father department.” She rests her forehead on mine and giggles, but I mean it. Her father and I might have gotten off on the wrong foot, but he was there for his daughter and my son when I couldn’t be. I’ll always be grateful to him for that. “Thank you. Those words mean a lot, and you’re right. This changes nothing about our life together. He’s the one who missed out on getting to know his first grandchild. He’ll never know how amazing Carter is. It’s almost sad how he had to watch from a distance.”

I wonder what he was thinking when he looked at the pictures his henchmen took. Did he feel immediate regret? Did he want to get to know Carter? How could he have looked at these pictures and not wanted to get to know my incredible son? Ever since my mom found out about him, she’s done everything she can to get her hands on him. When she learned Nia’s parents got Carter one weekend a month, I saw the wheels turning inher head. She did not stop until she started spending her time with him too. She’s loved him since I told her about him, and I don’t know how my father could have walked away, but he laid it out for me. It was because of the color of his skin, and that’s the part I’ll never make peace with.

“Speak your mind, Paradise,” Nia says, throwing my words back in my face.

“I will never make peace with the reason he did it. Never. If he were alive, I would cut him out of my life and never speak to him again. I would have chosen you. Always.”

“I know you would have.” I close my eyes and bask in the trust that she’s given me. There was a time when she wouldn’t have believed me. A time when she would have called me a liar, but those days are in the past. Now we have uncompromising trust. “But think about the alternative. Do you think we would have gotten back together if he was alive? Yeah, you would have been angry. I believe you would have cut him out of your life and would have done everything in your power to get me back, but what about the rest.”

“What rest? Scarlett? She wouldn’t—”

“Not her,” she says with a snort. “I’m talking about your family, particularly your mother. Her anger wouldn’t last as long as yours. She would want you to forgive your father. And I bet your father would have offered you the world on a platter to earn your forgiveness. Eventually, I would be the bad guy still holding a grudge and preventing family unity. The narrative would have changed, and maybe in time, you would be angry at me too.”

I mull over her words. I’ve never thought about my father being alive beyond having the opportunity to confront him and walk away. I’d have walked away from him and ParadiseConstruction, but I never considered how my family, especially my mother would have reacted.

They would have been angry. Mom would have been livid with him, but Nia’s words ring true. What my mother would have wanted the most would be family unity. There’s not a chance in hell she wouldn’t have heard my father out and forgiven him. She would have wanted us to be a big happy family, and she’d have been certain that therapy would've helped us get there. She would have played mediator. She’d have cried and begged. She would have told me how sorry he was and that he deserved a second chance.

Chapter 13

Nia

I can see the wheels turning in his head. He’s only ever focused on his immediate anger, but not the long-term consequences with his family.

“I know that I would have always chosen you,” he grits out. “I know there’s no way I would not have chosen you and our son. Everything and everyone else be damned.”

I open my mouth to argue with him, but he puts a hand to my lips. “Do you know how much I love you, Nia Paradise? I love you so much that I’d rather die than hurt you.”

“Please don’t talk about dying,” I say with his finger still to my lips.

“I mean it,” he says. “I would not have allowed anyone to pressure me or us into doing anything. Hell, I’d have moved us clear across the country or to another continent if I had to, but there’s no way I would have let you go or let my family comebetween us.” He puts his forehead to mine. “But you’re right. They would have tried. He would have tried, and he would have made my mother the go-between.” He pauses before he speaks again. “I’m glad he’s gone. I’m glad that’s not a scenario we have to face.”

“Drake,” I say. I’m shocked by his confession, but I’m not sure if I believe it. “You don’t mean that.”

“I still miss him, Nia. I still think about him. I think of the good times and everything he taught me. Everything I thought he stood for, but that was all a mirage. An alternate reality. He’s gone, and I don’t have to deal with any additional drama where he’s concerned. I’m not going to pretend not to be relieved by that.” I wrap my arms around him and don’t respond to the heavy words he just spoke. Instead, I press my body to him, and he holds me. We stay like that for several minutes.

I expect him to put the letter and pictures back in the safe, but he doesn’t. He picks them up again and looks through them with a sad, wistful smile on his face. “This one is my favorite,” he says, lifting the one of me kissing a wiggling Carter. “And this one.” He holds up a picture of me looking down at my sleeping infant. I remember that day. I was exhausted, but when I looked at him, I felt so much love and pride in making such an incredible creature. “I love these,” he says while looking at another.

“Let these be for our eyes only,” I say.

“I’m so angry he invaded your life this way, but I’m happy to have these snapshots.”

“Don’t get me started on that,” I mutter. I want to say so much more. I want to call Donald Paradise a spineless excuse of a father who could have told the truth so much sooner but chose cowardice instead. I want to scream about how he made this about himself and what he missed when the truth is hedidn’t deserve to know my son. If he were alive, he would not be allowed to be near me or my children.

I don’t say any of that. Drake already knows how I feel, and he doesn’t need to hear it. I don’t want to make today more about Donald Paradise than it already is. Today is about my husband and his feelings, not about the selfish narcissist who was his father.

“Let’s go and climb into bed,” I suggest. He stands with me in his arms and carries me upstairs to our bedroom. He puts me down and slides in the bed next to me. I expect him to undress me and himself so we can make love, but he doesn’t. He pulls me close, and I rest my head on his chest.

The strong beating of his heart lulls me, and soon, my eyes become heavy. I let out a yawn and close them.

“Drake,” I mumble after my eyes pop open.

The room is completely dark now. When we first came up here, the blinds were open, but not any longer. My husband is also gone, and judging from how cold his side of the bed is, he’s been gone for a while. I sit up in bed and stretch. I want to lie back down. The first trimester is always the hardest on me, especially when fatigue takes over my body, but this weekend isn’t about me or my pregnancy. My stomach growls, and after checking my watch, I notice it’s early afternoon.