Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
How could he, at a time like this?
But he cups my face in his hand and turns me to face him, and I see genuine warmth and amusement in his eyes. “You’re wrong, Manila. It’s not what you think.”
I pull away from him, tears springing to my eyes again. I can’t watch him laugh at me. Mock me for trusting him. “If I’m wrong, then explain it to me. Tell me why you lied, why you pretended to care about me, about the twins. Why did you lie and pretend you wanted more babies—you already have children with her, don’t you? You have a family with a woman I’ve never even heard of.”
“Yes you have,” he whispers.
My eyes widen. Is he actually admitting it? Unable to help myself, I look back at him.
There’s a quiet, sincere seriousness in his gaze, one I can’t turn away from. “You’ve met her. You know who the mother of my children is.”
“I never met the woman in that photo,” I snap. But he’s already shaking his head, half laughing, yet with a spark in his eye. Something bright that catches the light as he shakes his head no.
“It’s you, Manila.”
I stare at him blankly. I don’t understand.
He grabs my shoulders, his expression turning darker. Wild. “You are the mother of my children. The twins… They’re mine.”
My lips part, slowly. Moving without permission from my brain.
But…
“That’s impossible,” I whisper.
Cassius closes his eyes, grimacing. His hands hold onto my shoulders, tighten to the point where his grip is almost painful. But I welcome it. That little spike of pain is the only thing tethering me to reality right now. The rest of the world is fuzzy with confusion.
“My ex… Claire, the woman in that photo. She was not a good woman. She was an alcoholic, a user, an abuser. I saw that in her, but I was so desperate for a family, I thought we could make it work anyway. I thought she would change, if we had kids together. So we went to the clinic. That’s the file you found. It’s from years ago, when we were first tested. They told me it was unlikely I’d be able to conceive, but we tried some experimental procedures. I gave them samples, and they finally got some viable samples from me, sperm that would work…”
He opens his eyes to meet mine again, real sorrow in them. “Before they finished the tests, I caught her cheating on me. With my best friend.”
“Cassius…” I breathe, reaching to touch his cheek gently. “I’m so sorry…”
“It’s okay.” He wraps his hand around my wrist. “It was meant to happen, don’t you see? I’m glad she did, glad I never gave that one precious sample to her. There was a mistake… The clinic was supposed to save the sample for me, but they told me they lost it.
“I was distraught. They said they probably couldn’t get any more viable samples from me, that I’d likely never conceive. My one chance at children, and they ruined it for me. But then, a couple of months ago, the clinic contacted me. There’d been a mistake. A mix-up. They didn’t lose my sample—they used it.”
My eyes widen slowly. Both of us glance at the twins at the same time. I look at Luca’s handsome face. At his dark hair, just coming in, peach fuzz on his head. At his eyes, which had started out baby blue, but were slowly darkening to a blue-gray color.
A color that looks very similar to his father’s…
“I used it,” I whisper, awed.
“I made them tell me,” he says, and I look back at him, tears stinging my eyes for a completely different reason now. “I know the paperwork was sealed, your donation was supposed to be anonymous. But I threatened to sue them, and the clinic told me, finally, that you’d received the sample. You were the mother. They sent me your information, and when I looked you up and saw that job posting online…” He trails off, shaking his head. “At first I only wanted to meet my children. I wanted to make sure they were all right. I didn’t intend to tell you anything; I assumed you had a husband, a boyfriend, someone in the picture who was meant to be the father. Surely the clinic had just mixed up my sample with theirs. And you are so beautiful, so amazing, you couldn’t be single. But then I met you…”
His hands tighten around my shoulders. I reach up to wrap my arms around his. I am crying now, unable to help myself. Tears of emotion streaking my face. The happiness, the truth of all of this, feels almost too great to bear.
Can this really be true? Can he be the father of my children, the man I never thought I needed? The man I didn’t believe existed?