Grant raked his fingers through his hair, wondering how he’d break the news. News he still hadn’t digested himself. After a deep, ragged breath, he decided on the blunt approach. “I just found out that Ben is my son.” As the words left his lips, they sounded distant and removed, as though someone else had spoken them.
When Stan didn’t respond, Grant snuck a sideways glance, fearing the worst. Would he be angry? Would he lecture him? Because that was the last thing Grant needed.
Ever since the night after graduation, Grant had lived with remorse. Even though they’d both been complicit, he’d apologized to Eliza for his lack of self-control, reaffirming his desire to wait until their marriage vows. But after that moment, their relationship had changed. And Grant had always wondered if it was the reason Eliza broke up with him. Which made it all the more painful when he’d learned she’d been with someone else. Of course, now he knew that was a lie.
It was all a lie.
But the worst part… the truth that had wrenched Grant’s heart right out of his chest… was that Eliza didn’t want him to be the father of her child. To the point that she’d kept their connection a secret. Grant didn’t think he’d ever get over that.
“Congratulations.”
When Stan finally spoke, Grant flinched, certain he’d imagined it. “What?”
“Congratulations,” Stan repeated, his voice warm and even. “Being a father is a wonderful gift.”
“Ha!” Grant grunted. “Even if it’s a gift that’s given begrudgingly?” He shook his head, the sharp pain now dull and throbbing. “She didn’t tell me, Dad. I’ve missed the first seven years of my son’s life.”
“I’m sure she had her reasons.”
“Yeah,” Grant snarled, bitterness rising in his throat like bile. “She knows I’ll make a lousy father and didn’t want me messing up her son.”
“I’m sure that’s not it.”
“How do you know? No offense, but I don’t come from the most functional family.”
Stan’s gaze flickered to the ground. “No, you don’t. And I bear a lot of responsibility for that.”
Grant shrugged, guilt overpowering his grief. “It wasn’t all bad. We had some good times together. Especially before we moved.”Before you and mom stopped speaking to each other,he mused, deciding to keep that particular observation to himself.
A shadow of sadness passed over Stan’s features, and he looked away.
Something in his father’s expression pricked Grant’s curiosity. “Whydidwe move?”
Stan remained silent, staring off into the distance, so Grant pressed again. “Dad? I think I deserve to know.”
“I never intended to tell you or your sister,” Stan murmured, twisting his watchband around his wrist. “But I always wondered if she suspected.”
“Why would Olivia know anything about it?”
“Because Olivia was the one being bullied in school.”
Grant’s eyes widened in shock. “What?”
While his sister was three years younger, and they’d never had the same circle of friends, Grant wanted to believe he’d know if she’d been bullied.
“Private schools can be wonderful. But they also have a dark side. Intense pressure and an unhealthy need for approval. Your sister… didn’t fit the mold.”
“Why? Because she was a tomboy? So what?” Grant’s chest heaved with anger. “Who bullied her?”
“All the other girls in her class. They were vicious, too. Stuff I couldn’t believe any child would think of.”
“How come I didn’t know?” Grant whispered, his heart shattering.
Stan’s features softened as he placed a hand on Grant’s shoulder. “You went to different schools, had different friends. And you know Olivia, she doesn’t open up easily. Your mother and I suspect it had been going on for a long time before we found out.”
“What did Mom have to say about it?” Knowing his mother’s vindictive streak, Grant had to assume her reaction wasn’t pretty.
“She thought we could work things out with the parents. But I could tell the apples didn’t fall far from the trees. Those kids came from the type of parents who would do anything to get ahead, even if it meant tearing others down. Those children were merely modeling what they were taught at home.”
