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Shock reverberated through him with the force of an earthquake.
“You have a son?” Ross was certain that it was his eyes, his very soul that were filled with horror, shock, fear. An odd, extremely painful tug ripped at his heart. Brielle had a son. “Why didn’t Vann tell me you had a kid? Why didn’t you tell me?” He knew his words were accusing, but he didn’t care. Brielle had a child. How could she have done that to him? The thought of her having a child felt like the ultimate betrayal. Had he really expected her to have just been waiting for him the past five years? Perhaps, arrogantly, he had. He raked his fingers through his hair then grimaced, took a deep breath. “You really have a child?”
Still gripping the doorjamb for dear life, she nodded.
“A son.” He took an even deeper breath, needing oxygen in his aching lungs, needing clarity for his racing mind. “Is his father still in the picture? Is he the man you claim to love?”
“His fath— No,” Brielle shook her head, not meeting his eyes. “I did love him, but he isn’t in the picture. He hasn’t been for some time.”
Ross’s brows came together in a deep V, digging almost painfully into his forehead. “Not at all? Not you or your son’s?”
“He hasn’t been a part of my life for a long time. Or Justice’s.”
Justice. Her son. That odd tug yanked at his chest again. He just couldn’t believe Brielle had a child. He tried to picture her pregnant, to imagine her belly swollen with child, and he just couldn’t. Curvier through her hips and breasts, her body was even better than it had been five years ago.
“Justice...” Ross said the name slowly, letting the boy’s name roll off his tongue. Brielle was a mother. His Brielle. None of his fantasies of her had featured discovering that she was a mother. He didn’t like the ragged emotion jagging through his mind and body. Jealousy that some man had shared that with Brielle. Red-hot, raging jealousy. She’d given birth to another man’s child. Only the idiot hadn’t stuck around. Disappointment that she had that strong a connection to another man, to a child who depended on her for all his needs, hit Ross in the solar plexus.
Selfishly he wanted her to himself, wanted time to explore remaining feelings between them. Instead, she really had moved on, had another life that was far beyond anything he’d imagined.
“I’m not sure what to say. I wasn’t prepared for this.”
“I...” She grimaced, closed her eyes then met his gaze with steely determination shining in her gaze. “Let’s go inside.”
Ramming his trembling fingers into his pants pockets, he followed her into the house, processing the idea of Brielle as a mother, taking in everything around him.
Unlike the apartment they’d shared, Brielle’s house oozed warmth and hominess. Their apartment had been efficient and minimalist. Pictures lined these walls. Pictures of a little boy who looked remarkably like his mother with his pale hair and big eyes. They were blue rather than brown, but those eyes were so similar to Brielle’s that he stopped to stare at a photo of the boy sitting in his mother’s lap. Rather than facing the camera directly, they’d been looking at each other, Brielle smiling, the boy laughing up at her.
“How old is he in this one?”
Brielle paused, took a deep breath then gazed at the photo he was referring to. “He’s two there.”
Two. He realized he didn’t even know how old Brielle’s son was. “And now?”
&
nbsp; She stared at the photo long moments, inhaled sharply. “Is there a particular reason you’re here, Ross? I’ve had a long day.”
“I wanted...” His gaze went back to the photo, stared at the boy, at the pure love and joy shining in Brielle’s eyes and expression as she gazed at her son. “You’re a good mother, aren’t you?”
Her mouth opened then closed. Her face unreadable, she continued to look at the photo then shrugged. “I love my son. He’s my whole world. I try to do what’s right for him, but I’m human and make a lot of mistakes along the way.”
“He’s lucky to have you for a mother.”
“I hope you feel that way after...” Her voice trailed off. She closed her eyes, shifted her feet, filled her chest with air then blew it out slowly.
“After...?” he prompted, instinctively knowing that whatever she’d been going to say, it had been monumental.
“Let’s go and sit down.”
Odd. She’d never been one to avoid conflict in the past. If anything, she’d wanted to discuss everything right then and there. Then again, there really hadn’t been a lot for them to discuss. They’d rarely fought until those last few weeks.
“What changed at the end of our relationship?”
Her brow lifted. “What do you mean?”
“You were different. Why?”
“You’re right. I did change.” She sighed. “That’s one of the things we need to talk about.”
