Chương 5
Mara sipped her coffee.
“You still hate geese?” Ethan asked.
Her head turned.
He regretted it immediately.
It was an old detail. Years compressed into a stupid question.
“I don’t hate them.”
“You absolutely hated them.”
“I was attacked by one when I was nine.”
“That is a reason.”
“It stole half a bagel.”
“You made it sound like combat.”
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Then the moment closed.
Ethan looked toward the river.
“I’m sorry.”
Mara rubbed the cup seam with one thumb.
“For which part?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Then don’t.”
He nodded.
That was fair.
“I want a DNA test.”
“I figured.”
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you.”
“You should verify.”
He glanced at her.
She looked tired.
Not dramatic tiredness. Not movie exhaustion. She had a small coffee stain on one cuff and the expression of someone who had probably been awake at three in the morning answering questions from an eight-year-old she did not want to answer.
“How is he?”
“Confused.”
“About me?”
“About everyone.”
Ethan looked down.
“Does he know what happened?”
“He knows Lorraine is your mother.”
“What does he think about that?”
“He asked whether that makes her more his grandma or less.”
Ethan swallowed.
“What did you say?”
“That biology doesn’t excuse lying.”
“That’s a very Mara answer.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Act like you still know me.”
The words were quiet.
He nodded again.
“Okay.”
A cyclist passed behind them.
The geese had succeeded in getting the bread.
Mara watched one tear a slice in half.
“I found out who Lorraine was three days ago,” she said.
“How?”
“Noah brought your photograph home from her house. He asked why the man in the picture looked like the old picture I keep in my desk.”
Ethan turned toward her.
“You have a picture of me.”
“One.”
“Why?”
“I forgot to throw it away.”
“That’s not like you.”
“People change.”
He let that sit.
She continued.
“I confronted Lorraine. She told me everything.”
“Everything?”
“As much as someone tells you when they’ve spent eight years editing the truth.”
“That sounds about right.”
“She said she had kept your letters.”
“My letters?”
Mara looked at him.
Ethan’s stomach tightened.
“I never wrote you.”
“I know.”
He understood.
“She lied about that too.”
“Yes.”
“What did she tell you?”
“That you had written twice asking me not to contact you.”
Ethan looked away.
“I’m sorry.”
“That one isn’t yours.”
“Some of it is.”
“No.”
“Mara, I disappeared after my dad died. I let my life become a place where my mother could answer my phone, access my email, handle my bills. I wasn’t responsible for what she did, but I made myself easy to manage.”
She studied him.
“That sounds rehearsed.”
“I didn’t sleep.”
“That explains it.”
He almost laughed.
She did not.
“I should have searched harder,” Mara said.
Ethan turned.
She kept her eyes on the river.
“There. That’s my ugly part.”
“You believed my mother.”
“I believed enough of her.”
“She lied.”
“Yes.”
“You were pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“You were scared.”
“Yes.”
“And you still think this is partly your fault.”
“I don’t like that word.”
“What word?”
“Fault.”
“What do you call it?”
“A choice.”
She took a breath.
“I chose to stop looking.”
“Why?”
“Because every attempt cost me something.”
Her voice remained steady.
“I called. She answered. I emailed. I got blocked. I went to the address I had for you and found out you had moved. I sent letters through Lorraine. She told me you wanted nothing to do with the baby. Then I had Noah, and suddenly searching for a man who might reject him felt less important than keeping him fed.”
Ethan stared at the path.
“I could have been found.”
“Probably.”
“I had a website.”
“Your company had a website with an office address you weren’t using anymore.”
“Later.”
“Yes.”
“You could have—”
He stopped.
Mara looked at him.
“Go ahead.”
He hated the invitation.
“You could have tried again later.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She stared into her coffee.
“Because by later, I was angry.”
There it was.
Not fear. Not nobility.
Anger.
“I had built a life,” she said. “A hard one, but it worked. Noah slept through the night. I got promoted. I paid off the hospital bill. I stopped checking every man with dark hair at grocery stores like an idiot. Then when he was two, I searched your name again.”
Ethan’s chest tightened.
“You found me.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“You looked fine.”
He blinked.
“What does that mean?”
“There were pictures from an architecture award. You were holding a drink. There was a woman beside you.”
“My business partner’s wife.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You could have asked.”
“I could have.”
Her jaw moved slightly.
“But I looked at you smiling in a room full of people, and I thought, He got exactly what he wanted.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I know that now.”
“But you didn’t then.”
“No.”
“So you punished me.”
Mara’s eyes met his.
“Yes.”
The honesty knocked the next sentence out of him.
She looked away first.
“I told myself I was protecting Noah. Some of that was true. Some of it was pride.”
Ethan rubbed his hands together against the cold.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Not making yourself innocent.”
“I’m not interested in being innocent.”
“Neither am I.”
“Good.”
They sat quietly.
A child somewhere near the playground screamed in delight.
Both of them looked automatically.
Ethan noticed Mara noticing him.
He felt embarrassed.
“When can we do the test?”
“I already ordered a legal kit through a clinic.”
He looked at her.
“You move fast.”
“I’ve had three days.”
“Right.”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
“I’ll be there.”
She nodded.
Ethan hesitated.
“Can I see Noah?”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
He forced himself not to react.
“Okay.”
Mara looked at him.
“That easy?”
“No.”
“Then why say okay?”
“Because you said no.”
May you like
Something in her expression softened, though not much.
“He asked about you last night.”
