His words make me smile. It would be so easy to forget the last twenty-four hours. So easy to pretend it’s just the two of us and the outside world doesn’t matter. That’s what I should do, enjoy the complete bliss I feel wrapped in his arms while he strokes my belly. But, me being me, that’s not what I’m going to do. We have to face what sent him running in the first place. He needs to figure out what he’s going to do with the information I gave him.
“I love you, Angel, and I’ll stand by you no matter what. You know that, don’t you?” I proclaim. His euphoric smile quickly fades. He knows where this is going and it doesn’t please him. Looking me in the eyes, he nods his head and takes a deep breath, preparing himself for what’s to come.
“We can’t sweep it under the rug and go on like nothing happened. We need to discuss what you want to do,” I explain. His eyes begin to tear up. I know this is difficult for him and I wish I could wipe out every ounce of pain it brings him, but I can’t. The only thing I can do is be here for him.
“I wish I knew what I wanted. I’m still so confused. I have too many questions without answers and no way of getting them,” he confesses. “I don’t want Katie...Kayleigh to get hurt from this.” And there he is. The man I fell in love with—the one with a heart bigger than he realizes. The one who would do anything to protect the people he loves. I saw it first hand, the way he looked out for Amber and Holly.
“She already knows she’s adopted. That part won’t be a surprise to her. If it were me, I’d be thrilled to find out I had a sibling out there.”
“You’re probably right. How do I tell her, though?” Angel questions, sounding a little stressed.
“We invite her and Rylan over for dinner,” I suggest.
“Why Rylan? Shouldn’t it just be Kayleigh?” he questions, clearly uneasy with the idea of too many people being involved.
“I think it would be better for her to have him here for moral support, especially if she does get a little freaked.” He smiles and pulls me closer.
“This is why I love you, sweet pea. You think of everything,” he says, and kisses me gently on the forehead.
“What do you say we go christen some of these rooms like you promised?” I say as seductively as I can—at least, I hope that’s how it sounded.
“With pleasure.” Angel lifts us both from the couch. Taking two steps at a time, he carries me up the stairs.
Angel
T
onight is the big dinner with Kayleigh and Rylan. This last week has been hell. Patience is not one of my strengths and the nerves feel like they’re eating me from the inside out. Chelsie has been amazing through it all. She arranged the whole thing—from inviting them all the way down to what I should wear. Normally, I can dress myself, but this time, I wasn’t sure what the appropriate attire
would be for saying,
Hey, I’m the brother you don’t remember having
.
“Calm down. Everything will be fine,” Chelsie says, coming up behind me. I’ve been standing in front of this mirror for over thirty minutes making sure I look okay. I’m a nervous wreck. There’s only two ways this can go: really good or really bad. I’m praying for the really good.
The doorbell rings and fear grips me. My palms begin sweating and my heart thuds against my chest. Chelsie, being her usual calm, cool self, smiles sweetly at me. Placing her hands on my cheek, she pulls my lips to hers. “I’ll get the door. When you’re ready, come downstairs.” She kisses me once more, then leaves the room. Pacing back and forth, I desperately try to calm my nerves. I hope I’m ready for this.
As I descend the stairs, I can hear them all chit-chatting. I wipe my wet palms on my jeans and take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. Plastering a smile on my face, I walk into the kitchen and make my polite greetings.
Rylan and I start talking music, which instantly relaxes me. Rylan is talented as hell. His band is going places. They remind me of us back in L.A. The only difference is they want the fame, the travel, and everything else that comes with being a rock star. We’ve all been calling some old contacts, trying to get some interest in them. It’s only gonna take one record label to hear them and they’re on their way.
I glance over at the girls as they chat away about the center. Chelsie is chopping veggies and Kayleigh stirs something on the stove. Chelsie looks up, catches me watching them, and gives me a reassuring smile. I wish I knew how the hell to bring all this up to Kayleigh. Should I say something now, during dinner, or wait till dinner’s over? As usual, Chelsie seems to read my mind and steps in before I have a panic attack.
“Have you ever looked into your biological parents?” she asks Kayleigh. Holding my breath, I wait for her answer.
“No. I mean, what would the point be? They’re both dead and I had no family other than the uncle who didn’t want me.”
“What if you had a brother or sister out there? Would you want to know about it?” Chelsie asks cautiously. Again, I’m holding my breath, praying she says yes. I really do not want to turn this poor girl’s life upside down. Even though I want her to know who I am, I would gladly keep it to myself if it would be easier for her.
“I never really thought about it much. I did always beg my parents for a brother when I was younger. I envied all my friends who had siblings and felt I was missing out on something,” Kayleigh replies, and I finally let out the breath I was holding. I give Chelsie a pleading look, hoping she’ll continue. I don’t think I can find the right words. She pulls a barstool over to Kayleigh and motions for her to sit.
“I need to tell you something. There’s no easy way, so I’m just gonna come right out with it.” Kayleigh looks around the room, confused. “When Angel was twelve, he had a three-year-old sister who was abducted. I was checking into it and your name came up. The man who said he was your uncle is Angel’s dad. We’re pretty sure you are Angel’s sister,” Chelsie confesses. Kayleigh’s mouth drops open and her eyes go wide. Rylan moves closer to her and places his hand on her shoulder, giving her support. Apart from the shocked expression on her face, Kayleigh hasn’t shown any other emotion. Her eyes move over my face, and I wish I knew what she was thinking.
“Wow. I don’t know what to say,” Kayleigh says in almost a whisper, her face pale, her hands shaking. Pulling another stool around, I sit next to Kayleigh, needing her to hear the whole story.
I begin with the day she was born and how I fell in love with her and promised to take care of her. “You were so tiny. From the start, you’d grab onto my finger and wouldn’t let go,” I continue, and fill her in on the day dad left us and the hell that followed. The stunned expression from earlier is still on her face. She reaches for a chain around her neck, unhooks it, and hands it to me. I take the chain in my fingers and twirl the ring hanging down back and forth. Now, I’m the one who’s stunned. She does still have it. Just like Chelsie said.
“Do you know where this came from?” she inquires, her voice shaky.
“From me, for your birthday. I mowed lawns and weeded gardens to save up the money,” I tell her. I can’t help but smile at the memory of how much she loved that ring when she was little. And it still means enough for her to wear it around her neck.
I resume the story and she listens intently, especially when I get to the day of her abduction. You’d think it would be easier with how much I’ve been telling this story lately.
“Why would our father take me like that? Why would he want to hurt you and our mom that way?” Good questions, but I don’t have an answer for either. I keep asking myself the same things.
“I wish I knew.” It’s all I can say. I wish I had all the answers we both need. I hand her back her necklace and tell her a few more stories from when she was younger while Chelsie gets dinner set on the table. We all sit and enjoy a great meal, avoiding the heavy subjects. Kayleigh seems to be taking it all well, but looks can be deceiving. I’d like to know what’s going on in her head.
After dinner, we all sit in the living room drinking coffee and eating apple pie. Kayleigh’s eyes keep shifting over to me, as if she wants to ask me something. I give her a soft smile, hoping it will make her feel more comfortable. Placing her fork on her plate, she takes a deep breath.
“Do you have any pictures of me? Of us all?” Kayleigh asks hesitantly. Eagerly, I jump up from my seat and go to the closet where a photo album holding the few pictures I have of my past rests on the top shelf. I’m so thrilled that she asked to see them. Maybe this means I can have my sister back. I know a long time has passed and she’ll have to get to know me all over again, but all the things I wished for seem possible. Every time I look in her eyes, I see my sweet little Katie.
“There are a bunch of pictures of you in here,” I say as I hand her the album. Slowly, she opens the book. A wide smile crosses her lips when she sees the first picture. I remember that picture. It was the first time I held her after she was born. My mom was laughing at me because I was so scared I’d break her. She continues to flip through the album, smiling every so often. When she gets to the last page, her face turns completely white.
“Who’s this?” she asks, her voice shaky. I look over to see who she’s pointing to and my stomach turns.
“That’s Angelo. Our dad,” I tell her. Just saying his name sends bile rising in my throat. The hate I felt for him when he left was bad, but taking Katie away causes a feeling in me so much deeper than hate, there’s no word for it.
“It can’t be,” she whispers, dropping the photo album like it’s on fire. She stands, looking around the room nervously, seeking out the exit.
Seeing her so freaked out has me easing from my chair, wanting to comfort her. “Hey, Kayleigh, what is it?” I ask, concerned. “Do you remember him?” I want to move closer to her, to hug her and tell her it’s okay, but I know that’s not what she needs right now. In fact, I have no idea what she needs. I glance over at Rylan, who’s standing by her side, wearing a perplexed look on his face. Poor guy has no idea how to handle any of this “family drama”, but he’s staying right by my sister’s side, letting her know he’s there. I’m so glad she has someone she can turn to.
“He’s my dad,” she mutters. I can’t tell if it’s a question or a statement.
“Yes. He’s our dad,” I reiterate, but she begins to shake her head.
“No. You don’t understand. He
is
my dad. The man who raised me,” she states, knocking the air from my lungs. Chelsie eyes me cautiously, waiting for me to lose my shit. If Angelo was in front of me at this moment, she’d have something to worry about, but Kayleigh is innocent in all of this. She doesn’t deserve anything but understanding from me. She had absolutely no control or even knowledge of what happened all those years ago. It doesn’t do anything to lessen what a massive blow this is to find out.
All these years, I thought he left because he didn’t want to be a father. A part of me always wanted to believe he loved us but just couldn’t hack having a family to take care of. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. He left Katie and I alone with that unstable women then came back years later, snatched Katie up, and left me carrying the guilt of thinking it was my fault. All these years, he’s been the perfect father to her, stayed with the woman she calls mom, and not once has he ever reached out to me.
In the back of my mind, I wondered if I had done something to drive him away. He had seemed cold and distant toward me before he left, and I’d heard my name a few times when they fought. I need fresh air, need to think…need a drink. My chest constricts painfully, making it hard to breathe. My eyes flick back and forth on the carpet, not focusing on anything in particular, and rub my chest, trying to ease the pain. The same questions run through my mind, over and over again. The whys—why did he leave me? The hows—how could he allow me to carry this crippling guilt my entire life? Nothing makes sense. I just don’t understand.
Chelsie taps my shoulder and my head jerks up at her. I didn’t even realize she was near me. Everyone in the room disappeared. She hands me a glass of whiskey and I couldn’t love her more at the moment. I glance at her quickly, hoping to convey my thanks in that look. If I speak, I’m afraid of what might come out. She smiles back it me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I try to do the same, but I know I fail miserably. Her bringing the whiskey to me is a compromise. Her way of saying,
I know you need this right now, but do it here with me
. She knows I want to run as fast and as far as I can, but it’s not to get away from her, it’s just to get myself together.