Page 102 of Forbidden Romeo

Megan nods. “I began with testing Holden, right after our ice cream date all together. It came back that he’s Jamie’s brother, not his father.”

Holden crosses to the antique couch and sinks down to sit. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“After that little speech you gave me before? You weren’t going to walk away that easily. If there was any chance your dad would be absent, I knew you’d try to step up and fill in where he lacked. I wanted my terms with Erik fully figured out before I dragged you back into this.”

“What are those terms exactly?” Holden looks up from where he’d buried his face in his hands.

“Supervised visits with either myself present or a nanny of my choosing in exchange for child support payments.”

“Because the payout I gave you eight years ago wasn’t enough?” Erik sputters, arms crossing.

Megan glares at him. “Because the payout you gave years ago went to my parents. I barely saw a dime of it. And it wasn’t legally binding.” Megan turns around to face us again. “Lucille, the nanny, is in the kitchen and will report back to me on any untoward parenting behavior she may see. In the meantime, I have to get to a catering job.”

Megan pauses to cross to Holden and bends to kiss him on the forehead. “Please don’t be mad at me. You deserve to be Jamie’s uncle. You deserve to have a life that’s yours. You both do,” she adds with a glance at me.

And with that, she’s out the door.

I take the seat next to Holden as he processes this information slowly and glance around the house. I’ve only really been here once before, but McCay’s absence is as palpable as the chilly draft blowing in through the antique Victorian windows.

The ornate, gold coat rack by the door where she always hung her Louis Vuitton was conspicuously absent. As was the side table that held her keys and sunglasses. The fancy designer shoes that lined beneath the hutch by the staircase was also completely void of any Jimmy Choos or Gucci.

“Erik,” I say quietly. “Where’s Laurie?”

I can feel how rigid he grows with the question, even from across the room. “She’s gone. The moment she found out Jamie was mine, she grabbed her shit and left,” he mumbles. “Said something about she didn’t want to be a stepmom to a grown up, let alone a kid.”

Erik sighs heaving and drops into the chair next to me.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Holden offers, but his voice doesn’t hold an ounce of empathy.

“No you’re not,” Erik says.

Another beat of silence before Holden responds, “You’re right. I’m not. McCay was the fucking worst, second only to you.”

Erik gave a bitter chuckle. “I know. I’m sure it doesn’t seem like it, but I have been trying to make things right. This show. Your directing gig. Hell, even with this one.” He gestures flippantly at me.

This one.

Like I’m just one stop on a long, local train ride.

“This one has a name,” Holden says. “This one is making it so your show you produced is sold out every night this week. This one is going to win you a Tony. And most importantly, someday this one is going to be your daughter-in-law. So I suggest you learn her fucking name, Dad.”

A sharp intake of breath escapes my lips at his words. He had mentioned this the other week at ice cream, too, but with everything going on, it had slipped my mind. My heart races and my chest tightens with emotion.

The air was heavy with unspoken emotions and the electricity of a love that refused to be broken… even when our souls were. Holden's words, like a key turning in a lock, unbolts the deepest parts of my heart and allows the overwhelming rush of love to wash over me, undeniable and unbreakable.

Holden stands, taking my hand and gently pulling me to my feet, too.

Erik runs his hands through his hair sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” he says louder. “To both of you. I know I failed you… as a boy. As a man. As a father. I failed your mother, too. And I don’t want to with Jamie. But I don’t really know how to do this.”

Standing in front of the open door, Holden swallows hard, looking up the stairs at where Jamie has disappeared into his room. “He’s a good kid, Dad. He deserves better than you. But you’re what he’s got… so for once, choose him. Choose fatherhood over getting your dick wet. And it’s not too late for me. I’m still here, despite everything.”

Erik gives a bitter chuckle that cracks in his throat. “I don’t even know where to begin with an eight-year-old boy.”

Holden jerks his head to the stairs. “Start with Bumblebee. Every kid loves Bumblebee transformers.” Holden begins to turn to leave, then stops himself. “And Dad?”

“Hm?”

“Might I suggest keeping a journal.” Holden pauses to squeeze my hand. “It really helped me through the years.”