Chapter 13 The Search
I did not sleep after the park.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Rose hugging Damian. Felt the weight of his question hanging in the air between us. What aren’t you telling me?
I had no answer. Or rather, I had an answer I was too afraid to speak.
Sunday morning brought rain. The girls were quiet, sensing my mood. Lily drew pictures at the kitchen table. Rose sat by the window, watching the water streak down the glass.
“Mommy,” Rose said without turning. “Do you think he’ll figure it out?”
I set down my coffee. “I don’t know.”
“He will.” Her voice was calm. “He’s smart. And he looks at me like he’s already figured something out.”
I crossed the room and knelt beside her. “Rose, whatever happens, I need you to know I did what I thought was best. For you and Lily.”
She finally looked at me. “I know, Mommy.”
“Do you understand why I kept it a secret?”
She was quiet for a moment. “I think you were scared.”
“I was.”
“Are you still scared?”
I nodded.
She reached out and touched my cheek, a gesture so adult it made my heart ache. “Maybe you don’t have to be.”
By Monday, I had convinced myself to hold steady. Maintain distance. Keep the secret until I am ready.
But Damian had other plans.
His assistant called at noon. “Mr. Blackwood would like to reschedule this afternoon’s meeting. He has a personal matter to attend to.”
“Of course,” I said. “Is everything all right?”
A pause. “He’s at the courthouse. Something about a records request.”
My blood ran cold. “What kind of records?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. I’ll reschedule for Wednesday.”
I hung up and stared at the wall.
Records request. Courthouse. He was looking for something. And I knew, with a certainty that made my hands shake, what he was looking for.
He was looking for the truth about Rose.
I spent the afternoon in a fog. The wedding plans I had been reviewing blurred together, the words meaningless. My phone sat beside me, silent, and that silence was louder than any call.
At four o’clock, it buzzed.
Damian. Can we talk?
I typed back: About the wedding?
No. About Saturday. About Rose.
I stared at the screen. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
I’m busy, I lied.
Please, Ava. Just a few minutes. I need to understand something.
I did not answer. Three minutes passed. Then five.
Another message. I went to the courthouse today. I requested birth records for Rose and Lily. They’re sealed. Under your maiden name. Winters.
My breath stopped.
Why would you seal birth records unless you were hiding something?
I could not move. Could not think. He had found the one thread I thought I had buried.
Damian, I typed, then deleted it. Typed again, deleted again.
His next message came before I could respond. I’m not angry. I just need to know. Is there something you’re not telling me about Rose’s father?
I set the phone down and pressed my hands to my face. This was the moment. The door was opening, and I had to decide whether to step through or let it close forever.
I picked up the phone. My fingers moved before I could stop them.
Her father doesn’t know about her.
Why not?
Because I left before I could tell him.
A long pause. Then: What was his name?
I stared at the words. I could tell him. I could type three words: It was you. But once they were out, nothing would ever be the same.
I can’t have this conversation over text, I wrote.
Then let me come over. Or meet me somewhere.
Not today. I need time.
How much time?
I did not have an answer. I did not know if I ever would.
Please, Ava. I’ve been feeling this pull since the day I met you. Since the first moment I saw Rose. I need to know why.
I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I typed: Tomorrow. My office. Three o’clock.
I’ll be there.
I set the phone down and did not pick it up again.
That night, I sat with Rosa in the living room, the girls already asleep.
“He knows,” I said. “Or he’s close.”
Rosa exhaled slowly. “What are you going to do?”
“Tell him. Tomorrow.”
“Are you ready?”
I laughed, the sound hollow. “No. But I don’t think I ever will be.”
“Then maybe it’s time to stop waiting to be ready.” She took my hand. “Whatever happens, you’re not alone. You have those girls. You have me. And you have the truth, which is more than he’s had for five years.”
I nodded, but my chest was tight with fear.
“What if he hates me?” I whispered.
“He won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
Rosa squeezed my hand. “I know he looked at Rose like she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen. I know he’s been searching for answers since the moment he met you. A man who didn’t care wouldn’t go to the courthouse. He wouldn’t ask. He wouldn’t wait.”
I wanted to believe her. But the fear was older than Rosa’s assurances, older than Damian’s kindness. It had been growing in my chest for five years, and tomorrow, it would finally be set free.
My phone buzzed one last time before I went to bed.
Whatever you tell me tomorrow, I want you to know something. I’ve spent the last five years thinking I had nothing left to lose. Then I met your daughters. Then I met you. And I realized I was wrong.
I read the message three times. Then I typed: Goodnight, Damian.
Goodnight, Ava. See you tomorrow.
I set the phone down and stared at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, I will tell him the truth. Tomorrow, everything would change.
I only hoped that when the dust settled, we would still be standing.