A Daddy for Mother's Day_A Secret Baby Romance Page 16

  Each day is getting harder not to spill the beans to Brady, just because they’re so undeniably alike. Part of me wants to shout it from the rooftops. But the other part of me lingers on Lucy’s request.

  It was literally my sister’s dying wish to not tell him and ruin his career. And not to mention his interview the other day…he doesn’t even want kids.

  “Are you ready?” Brady asks, growing slightly impatient.

  “Yeah, I just found my key,” I explain as I hold up the key and jingle it in front of them. “Let’s get going!”

  As we pull up to the school, Liam is practically ready to pounce out of the car and rush us to the cafeteria. He’s over the moon about Brady’s appearance, and he’s just dying to show him off to his friends.

  As we’re walking to the school, Brady takes every moment in stride. He makes the whole pancake breakfast at school thing as normal as possible, making me look at him like a real dad.

  Of course, the crazy thing about all this is is how he doesn’t know that he is a dad.

  As we all stand in front of the school with all of Liam’s friends, there’s mobs of teachers, parents, and students all trying to get their pictures taken with Brady and hounding him for autographs.

  He does quite a few as discreetly as possible, and then informs the crowd that he’s here to have lunch ‘with his best friend, Liam’.

  My heart has officially melted. Seeing how incredibly happy Liam is really makes all of the strife over the past few days truly worth it.

  The whole engagement is entirely pleasant. That is, until a swarm of paparazzi fly up to the school.

  Microphones are being shoved at his face.

  “Do you have a son, Brady?”

  “How old is he?”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Who’s the mother?”

  Brady refuses the press and has no interest in answering any of their prodding questions. However, Liam is a bit more naive.

  “Brady is my best friend! He’s not my daddy. I don’t have one. My mommy is over there, though! And if her and Brady get married, then he’ll be my dad.”

  Brady and I exchange looks of horror. We can read one another’s face that it’s time to go inside.

  He lifts Liam, and we rush through the building and into the cafeteria.

  “Who were those people, Mommy? And why did we have to go in so fast? All of my friends wanted to see me and Brady.”

  “I know, buddy. I’m sorry. But it’s more complicated than it seems. How about we get you some pancakes now?”

  I smile reassuringly towards Liam the entire breakfast. But, in reality, I’m just as confused as he is. He’s gotten so attached to Brady, but that damn interview keeps creeping back into my thoughts.

  What if he finds out? He doesn’t want any kids tying him down. What would it do to Liam to know?

  The whole encounter has me all out of whack. I really don’t know what to say or what to do. I feel like I’m damned if I’m honest with him—he’ll see Liam as a burden, and I’d be violating Lucy’s final request.

  But, on the other side of the coin, there’s Liam. Who very obviously wants a father in his life.

  I hate indecision, but I’m not ready to tell or not tell. So I decide: I’m going to do nothing for now and see where things are going to go.

  Brady and I sit on either side of Liam and enjoy a perfectly mediocre, nutritionally incomplete pancake breakfast.

  Liam is all smiles with every bite and every sip of chocolate milk, as is his father.

  When the breakfast ends, Brady and I say our goodbyes to Liam, letting him run off to class.

  “Well, that was fun,” Brady says.

  “You think so?” I ask.

  “Yeah. He’s a really sweet kid, Izzie. You’re doing a great job with him. And I’m glad I could help make his day. I know it’s been rough for you guys.”

  “Yeah. Well, thank you, Brady. It means a lot to us both that you did this for him today.”

  Chapter 28

  Brady

  I stretch nice and hard as I crawl out of bed. Having the entire day off yesterday made me feel so refreshed to start my day today.

  I walk over to my bathroom and freshen up: wash my face, brush my teeth, and get rid of this fucking morning wood.

  I stumble back into my room, throw on some pants and a wife beater, and head downstairs to get started on my hard boiled eggs, two strips of bacon, and grapefruit recommended to me for breakfast by Dr. Isabella Williams herself.

  But before I make my way into the kitchen, I decide to sit on my porch for a few minutes and soak in the morning sun and the smell of my freshly trimmed grass. God, it’s great to have landscapers.

  I plop down onto my porch swing and see a newspaper thrown carelessly at my doorstep. I reach over to get it.

  Normally, I wouldn’t care. I would just wait for one of the maids to toss it. But, shit, do I care about this; it’s my name on another headline.

  But this time, it’s nothing I did.

  IS ALL STAR QUARTERBACK BRADY THOMAS A FATHER? The article says in big, bold letters.

  I can’t even do something nice for a family that needs help for one day without getting accused of something. There’s no foul play here, so why does everyone have to invade my privacy?

  I decide to read the whole thing just to see how ridiculous this little theory is.

  Recently traded quarterback, Brady Thomas, was spotted yesterday at Malibu Elementary school with Isabella Williams and a young Liam Williams. I was one of the lucky reporters to have a moment to see the group and identify the parties, and I’m here to dish out what information I’ve learned in the last twelve hours about the trio.

  Isabella Williams is the aunt of Liam Williams. His biological mother is a woman named Lucy Williams, who passed soon after his birth. It is believed that Brady Thomas and Lucy Williams were once together, based on multiple sources who wished to remain anonymous.

  There is a strong likelihood, in my eyes, and in the eyes of my fellow reporters, that Brady Thomas is the father of Liam Williams. The sheer similarities in their facial structure leave little to the imagination.

  Will Brady be leaving football to have a shot at fatherhood? We tried to reach out to Mr. Thomas but our attempts at contacting him were unsuccessful.

  What the actual fuck?

  Father? Liam? Lucy?

  Can any of this actually be true?

  Just as I drop the newspaper to the ground, Izzie emerges from inside.

  “Izzie, I need you to be honest with me,” I say, very pointedly. I lift the paper back off the ground and hand it to her. “Is this true?”

  She scans the article and I can see the color in her face physically change to a paler shade.

  “Well?” I demand.

  “Yes,” she finally responds. “Yes, Brady. It’s true.”

  “Are you shitting me?” I almost yell. “Seriously, Izzie? You’ve been hiding my own son under my nose this whole time? How long have you known?”

  “Since the day Lucy told me she was pregnant. She didn’t want to tell you, Brady. How was I supposed to?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Isabella. But it’s a damn shame to me that you would choose the feelings of a girl that died almost eight years ago over the other living, breathing parent that Liam has. This is seriously fucked up.”

  “I’ve been wanting to tell you! I really have. Liam’s gotten so close to you. I fought it every single day.”

  “Why? Why would you fight something like that? Have you thought about anyone other than Lucy this entire time?”

  “I’m not the one who told everyone that kids were such a burden, and that they would only hold you back from your future! That’s exactly what Lucy feared, and after that interview was published, it made me even more hesitant,” she counters.

  Fuck, I really did say that. But it’s no fucking excuse. This is my son we’re talking about.

  As I argue with Izzie, I can’t help but ima
gine all the things I would have done differently had I known.

  “Lucy fucking died from having this child. It hurt too much to try to explain it. And after so long, after seeing how big you’d become as an athlete, I wasn’t going to track you down and just spill to you one day that Liam is yours. It’s just not a possibility I would have entertained,” she says.

  “God, I knew he looked just like me, too. I thought about it, and, for just a split second, I thought he could even be my son. The instant bond I had with this kid is insane. It doesn’t happen. I shouldn’t have been so naive. And I shouldn’t have even begun to trust you.”

  “Trust me? How can you even say that with a straight face? You abandoned this family before it was even whole. I’ve made it my goal in life to make sure that Liam feels nothing short of loved and wanted. And I’ll be damned if this is going to ruin it for him!” she shouts.

  She rushes inside the house and stomps up the stairs.

  I go inside and decide to sit alone in my room, trying to process all of this. As I lay on my California king-sized bed, I hear furious movement, followed by a slamming door.

  Just hours ago, I enjoyed what I had going on with them, whatever it was. But now, it’s more complicated than that, and I don’t even know what to think or where to begin.

  Rather than chasing after them, I’m going to sit back, just for now. I can’t fuck this kid up by not addressing this tactfully. I just can’t.

  God, she fucking knew I was an orphan.

  Shit, she was one, too; I guess that’s why she’s so guarded with Liam. He thinks she’s his mom, and she doesn’t want him to know otherwise. I guess I can’t blame her; knowing that kind of loss is heart wrenching and literally the worst hurdle to jump as a kid.

  As much as I fucking hate her right now, I understand where she was coming from, too.

  Chapter 29

  Izzie

  He didn’t try to stop me. I don’t know why I thought he would, but he didn’t. I guess it was crazy of me to think he would give me a chance to explain myself, justify keeping Liam a secret, but there’s no talking to him.

  I run up the stairs two at a time. My only thought—the only thought I’ll allow myself right now—is to get out of the house as soon as possible. Away from Brady. Away from the cruel things he spewed at me.

  Reaching my room in record time, I grab my gym bag, the first bag I see and start throwing everything I can into it.

  Dirty clothes, a notebook, it doesn’t matter now. There’s no time for organization. The stuffed bag gets thrown into the hall and I start filling a new bag with all my shit.

  This frantic packing is what I imagine people do as a house burns to the ground—just trying to salvage anything you can while your world crumbles around you.

  Shaking uncontrollably from anger, hurt, and other emotions just rolling around inside me, I pack my belongings in record time before moving on to Liam’s, wiping tears from my eyes.

  In Liam’s room, I collapse on top of his bed. I just need a moment to catch my breath. To stop the world from spinning around me.

  But I don’t think the world will ever turn on its axis again. No, because of all the lies and secrets the world—my world—is spinning off into oblivion. All I can do now is try to hold on so I won’t get thrown into space.

  I shake my head, trying to rid the image of Brady standing there with that damn tabloid in his hand. I don’t know if it’s the confusion etched on his face or the hurt in his eyes, but I just want to erase the image from my mind; and ease my guilt along with it.

  If I stop and allow myself to think about it, I don’t know what I feel guiltier about: keeping the truth from Brady, or betraying my sister by falling for Brady?

  Not that my feelings for Brady matter now. That ship has not only sailed, it’s capsized and sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

  I was ready to run into his arms and tell him how everything’s changed now, how I was so wrong to think he shouldn’t know the truth. To keep the truth from him. But before I had the chance to tell him any of this, to tell him everything I feel for him now, he unloaded on me.

  He said all those hurtful things, crushing me. The only thought I could keep in my head was that I can’t be in his presence anymore. I can’t stand to hear him say another hurtful thing to me.

  In the middle of throwing Liam’s stuff in bags, he comes bounding in as happy and oblivious as only an innocent eight-year-old can be. He’s been blissful ever since we began staying here, and the thought of taking that away from him crushes me.

  That feeling only intensifies when I notice the football tucked under his arm. The same football that he and Brady have been throwing back-and-forth in the backyard for days now.

  Yesterday, Brady showed him a new way to hold the ball to make it go exactly where he wants it to. Liam practically beamed with happiness.

  Fuck, I hate that all of that’s going to end now.

  “What’s going on?” Liam asks.

  “Grab a few bags from the hall and wait for me in the car,” I say, not really looking his way, but still throwing toys and clothes in a bag.

  “What are you doing with my stuff?” Liam asks a little panicky.

  “We’re leaving, okay?” I say sharply, with an edge in my voice I’ve never had talking to Liam.

  “Leaving? Where? I don’t want to go!” he says, stomping his feet. “Is Brady going with us? He was going to throw passes with me.”

  “Not now, Liam!” I say forcefully. “Just do it. Don’t ask questions.”

  I grab Liam’s hand, and with both of us loaded down with bags, start heading downstairs to the front door. Once outside in the carport, Liam finally allows his shock to wear off and starts resisting me, jerking his hand out of mine.

  “I don’t want to leave,” he cries.

  Loading the bags into the trunk, I yell at him, saying, “This was never our home, Liam. We don’t belong here, and it’s time to stop living in this fantasy world.”

  As the words are coming out of my mouth, I’m shocking myself. I’ve never spoken to him that way. When he was five, he wanted to see if my phone would float so he threw it in the toilet.

  I was so mad at him, I couldn’t breathe. But even then, I didn’t yell at him like I did just now.

  I stare at the trunk with our belongings thrown there in a rush as I hear Liam sobbing, tears stinging my own eyes. I finally will myself to look at him, and it breaks my heart for the millionth time that day.

  I bend down so we’re eye to eye, taking one of his hands in one of mine. I wipe my dripping nose.

  “Honey, I am so sorry,” I say, “I never meant to scare you.”

  Which is true. Everything in my life—every action, every decision—has been in an effort to keep Liam safe and loved.

  And, in one shitty moment, I make him feel both unsafe and unloved. Lucy is probably regretting her decision to leave Liam in my care right about now.

  “I don’t understand it either, honey, but it’s time that we get back to our own lives, okay?” I say, wiping a tear from his cheek. “Now,” I say, trying to sound cheerful when I feel anything but, “let’s go get some ice cream, and I’ll try to answer your questions, hmm?”

  Liam sighs and in a quiet voice says, “Okay.”

  It’s like I’ve broken his spirit, but I don’t know if it’s because I yelled at him, or because I’m taking him away from this house with all its cool features. Or because he thinks he’s not going to see Brady again.

  We climb into the car, and I realize that the way I felt lashing out at Liam—that it wasn’t him but the hurt, confused feelings I had—was maybe the same way that Brady felt lashing out at me. I’m not the one he’s angry at.

  But no, that’s not true. Brady is angry at me.

  And he has every right to be. I’m the one who’s been lying to him every day since we met. Fuck, I stayed in his house with his son without ever telling him who Liam was.

  As we drive away, we’re both qui
et, deep in our own thoughts. I catch a glimpse of something in the rearview mirror. It’s the brown football sitting on the front lawn, getting smaller as we drive away until it disappears from sight.

  I look over at Liam, and it kills me all over again. Whatever might have happened between Brady and me, whatever feelings might have been beginning to blossom between us, is irrelevant. Liam is the one who stands to lose the most.

  And I’m the only one to blame.

  Chapter 30

  Brady

  I can’t remember the last time I felt so fucking used and betrayed in my life. This, honestly, is at the top of my list, no contest.

  I’m so torn up that I don’t even have the energy to peel myself from my couch. I’m just sitting here as if I’ve got nothing better to do. Honestly, though, I don’t know what to do.

  What is a guy supposed to do? How is he supposed to react when he finds out that the little boy he’d opened up his home to is actually his flesh and blood?

  What am I supposed to do knowing that Lucy, the love of my fucking life, died so shortly after having our son? The son I wasn’t even given a chance to know about, at that.

  My heart is heavy with doubt and regret—both feelings I do my very best to avoid entirely. Yet, despite my normal ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude, today has me pulled down beneath the floorboards. Metaphorically, I’m even down below the basement.

  Goddamn. I can’t even keep all of these puzzle pieces straight in my head. I’m in such shock that I haven’t been able to process the timeline of all of this.

  So, Lucy and I dated in college, and we parted ways right when I got signed. Shit. She knew she was pregnant, and she still had me go?

  I would have stayed for her. And I don’t think Izzie understands that.

  Fuck.

  Okay. So, Lucy...passes away. Liam is left, essentially, as an orphan.

  Izzie takes it upon herself to take guardianship over him. And for eight years, including now, she’s acted as his mother.

  My mind is completely blown. I couldn’t fathom being a sixteen-year-old girl taking care of her deceased sister’s son.