“So, what happened, exactly?” Ben asked. “There were rumors about your parents and why your mom left.”
“What kinds of rumors?” she asked, irritation rising. Her father had stayed in Haggerston, and the town should have known what kind of husband and father he’d been—not exemplary.
Ben unlocked her door and she got in. A moment later, he got into the driver’s side and, without looking at her, said, “People said she met someone else.”
“She wasn’t cheating on my father,” Sofia said dryly. “She’d just had enough. Sometimes women reach their limit.”
“But you both left without saying goodbye to anyone,” he said, finally looking in her direction. “I found out when I came by your place, and your dad told me you were gone. You never did answer my emails.”
“We were broken up, if you recall,” she said defensively. “I didn’t just leave town without telling my boyfriend. I left without telling my ex-boyfriend. I was no longer your business.”
“Technically,” he replied evenly.
“What does that even mean?” she demanded. “We were seventeen. We were kids. Do you honestly think I owed you something after you broke my heart?”
She felt the hypocrisy of the words as they passed her lips. She’d left pregnant with his son—of course she owed him something! But he didn’t know that, and his argument right now was surrounding the fact that she’d left at all without telling him her plans. And while she knew that she had to tell Ben about his son—and her son about his father—she’d wanted to wait until the time was right, until she had full control of the situation. Now that she was working with Ben, she’d have to tell him sooner than she’d planned, and her stomach sank at the thought.
“Yeah, I think you did owe me something,” he said, and the heaviness in his tone made her wonder if perhaps he did know more than he was letting on. “We weren’t just a couple, we were—”
She waited, but he didn’t finish the sentence.
“We were each other’s first loves,” she concluded. “Even if that relationship was over—”
“I still loved you. That hadn’t ended for me.”
Sofia froze, his words tickling something deep inside of her. He met her gaze, held it, then put the key into the ignition and the cruiser rumbled to life. So if he’d still loved her, why dump her? Why leave her alone in the parking lot of the community center in a tulle gown? That didn’t sound like love to her; though something in his voice suggested that he still felt something for her, and she couldn’t help the heat that rose in her cheeks.
“Anyway,” he said, breaking the silence. “Like I said, it’s been a long time.”
Her cell phone rang, and Sofia glanced down to see her father’s number. It was a welcome interruption right then, and she picked it up before it could ring twice.
“Hi, Dad,” she said, trying to keep her voice casual.
“Hi, kiddo,” he said, using the same endearment he’d used as long as she could remember. “We, uh, have a situation over here.”
“What kind of situation?” she asked.
“Jack is sick.”
“Sick? How sick? Does he have a fever?”
“I don’t know. He’s throwing up, though, and it’s not stopping.”
She sighed. “Did you give him the gluten-free cereal for breakfast?”
“Of course.”
“With the almond milk, not the dairy?”
“Uh, yeah. I think.”
She closed her eyes. “What else did he have, Dad?”
“A cannoli.”
“A cannoli? You gave him a cannoli?” she demanded. “That’s full of everything he’s allergic to!”
“I thought he was like other kids. They’ve got the metabolism of rats.”
“Well, he’s not,” she replied, attempting to keep her anger in check. She’d explained all of this to her father in detail this morning. He’d said he understood. But this was like her father had always been, doing it his own way. What did he think, that she’d just been being dramatic when she explained all of this?
“What do I do?” He sounded contrite.
“I’m coming home,” she said, and without even saying goodbye, she punched the end button. Sofia glanced up to find Ben watching her, an odd expression on his face. When she looked over, he flicked his gaze back to the road ahead of him.
“You’re a mom?” he asked after a moment.
“I am. I have a son—Jack.”
“Everything okay over there?” he asked.
“Not really. Look, I know this is an inconvenience, but could we swing by my father’s house so I can check on my son? He has allergies, and my father—” She shook her head. “I just need to make sure he’s okay.”
“Sure.” He signaled a turn, and they headed back toward the main drag.
Sofia’s mind was on Jack right then, his poor little digestive system in knots because of his grandfather’s negligence. And because Jack didn’t seem to take his own allergies as seriously as he should, either, if she had to be completely fair.
She glanced at Ben. She’d have to tell him soon—she knew that. But not yet. She had this under control, and when Ben knew that he was a father, everything would change. Working together would be more tense than it already was, and she’d have no escape. She couldn’t afford to lose this precarious balance just yet.
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “I appreciate it.”
* * *
She has a son. That little fact seemed to hit Ben in the gut like a sucker punch. He didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him before that she’d have children. In the time since high school, he’d gotten married and had a child, too.
He swallowed against the tightness in his throat.
He’d married Lisa four years ago. They’d met in a coffee shop when her car wouldn’t start. He’d given her a jump from his cruiser and gotten her number. Six months later, they were married. Lisa had always wanted a baby, and they’d tried for two years before she finally got pregnant. It was supposed to be free sailing after that, and neither of them had expected the complications. Before she’d even had her first baby shower, Lisa was admitted to the hospital for high blood pressure. The baby was born via emergency C-section at six months, and his wife had died on the operating table. His baby girl died two days later in the NICU. At barely two pounds, she was too tiny to make it.
And Sofia had a son.
Was this jealousy he felt? Mandy was frozen at the newborn stage in his mind, but from time to time he wondered what little Mandy would be doing if she’d lived. Right now, she’d be a year and a half. She’d probably be toddling around and calling him Dada.
His daughter had been the reason why he wanted to clean up this town. When he’d found out his wife was pregnant, he’d gotten this sudden protectiveness at the very idea of this little person. He wanted Haggerston to be the kind of place a kid could grow up safe and happy. His own upbringing had been neither. When he’d lost his daughter, his drive hadn’t changed. There were other kids growing up here—kids growing up just as poor as he had—and he wanted to make a difference for them, too.
“So how old is your son?” he asked.
“Eight.”