As she faced the incubator holding Angel—keeping her warm, guarding her, and helping her grow—more tears welled up in her eyes. She wanted to be selfish, wanted to keep her daughter all to herself, but she knew that wasn’t right. She knew that Jackson deserved to be a part of her life. He’d given so much of himself, loved his daughter without even knowing she was his.
He deserved to be told the truth, and that should have happened long ago. Despite the fear that nearly suffocated her, she took a breath and prepared to tell him. It was most likely far safer for her to tell him in public, where he wouldn’t scream and yell, where he wouldn’t tell her what a monster she was for not telling him sooner.
Would he hate her forever? She was about to find out.
“Jackson . . .” She paused as he rested his hand on her shoulder and smiled down at her.
“I know. It’s overwhelming, Alyssa.” He leaned down and brushed his lips across her cheek.
“No, it’s not that. I mean, yes, it is overwhelming. But that’s not what I’m having a difficult time telling you.” Again she paused.
Jackson kneeled down and took her hands. “You can tell me anything,” he said.
She believed him. Yes, she could tell him anything. Of course, he had no clue what he was about to be hit with.
“Jackson. She’s your daughter.”
The expression on his face lasted several heartbeats before it fell away and a stone mask appeared in its place.
“Excuse me?”
She couldn’t tell from his tone what he was feeling.
“I know I should have told you before now. I know it was wrong of me, but I was scared. I didn’t want you to take her from me. I didn’t want to lose her. I didn’t know . . .” What else could she really say?
She’d been living in his home, making love to him, lying in his arms night after night. And then he’d stayed by her side while she got better, taken care of their daughter as much as he was allowed, and barely left the hospital. And to repay him for all his kindness, she’d lied to him, kept him from knowing that the infant he was caring for was his child, and she’d betrayed him. How could he ever speak to her again?
“That’s impossible. We used protection,” he said, his face still a mask.
“It failed. I wasn’t with anyone else, Jackson. She is your daughter.” Saying it this time, her voice was stronger, but fear was eating her alive. What would he do now?
“She’s my daughter?” The words were spoken quietly, a question, but at the same time not. He knew; it was just taking time to process.
“Yes, she’s yours. I really didn’t think I would see you again, and then when I did, I was in shock. And then . . .” She trailed off as she watched his eyes narrow.
“What, Alyssa?” he asked coldly. “There wasn’t an opportunity?”
“I tried telling myself that. At first I was afraid. I was afraid you would try to take her from me, and then I was afraid because I’d waited so long. I didn’t know how to tell you.” No, her words weren’t good enough, but she didn’t know what else to say.
“You seem to be afraid quite often. Haven’t I shown you that I’m trying? Haven’t I given you all that I can of myself?”
“Yes, Jackson. This isn’t about you. I know you will make an excellent father. You are a good man, and have been more than fair to me. I just didn’t want to lose you,” she blurted out, the last words coming out on a sob.
“You may have just done exactly that.”
He walked from the room without another word.
Alyssa shook uncontrollably. She would have much preferred it if he’d yelled at her, or cried, or done anything other than skewer her with such a cold expression before he walked away. Had she just destroyed any chance whatsoever that they’d be friends? She was almost certain she’d killed their relationship. Lies never ended well.
What if he hated her with a burning passion, and the next eighteen years were filled with painfully uncomfortable meetings when they passed their daughter back and forth between them? She’d been a fool. Everything would have been so much easier if she’d simply told him the truth sooner. Now she would have to wait and wait . . . Hanging her head, Alyssa put her hand back inside the incubator and touched her daughter’s delicate fingers again.
“It will be okay, Angel. It will all be okay.”
Was she telling this to herself or her daughter? Alyssa really didn’t know.
Before he was smart enough to stop himself, Jackson slammed his fist into the tailgate of his truck. Sharp pain exploded through his knuckles and up his arm. He couldn’t regret it, though. The pain helped divert him from the ache that was consuming his chest.
How could she have lied to him for so long? Was he completely and utterly wrong about her? He’d thought he was getting to know the woman so well. Apparently not.
He grabbed a bottle of smoked-salmon vodka that he’d bought in Alaska as a gag gift for Camden. Since it was the only liquor available to him, he’d choke the awful stuff down. Opening his tailgate, he jumped up and made himself comfortable. He didn’t know how long he’d sit there and think. Let them try to tell him he couldn’t sit in the parking lot and take a medicinal shot of booze in the back of his own freaking truck. It was a hell of a day already, and it wasn’t yet noon.
Then a wider reality started to sink in. He was a father.
That thought went around and around in his mind. He’d vowed that he would never have another child again, not after losing his daughter, Olivia. It had been too painful for him. But that was before Alyssa appeared in his life.
He’d felt safer taking care of her and her child. It wasn’t his baby. He wasn’t responsible for her. How stupid. Although he had thought she wasn’t his, he had accepted that responsibility. He never had used a get-out-of-jail-free card and walked away from Alyssa and her baby—no, their baby.
Why hadn’t he run like hell? Why had he set himself up for failure again? He could easily lose this daughter as well. She was strong, fighting and growing every day, but Spence had told him she wasn’t out of the woods yet. There was just so much that could go wrong with a preemie, especially one with heart trouble. What if he allowed himself to love her and then he lost her? He wouldn’t be able to survive the loss of a second baby.
Jackson hung his head as he threw back some of the disgusting vodka—gag gift indeed—then dropped the bottle in the bed of his truck. He didn’t think he could keep on drinking the stuff. Besides, he didn’t want to get drunk. He just wanted some of the pain to vanish.