Page 24 of Love Without Demands

She seems completely unconcerned about me finding the hidey hole with the letters in it. I’m pretty sure that means she knows nothing about it.

We say our goodbyes, and once home, I reach beneath my bed for the shoe box. I’ll just read a couple more to see if I can figure out who this Bouvier man is in relation to my father and why he sent me a bike.

Papa was a Marine for two years before he was discharged due to an injury. Maybe Bouvier served with him.

Opening the second letter in the stack, I begin reading.

My gaze goes back to the second paragraph. I read it seven more times before those two words sink in and begin to make sense.

My son.

Only, it doesn’t make sense at all. I’m not this man’s son. Benjamin Estrada is my father. Though I’ve always wondered why I have blue eyes and the rest of my family has brown eyes.

But no. It can’t be. Dread seeps into every bone in my body, making them feel soft. My legs barely hold me up when I stand and find my computer, and my hands shake so badly, I have trouble typing the name into my search engine.

Paul Bouvier.

Articles flood my screen. Apparently this man’s famous in the fashion world, and that’s when I remember the fancy suit Papa had given me for my high school graduation. It was a charcoal-gray Bouvier suit.

Fuck.

I click on the images tab, and photos of the man spread across the screen. He appears older than my parents, and he has salt-and-pepper hair and…

Goddammit.

The bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. But in actuality, I have seen those eyes. Many times.

Every time I look in the mirror.

I stood outside the restaurant and peered into the window. I always had to do that before my Monday night dinners, simplyto ground myself before meeting my dinner companion. It was easier than it was the first time, which was almost a year ago.

Leaving the heat of the August evening behind me, I entered the cozy bistro, my face cooling from the blast of air conditioning that met me. The hostess looked up and smiled.

“He’s already here,” she informed me.

No surprise. He was always here before me. I made my way to our regular table nestled in the back, out of view of most of the other diners.

He stood with a huge smile on his face, and I walked toward Paul Bouvier.

My biological father.

Chapter 7

“Hi, son.” Paul pulledme into a hug, and I returned the embrace before we took our seats across the table from each other. He greeted me the same way every time, and it was beginning to feel more natural, him calling me son.

I wasn’t quite ready to call him Dad yet—and I wasn’t sure I ever would be—so I replied in my usual manner. “Hi, Paul. It’s good to see you.” And I meant it. I really liked Paul Bouvier. Was he a perfect person who’d never made any mistakes? Absolutely not. But was he one of the most genuine people I’d ever met? A million percent.

It’s why I tolerated his affections and no longer cringed when he called me his son. He’d been so fucking kind and understanding with me and the way I struggled with all this new information. He answered every question I had for him, even the things that were difficult for him to discuss.

“How is work going?” he asked.

“Very well. Both jobs. I got to work with the team this past weekend. Not much exciting going on, mostly serving high-risk search warrants.”

His face was solemn as he nodded. “I’m very proud of you, Cruz, but I worry.”

“You don’t need to. We’re the most highly trained officers on the force, so we’re prepared for anything.”

“I don’t doubt your abilities for a second, but I know what you do can be very dangerous. I just keep telling myself that your training will keep you safe.” His head tilts to the side. “Did I tell you I came to your boot camp graduation?”

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