Page 81 of Resurrection

The stairs creak from someone’s heavy footsteps. They must be Eric, but even still, I reach into my jacket to rest my hand on my gun.

The stairs are at the rear of the house, near the kitchen. It only takes a moment for Eric to materialize in the doorway, cradling something in his arms.

Beside me, Carys digs her nails into my forearm.

What’s in the blanket?

Eric ignores me, his gaze locked on her. He shifts the bundle ever so slightly when he reaches her. Her hand leaves my arm, and everything narrows, happens in slow motion. He places the squirming thing in her arms, and the tiniest sigh escapes her lips.

It’s a baby.It’s a fucking baby.

“Carys, I’d like you to meet Lucas. Our son,” Eric says.

Charles claps and rushes forward to embrace her and the baby in a weird side hug.

What the actual fuck is going on?

Chapter Thirty

Carys

Istare into my arms at the baby wrapped in a pale-blue blanket. He has dark hair, and his eyes are closed in sleep. His fingers have the tiniest nails, and I want to touch every one, count them, savor this moment. I’m so absorbed in the sight of a baby, it takes me a second to process Eric’s words.

“What?” I glance up, a little dazed.

“Our son.” Eric gives me an encouraging nod. “You weren’t here for the birth, but I know you always wanted to name our boy Lucas after your brother.”

I laugh self-consciously and shift the baby to hand him to Eric. “This isn’t my baby.” When I try to pass the bundle, he steps out of reach. “He can’t be my baby. It’s impossible.”

“Not impossible,” my father whispers. “You were searching for a surrogate when you two split.”

“Exactly,” I agree. “Eric and I broke up, and we destroyed the embryos. I signed paperwork to have them destroyed.”

My father grimaces.

Eric shifts his feet. “This isn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

“I signed papers to have the embryos destroyed.” I repeat the words, this time louder, hoping they’ll stick in someone’s brain. “This baby can’t be mine!”

“You’ll wake him, Carys. You don’t need to shout.” Eric’s hand drifts to the baby’s forehead, and it seems to soothe them both.

“You signed papers to have the embryos destroyed, that’s true. But the leftover eggs were released to Eric.” My father holds his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

“What?” When I start to shake, Finn’s hand trails down my back to rest above my waist. “How? I would remember agreeing to that. I would. I wouldn’t have done that. Why would I do that?”

Charles sighs. “It was after the last miscarriage.” He searches my face for a moment. “You were in a pretty dark place.”

My mind struggles to compute what he’s saying. Yes, I didn’t cope very well when I found out Eric was a serial cheater paying for abortions when I’d miscarried for the seventh time. A baby with Eric wasn’t the solution to our problems. I knew it then, and I sure as hell know it now.

“I bounced back, Dad. I always bounced the fuck back.” Then like a torrential downpour appearing out of nowhere, the truth drops. “Youdid this?” Disbelief rushes through me. “You had a hand in this?”

The baby wiggles, and I adjust my hold. But I can’t acknowledge him. Each time I register that I have a baby in my arms and hemightbe mine, I no longer care quite enough how it happened, why it’s happened, or whether the baby is even mine.

A baby.

“For years,” Charles says, “you wanted a child. You went through so much to get pregnant, and then to never carry a baby to term? Destroying the eggs seemed foolish. They might have been your last chance to be a mother. I did what I needed todo to make sure you weren’t throwing away an opportunity.” He gestures to the baby in my arms. “Now you get to be a mom.”

If it wasn’t for Finn’s hand on my back, I’d be unhinged. When I peer up at him, his face is impossible to read. It’s granite. But inside, my heart is breaking. If this baby is mine, biologically mine, everything I’ve been planning with Finn can’t happen. Or at least, it can’t happen the way we envisioned. Does he realize that?

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