Love Emerged (32 page)

Bea

I RUSH TO MY ROOM
when I get home. Dylan had to go back to the office, and I’m on bereavement leave, so I’m by myself, which makes me happy. Not because I don’t love Dylan, I do, but I feel like this letter could change my life, and I want to experience it by myself. Maybe if I’m lucky, whatever my father left me will heal the hole his absence left in my heart.

I sit on my bed, placing the box in front of me. My hands hesitate, and I lay them on the box for a few moments, but Wayne’s words ring too loud in my ears, so I pick it up.

There lies a letter and a ring. I twirl the metal around my finger, admiring a blue diamond with a platinum band.

Looking closer, I see it’s engraved with,
Love to my daughter
.

I clench it in my hands, holding it to my heart.

Pushing the breathtaking ring onto my finger, I hold the envelope in my hands. It’s scripted with,
To my daughter
.

My heart races as I unfold the paper that weighs heavily in my hands. Sucking in a much-needed breath, I begin reading.

Bea,

Here’s the classic line, but it’s true. If you’re reading this, I’m gone. Either Wayne or Gretchen gave this to you, so I’m glad I can trust them as much as I thought I could. Trust is a hard thing, especially when you have so much for people to take. For me, that’s money. For you, that’s your heart.

I’m afraid you’ve been stuck in this limbo state for most of your life, and I haven’t helped you escape it, which I should have. It was my job as a father to make sure you were growing the way you were supposed to. I guess I left too much responsibility to your mom.

I’ve enjoyed the past few weeks with your visits and talking frankly about your life, but I’m ashamed I still kept something from you. I’m even more ashamed that I have chosen to tell you in a letter rather than face-to-face.

Being born a Vitron wasn’t easy for either one of us, but I grew up with these expectations, and I never thought about stepping out of them to see what would happen until a few years ago, late in my life when I knew I was dying from hiding from the truth with alcohol.

Since you are so straightforward, I’m not going to beat around the issue. I’m gay. Yes, you read that right. And I fell in love with Wayne years ago. He has been unbelievably patient with me, but I still failed him because I couldn’t come out.

He’s only one part of how embarrassed of a man I am. I need to tell you more, so please promise you’ll continue reading. Even while writing this letter, I’ve stopped ten times, unable to find the words because words mean nothing, but to so many, they will.

Here it goes. I’m not your biological father.

I place the letter on my bed as tears prick my eyes.
How could they lie to me all my life?
All the feelings that I didn’t belong were justified. I didn’t, and I’m thinking June fucking knew. I take a deep breath because he wanted me to read the rest of the letter.

Still there? I’m sure you needed a breather, but I hope you came back.

Your mom got pregnant right before she met me. She lied and told me you were mine. I believed her until you were two, and you cut yourself. Remember?

I’ve seen the pictures of me lying in a hospital bed. I got cut, and they couldn’t stop the bleeding. Every time I asked my mom about it, she’d tell me that she couldn’t remember why.

I’m not even sure why, but they tested our blood. You’re Type O, in case you didn’t know. I’m AB, and your mom is A. If you need a refresher on biology, it can’t happen, Bea. It was wrong of me to take it out on you. I should have continued to be your father, but I was a weak man.

I promised your mom I would never tell you, and I’m pretty sure that’s why she accompanied you that first visit.

Please remember this one thing, and that is why it is engraved on that ring. You are my daughter. I might have realized it too late in life, but you are. Please believe me when I say, I love you, much more than I’m able to convey.

I’m sorry for allowing my mother to treat you the way she did and for not stopping my family. I did fight behind closed doors. Got them to promise to never tell you the truth. I didn’t want anyone to figure out I was gay, which your mother threatened she’d let leak if anyone found out you weren’t mine.

Please find it in your heart to forgive a dying man. If I were in front of you, I’d be on my knees with my hand over my heart, begging for forgiveness.

Okay, let’s move on to your money. Everything of mine is yours, as you’ll learn when the Will is read. It’s been this way since you turned eighteen. You do what you want, but I’ll leave you one piece of fatherly advice. Start your own company. You are too talented of a girl to work for someone else. Very few people get the chance or the means to be an entrepreneur. Hire that dream of a boyfriend, too. The two of you will make a success.

I’m not writing a novel, so it’s time I wind this up. I lied. I have one more piece of advice. Always listen to your gut, and don’t live for others. Live for your yourself. Just make sure you’re happy.

Love,

Dad

It takes a moment for me to process all the information, but honestly, he’s right. He’s the only father I know, and I’m not really interested in finding my real one. Not like my mother would know.

I pick up my phone and dial her phone number, but it goes right to voice mail.

“Hey, Mom, can you call me? I lost track of where you are. Dad just had his Will read.”

The Will should get her ass moving on getting back to me. She must have met someone because I haven’t heard from her in weeks.

Two days, and still nothing from my mom. Her new guy must be something special if she’s not checking voice mail.

Discouraged doesn’t even describe it. Dylan wants to come with me when I meet her, but I’m not sure I want him to. The problem with that is he feels like he’s not needed, and his feelings get hurt.

I walk into the office, the tray of coffees in my hand. Dylan had to go in early today because Tim wanted to talk to him. Our new office building is nice, and the new employees seem cool.

“Good morning, Maura,” I greet our receptionist, dropping a coffee on her desk.

Surprise hits her face. “Thanks, Bea.”

I smile and move on. The one advantage to the new office is that I have my own cubicle. So, I stop at Dylan’s, dropping off his coffee, and I give John his. He fought hard, but he got them to agree on bringing him to Chicago.

I’m at my desk when Tim pages me, asking me to come into his office.

Dylan is sitting there when I walk in, and I wonder why. Tim smiles, holding his hand out to the chair right next to Dylan.

Walking over, I notice Dylan doesn’t make eye contact with me. His knee is bouncing up and down while he chews on his fingernails.

Oh my God, I’m getting fired.

I’ve worked for this company for two years, and I just helped secure the Nike account. And, now, they’re going to fire me. I’m on the edge of my seat, ready to give Tim a tongue-lashing.

“You’re being promoted to senior exec,” Tim says.

I retract my claws, sliding back into the seat.

Finally, I release a breath. “Thank you.”

I smile over to Dylan, but he hardly makes any contact with me.

“Why are you being so depressed, McCain? Bea, Dylan is being promoted to ad manager. He’ll be your boss.” Tim nods, smiling as though I should be ecstatic.

Let’s not even talk about how he’s been here for months and me, years. Quickly, that promotion to senior exec isn’t looking so hot.

“Oh, how nice,” I bite out my words.

Dylan again concentrates on his tapping of fingers.

“Now, Bea, I know it might upset you, but Dylan was hand-selected from NYU. The firm paid a lot of money to get him.”

“Oh, did they?” I glance over at Dylan again, but he continues to ignore me.

“Well, not more than you,” Tim backtracks, like I’m an idiot and didn’t put two and two together that Dylan’s been getting paid more money than me this entire time.

Probably because I’m a woman. Well, Bea can do math. Son of a bitch.

“Of course,” I comment, gritting my teeth. “Is that all, Tim?” I ask.

He leans back. “Yes, you’ll be moving next week to your own office.”

I don’t bother asking the list of questions in my head. I just need to get away from Dylan because I’m about ready to throw up.

I walk out of Tim’s office, bypassing everyone right to the restroom. After composing myself to get through this workday without punching him in the face, I open the door, and a pair of green eyes are staring back at me.

“Can we talk?”

“You can go to hell.”

“Come on, Bea.”

I walk by him and right into Tim’s office.

“Tim,” I call out.

Dylan follows me in.

“Can I talk to you—alone?” I eye Dylan, who blows out a long breath.

“Sure. McCain, excuse us.”

Dylan stands there, refusing to leave, so I hold the door open.

“McCain, leave,” Tim says.

Dylan backs up and out the door.

I slowly close it, giving him a condescending small wave of my hand.

“What’s up, Bea?” Tim says, sitting down in his chair.

I approach but don’t take a seat. My hands rest on the back of the chair, and I let out a big breath to gain the self-esteem I need. “I have to leave. I’m quitting. I’m officially giving my two weeks.”

I revel in how awesome that felt.

“Bea, no. Why? I know your father died, but—” His eyes widen. “You don’t need the money.”

I shake my head. “That has nothing to do with this. I just need time to think about what I want in the future.”

“It’s not about McCain getting the job, is it? Because, honestly, it came from upper management. My hands were tied.”

They weren’t tied for two years.

“No, Tim. I just need to do something for myself.”

“All right. I’m sad to see you go, but I can’t make you stay. Write me a letter of resignation, and email it to me. I’ll shoot it over to Human Resources.”

I nod.

“Thank you, Tim.”

He says nothing, no fight to keep me. The bastard is probably happy to see me go. But he won’t be when he finds out where I’m going.

I open the door, and there’s Dylan again, waiting for me. The man is persistent. I’ll give him that. I walk into my cubicle, and he follows.

“Let’s go talk.”

I hold up my hand. “I’m not upset, Dylan. Well, I am, and I’m mad that you kept it from me. You preach about trust, and honesty, but you didn’t do that with me, and it hurts.”

All the cubicles silence around us, and I don’t really care if they overhear now because I’m leaving. This must be why people hate work romances.

“Bea, I just didn’t—”

“Want to hurt me. I know that, but it doesn’t change that you purposely kept something from me. I just need time.”

Dylan nods and steps out of the cubicle, sulking back to his own.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he says over the wall.

I don’t respond.

I type up my letter of resignation and email it to Tim, copying Human Resources. I’m packing up my bag when my phone rings.

Mom.

“Hi, Mom,” I answer immediately, pleasant and nice before she senses how upset I am.

“Hi, baby. What is this about your father’s Will?”

“Oh, I wanted to talk to you about it, but face-to-face. When are you returning?”

“Not until after New Year’s. Hey, why don’t you join me for Christmas?”

I think about it because I had visions of Dylan and I spending our first Christmas together. We’ve already decided to open our gifts the day before we leave for the McCain’s. The expensive watch I bought him is hiding in my sweater drawer.

But I need to face the heartache she’s caused me.

“Perfect. I’ll see you in a day or two.”

Dylan stands up. “What? No.” His face forms in a range from confusion to anger.

“Where are you?” I grab a pen and paper to jot it down.

“Bea!” Dylan’s face is getting redder. He takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose.

She tells me where she’s at and even agrees to meet me at the airport. It’s amazing what this woman will do for money.

I hang up the phone and quickly button my coat, but Dylan’s there when I turn around.

“You’re not leaving me for Christmas.” He’s almost demanding it.

I place my hand on his chest. God, I love him.

His eyes are filled with anguish, and I know I have to reassure him.

“Dylan, I need to do this by myself. I will make it back as soon as I can, but my issues with her need closure.”

He backs away, granting me the space I asked for once again.

“Thank you. I’ll be back, and we can talk then.” I kiss his cheek and hightail it out of the building.