Page 117 of Reckless Love

“He’ll be thrilled. I’ll let him know.”

When we hang up, I stare into space for a beat, letting this new blow to my reality sink in. What happens now?

“Don’t go,” Stephen says.

The minute I called him in the car while I was driving home, he left work to meet me at the house. Landon is still at school, thankfully. He’ll be happy his “dad” is alive, but having Raul awake just makes me realize my life is one giant bundle of lies.

“He’s asking for me.”

“Then you take divorce papers with you.”

“What about my mom? She said if I divorced him, she’ll come after you.”

“Let me worry about Celia.”

“How do I feel so ill prepared for this?” I toss items in my suitcase, not really paying attention to what I’m packing. “We had all this time, and we didn’t make a plan. You said we needed a plan, and we didn’t make one. We just stuck our heads in the sand and hoped he didn’t wake up.”

“Then don’t go,” Stephen says again. “Stay. We’ll call Caitlin. Put together a plan. Just because he’s asking for you doesn’t mean you have to go.”

“If he’s the same man he’s always been, then staying here and ignoring his request is as good as declaring war. We don’t want war with that man. That much I know.” I stop packing to meet Stephen’s gaze. “I think we both know that.”

“Go tomorrow morning,” Stephen offers. “Take your family jet. But go tomorrow. Please. Go with divorce papers. Tell him about Landon. Tell him you were both lied to. Then come home to me.”

He makes it sound so easy. Peaceful, even. “Whoops, we both got screwed. Can you sign here?” Except Raul told me what he’d do if I tried to leave, and unless he’s woken up a different man, he’ll follow through on that promise.

I’m in for a fight, and I’m not at all prepared.

“I’ll go tomorrow,” I agree. “Can you see if Caitlin will meet with us?”

In the end, I didn’t pack a suitcase. Fly to Boston. See Raul. Go home to my family.

In my oversized purse is a manilla envelope with the divorce papers Caitlin already had drafted “just in case” Raul woke up and I was ready to end things. Honestly, in my heart, I’ve been ready for years.

My only hope, really, is that learning Landon isn’t his son is a deal breaker. My son is the reason we got married, the reason we’ve stayed together. Once he realizes Landon isn’t biologically his child, I can’t see him wanting to stay. There’s no reason for him to stay.

Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

At the nurse’s station, I ask for Raul’s room. In the weeks he’s been here, I’ve never been to Boston to visit him. Other than a couple video chats that the nurses organized, thinking I’d want them, I haven’t made any effort beyond the bare minimum to keep in touch.

“This must have been so hard for you,” the nurse who’s showing me to his room says.

“It’s been a long journey,” I agree.

“And this is his room,” she says, gesturing to the next door. “Private. No one will disturb you. Keep in mind that he may still be a bit fragile.”

The divorce papers suddenly feel so much heavier in my bag. I nod because I don’t know what to say.

At the door, I take a deep breath before pushing it open. Raul is thin and pale in the bed. When he turns his gaze from the window to take me in, my heart stutters at the coldness I see there. Did he always look at me that way? With such indifference?

“You were in Bellerive?” he says.

“Yes. They didn’t know when you’d wake up. It made more sense to be there. Let Landon get back to some sense of normalcy.”

“Where is he?”

“Still in Bellerive.”

“You didn’t bring my son to see me? Does he even know I’m awake?”