Page 11 of 10 Signs You Need to Grovel

It rings once, and my thudding heart shoves into my throat.

The second ring has my lungs swelling so fast I’m sure they’ll burst.

The third ring—

“Hello?”

At the sound of Sadie’s voice, something in me does burst. I think it’s my brain, the part responsible for speech. I make a garbled sound, like my courtroom nightmares have actualized, and I can only mumble unintelligent nonsense.

Planting my elbows on my knees, I clear my throat. “Hi, Sadie. It’s . . .” Daniel, I almost say. The name I still use. But nothing’s the same anymore. “It’s Desmond.”

Her breath catches. “Des? Oh my God. Is it really you?”

My stomach drops to my feet. Then plummets through the earth’s crust. I somehow move my hand and massage my brow. “Yeah, honey. It’s me.”

I wince at the endearment. I have no right to call her honey. At least I didn’t slip and call her Sprite. That nickname’s too us. Too fun loving and cute. “I’m kind of freaking out here. I can’t believe . . .” That I’m hearing her ethereal voice again. That we have a son.

The words dry up on my tongue.

“I know. God, I know. When I heard about your dad’s book and put two and two together—Des, what you’ve been through. I was so mad for so long. Now . . .” She doesn’t finish either. There’s too much that’s too hard to say. Eleven years of hurt and confusion.

I swallow past the razor blades in my throat. “How is he? Our . . . son. Is he okay? Happy and healthy?” I keep asking everyone the same damn questions, struggling to believe each reassuring reply.

“Tries my patience like you did.” A watery laugh slips through the line. “And he’s kind of going through a rough patch with friends and finding his confidence, but he’s great. He’s my everything.” Her voice catches but also softens with fondness.

Relief should have me smiling. A portion of my ruptured heart should regenerate. Instead, it feels as though something’s crushing my windpipe. The extent of what I’ve missed is staggering—Max learning to talk, walk, make friends, fight with those friends. Max hurting, crying, laughing. I wouldn’t even recognize him if I saw him on the street. “I’m so sorry, Sadie. For everything. If I’d known . . .”

What? What would I have done? Risked her and our child just to be together?

I bite my cheek, blink to clear the sting from my eyes, because my tear ducts have suddenly become Niagara fucking Falls.

“Getting pregnant was a shock to me at the time too,” she says softly. “I mean, it was the pill. I was never good at taking it on time. I just never expected that surprise.”

Silence descends. She breathes quietly in my ear. I focus on the grass, brush my boot over the spiky blades, my stomach spinning from the mere sounds of her muffled breaths.

“We just moved back to Windfall,” she finally says. “I missed it so much, and it makes sense with E here, finally having family close, although we haven’t seen him since we got back. Things have been so busy. And I tried to wait, not introduce Max to your family before he met you, but finding you took so long.”

She’s probably busy because she’s married or in a relationship, doing her best to navigate that guy’s feelings while bringing my family into Max’s life. Sadie is smart, fun, creative, gorgeous. A woman like her doesn’t stay single for eleven years.

I jam my elbow into the bench back, mumble “Fuck” under my breath.

“What’s that?” she asks.

“Nothing.” Just me being too chickenshit to ask if she’s single, and I’m focusing on the wrong thing again. Me. My selfish desire to have a second chance with Sadie, when our son is who needs my focus. “I have some stuff to deal with here before I come, but I want to meet him as soon as possible.”

“Actually . . .” A different hesitation tinges her voice. A hint of reservation? “Is it okay if you and I meet first, without Max?”

“Of course. Whatever you think is best.” But apprehension simmers in my gut. “Are you worried about how he’ll react?”

“Sort of. Like I said, he’s going through a tough time with his friends and his confidence. He’s very reserved with your family and has been off lately. He’s had a lot of change in his life recently, and I want to find a way to ease him into this.”

A stab of helplessness slices through me. Worry for the son I don’t even know, but I’m flying blind here. “If you think that’s best, sure. We’ll figure this out together.”

“Thanks,” she says softly. “And, Des?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s so great to hear your voice.”