Page 22 of The Malibu Secret

Because I’ve been only thinking about myself. That’s the ugly truth. I’ve been utterly selfish. Yes, I’m scared: scared Cameron will feel trapped and resent me down the road; scared he’ll try to control my life and the baby’s; scared that I’ll love someone who ultimately might not want to stay. But showing that kind of vulnerability? That’s something I’ve never been good at.

I blow out a long breath. "Fine. I'll tell him." Dammit. But Olivia's right—a secret this nuclear has a half-life of about five minutes. Better to detonate it myself than wait for fallout.

Celeste's face softens. "Tal," she says, leaning forward. "Why wouldn't you tell him? What's really going on?"

I fidget with my tattoo sleeve, tracing the outline of the phoenix on my forearm. "Pick your poison. But mostly? I'm terrified of disappearing into his life. I've always done whatever the hell I want, whenever I want. No compromises, no explanations, no apologies. My life, my rules." I swallow hard. "I know the kid's already gonna change that. But him too? That's...a lot of people having opinions about my choices." I inhale deeply, my chest tight.

Celeste leans back in her chair. "Welcome to adulthood, Tally. When you let someone into your life, you have to consider their needs too. It's actually not the worst thing."

I stare at my glass of sparkling water, wishing it was tequila. “Growing up, I learned to count on exactly one person—me. Nobody else ever showed up when it mattered." I pause, looking at my scarlet nail polish. "Changing that mindset won’t happen overnight, but I'm trying." I take a deep breath. "And now there's my mother to deal with."

“Right,” Celeste says. “You’ve told us about her staying with you. How is she? I mean, we know you’ve always worried about-”

She doesn't need to finish that sentence. Every time my phone rang after midnight, my stomach would drop like I'm on a roller coaster—wondering if this is finally it, if some cop found her body dumped somewhere or if she OD'd in some stranger's apartment. Having her under my roof means I can at least sleep through the night without being terrified about getting that phone call.

I nod. “Remember all those years of pills and loser boyfriends? Turns out there was something underneath it all—bi-polar disorder. When she finally got clean and was still seeing things that weren't there, they ran tests. The genetic markers confirmed what her symptoms were showing. It's not a hundred percent certain, but the doctors are pretty convinced." I shrug. “They prescribed medicine for treatment of bi-polar disorder, and she has responded so well.”

Olivia's eyes go wide. "Oh my God, tell me everything! This is huge, Tally!”

I nod. "Yeah, well, she's no June Cleaver, but she's still my mom. Back before the pills, before Dad got killed in Iraq, she was actually pretty amazing." I swallow hard. "The doctor explained that losing Dad probably triggered her bi-polar disorder, and she started self-medicating to silence the voices. That's their theory, anyway."

"What about this treatment?" Celeste asks, leaning forward.

“Lithium and Abilify." My voice catches. "It's like someone flipped a switch and gave me back my mom. She knows she put me through hell, and she's trying to make up for it. Comes to all my prenatal appointments, brings me ginger tea when I'm puking my guts out. She's actually acting like a grandmother-to-be. And there's talk about her playing piano again."

Celeste squeezes my hand. "That would be incredible. I know what those memories mean to you."

"Fuck yeah, it would be." I blink back tears. "Sitting next to her on that bench, watching her hands fly across the keys—those were the only good parts of my childhood before everything went to shit. But I'm not counting on it. Hope is just disappointment waiting to happen."

Celeste’s eyes light up. “I’ve got an idea, Tally! Hear me out—Cameron’s got, what, nine more months in Sicily? You need to tell him in person.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure—let me just win the lottery tomorrow so I can fly to Sicily on a whim. I’ve got a tattoo studio to run, and I’m not made of money like your husband.”

Celeste lays her hand over mine. “Exactly why you should take Max’s plane. Surprise Cameron. You can’t just drop ‘we’re having a baby’ over FaceTime.”

“That’s just it—I already told him I’m pregnant. I panicked and blurted out that I’d had a one-night stand, got wasted, and woke up pregnant. I know—it’s not my finest hour, telling some bullshit like that. But I couldn’t keep the pregnancy from him. The grapevine runs too deep with you, Max, and the whole Kensington clan.”

Celeste giggles.

“What’s so damn funny?”

“You, thinking you’d get away with lying about the baby’s father.”

“Why wouldn’t it work?”

“Have you seen the Kensingtons? They all look like clones. Even the dad. My husband’s got green eyes, Roman’s are dark, the others shades of green, blue, hazel—but line them up and it’s obvious they’re kin. Genetics in that family are bullet-proof. Your baby will look like a Kensington, guaranteed. She’ll be beautiful, with you as her mom and Cameron as her dad—but she’ll have that family face. You’d never fool anyone.”

Touché. She’s got a point. Some families have wildly different kids. Definitely not the Kensingtons. Jesus. You'd need sunglasses just to look at the whole pack of them together—like someone cloned a Calvin Klein billboard eight times over. Same thick hair you want to run your fingers through, same jaw you could open a beer bottle on, same cheekbones that could slice bread. Tall as redwoods, every last one. The kind of men who make you forget your own name when they look at you. Even their old man's still got it. So, yeah, it’s true that they all look alike, so the genetics are strong and my kid will probably come out as a clone, too. Same as Celeste’s kid, Violet - she’s definitely a Kensington. Unmistakably a Kensington. Brinley will probably be the same.

“I fucking panicked,” I snap, voice raw. “I didn’t know what else to say.”

“Alright,” Celeste says, tone clipped. “So Cameron knows you’re pregnant. You still need to look him in the eye and tell him he’s the father.”

I grit my teeth. “Looks like Blade’s stuck at Manic Muse a bit longer.”

“Blade? Who’s Blade?”

“The agency’s temp tattoo guy. Ever since the accident, I’ve been drowning in clients and Maya’s been a no-show half the time. I don’t know what drama she’s spinning, but she’s called in sick more than she’s shown up. I’d fire her ass yesterday if she wasn’t so goddamned talented and she knows that her talent is the only thing keeping her around.” I run a hand through my hair. “But yeah—you’re right. Cameron deserves the face-to-face.”