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They exchanged a look of concern, but Daphne stepped aside and let me in. Ophelia made coffee in the kitchen and brought it out to the porch so we could sit in the pale light of the rising sun.
“Alright,” said Ophelia, narrowing her eyes at me. “Why are you here so early?”
I looked between them and soft warmth blossomed in my chest. God, I was so lucky to have them. Despite how Ophelia worried about me and despite how hard Daphne had been on me, I wouldn’t have wanted to be raised by anyone else.
I owed so much to them. Daphne had made me strong, she’d let me embrace my dark side. Ophelia had kept me gentle enough so someday I could be worthy of a woman like Clara.
“I’m getting married,” I said.
Their jaws fell open in unison. Ophelia groped blindly for her wife’s hand, gripping it until her knuckles paled.
“To who?” she squeaked.
“Clara,” I said.
The porch was mayhem for a good five minutes. Ophelia shot to her feet, wrapping her arms around my neck, crying into my chest. Daphne sat back with a smug expression on her face and sipped her coffee.
“I thought you might eventually,” she said.
Ophelia untangled herself from my arms and kissed my jaw. “I’m so happy, darling,” she said, wiping her face.
“There’s something else,” I said.
Last night, before I joined Clara in our bedroom, I’d called Caden again. He was reluctant to grant my second request, but after a solid thirty minutes of convincing, he’d agreed. I could finally tell my aunts about him, so long as they signed the NDA too. I knew they would so I agreed.
Daphne’s face sobered as she caught the look on my face. She leaned in, eyes narrowed.
“What is it?”
I shifted back and crossed one leg over the other. I had to clear my throat twice before I could speak.
“I have a son,” I said.
Ophelia gasped. “You mean…Clara’s pregnant?”
I shook my head. “No, I have an adult son. I met him over a decade ago.”
Their expressions changed as this information sank in, both sobering. Ophelia shifted in the bench beside me and sent me a long, calculating stare.
“And you hid this from us?” she whispered.
“You have no room to judge me for that,” I said firmly.
Her lips parted and then she shut them. There was a long, painful silence and Ophelia returned to sit beside her wife. They exchanged a quick glance.
“Who is your son?” Daphne asked gently.
“Caden,” I said, my ears starting to burn. The last thing I wanted was to discuss the fact that I’d gotten a girl pregnant when I was seventeen because I was too stupid to wear a condom.
“How…how old were you?” Daphne asked.
“Seventeen,” I said.
“Oh my,” Ophelia whispered. “Well…that’s disappointing.”
Daphne elbowed her in the ribs and she scowled.
“What?” she snapped. “He got someone pregnant when he was a teenager. Of course I’m disappointed.”
