Chapters (48)
- Cover
- Praise
- About the Author
- Also by Tricia Stringer
- Title Page
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
- Excerpt
- One
“Hell’s teeth, Natalie. I’ve told you Jack is not my son.”
“But how can you be sure?”
He rubbed his forehead, sighed and sat down again.
“I know he can’t possibly be because Veronica and I…” He sucked in a breath. “We never consummated what we started that night after the tennis carnival. I told you back then nothing actually happened. We’d both drunk too much, we were both feeling lonely. I know that sounds like excuses again but I faced up to what I did at the time. The fault was mine, not yours. There was nothing between Veronica and I except some groping in the dark, a clumsy kiss and then, before you’d even arrived that night, we’d sobered up and realised how stupid we’d both been.” He shook his head. “I hate that it’s caused you pain all over again, Nat, but you believed me then, why won’t you believe me now? There is no possible way Jack Halbot could be my son.”
Natalie saw his hurt, felt her own as she remembered that terrible time.
“Natalie?” He broke through her scrambled thoughts. “You do see Jack can’t be my son, don’t you?”
He was asking her to believe his story all over again. She’d done it once before. If it hadn’t been for the likeness she’d seen in Jack and Milt she’d still believe it. “He looks so like you.”
“He looks like Bob. Don’t you remember Bob’s fair curly hair…back when he had hair? And we have the same colour eyes. People who didn’t know Bob and I used to think we were brothers on the tennis court.” Milt shook his head. “Jack’s not my son, Nat. If it weren’t for the fact that it would raise questions we don’t want raised I’d do one of those DNA tests they talk about.”
Natalie thought about the time when tennis had been such a big part of their lives. Milt had been a star player for their local club but he’d given up the game he loved so they could avoid the Halbots. He’d done it to save their marriage. When Jack was born he’d been like a question mark for Natalie, niggling inside her, but by that time her relationship with Milt was healing. She didn’t want to open the wound again so she’d never raised Jack’s parentage. Now she had to believe what he was telling her if she was to save her marriage all over again.
She drew in a long, slow breath and made her decision. “I believe you.”
“Thank God.” He lurched across the space between them and gripped her hands.