chapter sixteen
Sydney heard the door slam and sat up. Eyes gritty from lack of sleep, her jeans and sweatshirt wrinkled and creased, she pushed away her knotted tangle of hair and held her breath.
She’d eventually fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him to return. Tears long dried up, her heart bruised and aching, she prayed there was some way to reach him and make him understand. She’d carried the guilt every single day, many times sick about her decision to keep Becca a secret. But she’d done the best she could, her only focus giving her daughter a stable, happy life.
When he didn’t come find her, she made her way into the kitchen and found him making coffee. Swallowing hard, she took a seat on a stool and waited for him to speak. Or yell. Or do something. Anything.
“I’ve made a decision.”
He flung the words at her like they were chips of ice, and she knew there would be no understanding or compromise. This was the Tristan from the past—ruthless in business, distant in relationships, analyzing each situation to further himself on the path of success to achieve what he wanted. She was now the enemy and would be treated as such.
Dread coiled in her gut. “Becca’s still sleeping,” she said evenly. “I’d like us to be able to be on the same page before she gets up. I don’t want her affected the morning after her birthday.” She tried to sound calm, but her nerve endings were raw. Her question came out in a ragged whisper. “Are you okay? I was—worried.”
He didn’t even glance back. Just continued making coffee. “No, but I will be. I’ve thought about our options here, and there’s only one way to give Becca what she needs and allow me to be the father I want to be.”
“I understand. I have no problem sharing custody, Tristan. I want her to be a part of your life moving forward and would never fight you on this. We just need to take some time to figure things out.”
The coffeepot began to brew merrily. He took a mug from the cabinet and lined it up neatly on the granite countertop. “Partial custody won’t be enough. Not to make up for the last seven years. I’ll have to be involved in her day-to-day schedule for us to get to know each other the way we both need.”
She blinked, tamping down the rising panic threatening to choke her. “Becca needs me. There’s no way you’re going to take her away from me.”
“I don’t intend to as long as you agree to the plan.”
Her mouth trembled, but she made herself speak. “What plan?”
He turned. Even mussed and wrinkled and dead tired, he retained an aura of competence and sexuality that reached across the room and grabbed her. Their connection had never been the problem between them. Unfortunately, now it made everything so much harder. His face was calmly set, with an implacable determination in his amber eyes that froze her in sheer fear.
“We’re going to get married.”
It took a few moments for his announcement to register. She figured she’d just heard wrong. “We’re going to what?”
“Get married. It’s the only way to ensure Becca gets the family and support she needs. It’s cruel to rip either one of us away at this point. This way it’s a win-win for her.”
The kitchen spun, and she grabbed on to the edge of the counter. “Tristan, you must be joking. Or drunk. Or delusional. You’re not thinking clearly about what you just proposed.”
“Oh, but I am.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, cocked his hip, and stared at her. The heat and tenderness were gone. In their place were an icy resolution and faint distaste for his proposal. “We’re going to face Becca and give her the happy news. I’ll let you tell her how and why any way you wish, as long as the bottom line is we’ll be getting married and completing our family.”
Anger snapped up from her core, and she lowered her voice to a furious whisper. “We are not about to tell my daughter anything today. This is a delicate situation, and she needs to be thought of first. We need to plan when and how we’ll tell her, and I’m open to feedback. But nothing will be happening right now. Things are too raw. We’re not ready, and neither is she.”
“Oh, I’m ready.” She flinched at the cutting edge of his voice. “I don’t intend to wait another year to be with my daughter. And we will get married, Syd. That’s the only solution to this.”
“You’re not thinking clearly! It’ll never work. She’ll know we’re miserable and unhappy and lying about our relationship. Kids can sense that. She’ll only be more confused!”
“Not if we commit to giving her what she deserves. A real marriage. We both focus on creating a stable, happy home life. We’re not strangers. It’s worth the sacrifice for Becca.”
She wondered if she’d just dropped into an alternate universe where arranged marriages were the norm. The idea of living with this man on a daily basis was impossible. Sleeping with him. Eating breakfast. Wearing old pajamas while she watched television. Those were the types of activities you did with a man you trusted and loved. There was no way they could pretend on such a scale. She’d go mental. She’d become . . . broken.
“It won’t work,” she repeated again. “We can’t live together, Tristan. That type of give-and-take in a marriage, raising a child, isn’t something you can just fake.”
“I don’t intend anything to be fake.” He narrowed his gaze. “We’ll mean every word of those vows we share. I intend to be faithful, show you respect, protect you and Becca, and provide a secure, nurturing environment. And you will do the same.”
She had a crazy urge to laugh at the ridiculousness, but knowing he was dead serious stole away all humor. Oh, God, she couldn’t do this. He stated his intentions like a Boy Scout or military person serving his country. Not like a husband, or a man who wanted to spend his life with a woman he loved.
Because he didn’t love her.
Not anymore.
Maybe not ever. He’d never been able to say the words, no matter how intimate their time was together.
“You can’t just bully me into a marriage. Listen, we don’t need to rush into anything. We’ll talk and decide the right time to tell Becca. Couples deal with two-parent households all the time, and Becca will understand. You can have plenty of time with her—pick her up from school, take her for sleepovers, a weekend getaway. Anything you need.”
“What I need is to be with her every single day.” The implacable determination carved out in his features told her he wouldn’t change his mind. “I need to make up for what was taken away from me. And you will marry me, Sydney. One way or another.”
“You have no right,” she breathed in horror.
“Oh, but I do. You lost all your rights the moment you played God and kept me from making my own choice.” A flick of temper leaked through the armor, but it was quickly brought under control. “You don’t get to say no to this.”
“And if I do?”
He poured his cup of coffee, lifted it to his lips, and took a lingering sip. “I take Becca from you. I hire the best legal team imaginable and make your life a living hell. I let the court decide who’ll be the better parent. How does that sound?”
Her teeth rattled together like a poor imitation of a skeleton. If she hadn’t been sitting, she would’ve sunk to the floor, boneless with fear. He wasn’t making idle threats. Tristan never did. No, he was ruthless when he came to a decision, whether it be leaving for New York, walking away from a deal, or doling out punishment to those who wronged him. This was a man who trusted with his whole soul, but once betrayed, he locked the door and threw away the key.
She’d lost him forever.
The pain of such a loss was still secondary to the idea Becca could be dragged through a custody suit. Nothing was worth that.
Not even living in a sham of a marriage with a man she still loved.
“You would do that?” she asked quietly. “Even if it would tear Becca apart?”
His jaw clenched. His eyes were flat and devoid of all emotion.
“Yes.”
She shuddered, wrapping her arms tight around her body. He’d do it. He wouldn’t want to hurt Becca, but he was desperate. Betrayed. Savage. The worst was the empty vastness between them, reminding her the man she’d fallen for was no longer here. The one who’d taken his place was ruthless. “Don’t do this to us,” she whispered. “You’ll destroy everything.”
“You already did.” He set his coffee down. “I want to hear you say the words. Say you agree.”
“If you do this, you’ll be giving up the opportunity to marry for love. Do you really want to wake up one day and feel trapped by your decision? Feel as if you missed out on an unknown future because of responsibility? You don’t need to do this. We can work it out some other way if you give it a chance.”
Her final plea lay between them. A part deep inside of her fantasized he’d admit he did love her. If he gave her the tiniest indication there was a real chance for them, she’d marry him without question. But to be trapped with someone who’d never love you back? It would be the worst nightmare imaginable.
His gaze flicked over her with dismissive ease. “Love is overrated. I think a marriage based on shared commitment to the greater good is what this world is lacking. There will be no regrets on my part.”
“And me? You’re blackmailing me as punishment. How can our relationship stand a chance with such a start? Don’t you want more for us?”
His words were as robotic as his tone. “No. This is all we have left.”
Her heart fragmented into tiny pieces. She rocked back and forth, searching for any loophole or offer she could beg him to accept. And came back to the same shattering conclusion.
She was going to have to marry him and forfeit her very soul.
“Say you agree,” he said again.
No. She wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t hold both of them and Becca hostage in a marriage that could never be real, at least on his end. She grabbed on to her own frustration and anger, confronting him with clenched fists. “How dare you think you control this relationship or my daughter?” she ripped out, keeping her voice low. “Deny it all you want—you couldn’t have handled the truth back then. You left without speaking to me for three months, then showed up expecting me to drop everything because you decided you missed me? And when you heard about the baby, you never once wondered at the timing? How dare you judge me? You barely looked at us for two years, and I was supposed to tell you about her?”
“Yes! Because I’m her real father!” he shouted. “Becca is mine!”
“You’re my dad?”
Sydney gasped and whipped around. Her daughter stood framed in the doorway, dressed in pink Hello Kitty pajamas, hair springing wildly around her head, those sleepy eyes huge as she stared at both of them, blinking furiously. Sydney clapped a hand over her mouth, swallowing her cry.
A shocked silence filled the kitchen. The room spun, tilted, then steadied. Dear God, how much had she overheard? What had they done?”
Sydney walked over, dropping to her knees and grasping Becca’s hands in a tight grip. “Baby, I’m so sorry we were yelling. What did you hear?”
“Just what Tristan said. That he’s my dad. Is it true?”
Her body shook as if feverish. Her lungs barely squeezed breath out, throwing her into a panic. She realized this was a moment she’d planned for Becca’s whole life. Yet this wasn’t the way she wanted her daughter to find out the truth. Fear choked her, but she pushed it aside and swore she’d do whatever possible to make it right. To make sure Becca wasn’t scarred from finding out this way. “Becca, look at me.”
Her daughter gazed into her eyes.
“I love you. I love you more than you’ll ever imagine. Do you believe me?”
“Of course. Mommies always love their children more than anything else.”
She blinked back the sting of tears. “That’s right. You may get mad at me for not telling you the truth sooner about your dad. And the reason I didn’t want to tell you was because you were too little to really understand. There was a lot of grown-up stuff going on.”
She paused, glancing at Tristan to make sure he was ready. That he’d support what she was about to tell her daughter.
His face. Oh, God, his face was full of the divine as he stared at Becca, drinking in her presence as if she were water to his parched soul. Eyes lit with gentleness and pure love, as if he still couldn’t believe she was part of him.
And then she knew it had to be done. Tristan deserved to be a father to Becca. She’d taken that from him, and it was time to reunite them, no matter how difficult it was going to be. She couldn’t lie to her daughter to buy more time.
“Grown-up stuff about my dad?” Becca asked.
“Yes, baby. There’s something you didn’t know because I didn’t tell you. You actually have two dads. Your first dad was here for a little while. He married Mama, but then he had to go far away for work.”
“I know. That’s why I never see him.”
“That’s right. But you have a second dad. Your real dad. And the only reason he didn’t come back to see you is Mommy never told him he was your real dad.”
Becca frowned. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t you tell him he was my dad?”
Sydney gathered up her courage and took the leap. “Because we had a big fight before you were born, and I didn’t think he wanted to be a dad. But I was wrong, Becca. He did want to be your dad, and I made a mistake.”
She ached to snatch her daughter and wrap her arms around her body. But she remained still, knowing Becca needed to process this information in her own way.
“So my real dad never came to see me because he didn’t know?”
Sydney spoke past the lump in her throat. “That’s right.”
“He knows about me now, and he wants me?” she whispered.
This time, tears filled her eyes, and she couldn’t fight them off. “Yes, baby. He wants you so badly. He never wants to leave you again.”
Those beautiful green eyes filled with such hope Sydney’s heart shattered. She gazed at Tristan. “Is it you?” she whispered.
Tristan crossed the room and dropped to his knees in front of Becca. Slowly he reached out a trembling hand and cupped Becca’s cheek. His voice was full of gravel and broken yearning as he spoke the words that changed everything.
“Yes, Becca, it’s me. I’m your father. And I want you more than anything in the whole world.”
The room was drenched in silence. No one moved, or breathed, as father and daughter gazed upon each other for the first time.
And then with a cry, Becca launched herself into his arms, clinging to him and crying, and Tristan held her like the most precious, treasured gift in the world.
Sydney watched them hold each other, the past and present merged in a moment of time that broke her completely and healed her in one perfect twist.
He sat with his daughter curled in his arms, the coconut scent of her shampoo drifting to his nostrils. They hadn’t wanted to leave each other’s presence, so he answered her endless questions as best he could, with Sydney running interference, perched on the edge of the sofa.
He studied her small, graceful hands, marveling at how little they were wrapped in his, her nails topped with pink glitter polish. He’d expected anger or resentment. He’d prepped for her reserve and distrust, struggling to understand why he’d suddenly shown up seven years later with an intention to become part of her life.
Instead, she’d humbled him with her open joy and affection, allowing him to steep himself in her presence and accepting him fully. He couldn’t have timed it more perfectly when Becca asked if they were going to get married now that they weren’t mad at each other anymore.
He’d immediately told her yes, cutting off any denials Sydney tried to scrape up.
Becca had squealed in excitement, sealing their fate. He spun a romantic tale to make things easier, painting an image of star-crossed lovers from a Disney movie, reuniting years later to get married and live happily ever after.
At least, Tristan could offer the marriage part.
Sydney took it all in with a forced smile on her face, but he saw the deep-seated panic beneath the surface. Things had gotten real. Becca had accepted him and was excited about them becoming a real family. Now it was time to move forward with the plan and make things legal.
Sydney seemed to sense his determination and cleared her throat. “Becca, I know this is going fast, and it could be really confusing. Tristan and I don’t have to get married right away. We could wait and take things slow. You’re never going to lose him again, sweetheart.”
Tristan waited for Becca’s answer. If his daughter communicated confusion, he’d back off. There was no way he’d do anything to upset her.
“No! I’m so excited! I want Dad to live with us right away,” Becca stated. “Can I be the flower girl? Can we get a dog?”
He burst into laughter. He would’ve bought her a damn puppy right away if he’d known how easy pet bribery was with kids. “Your mom and I will talk about it and let you know about the dog. And I’d say you’ll be the main star at the wedding, so yes, you can be the flower girl.”
“So cool. Mama, can I tell Lyndsey and Callie? It’s not a secret any longer, right? I can tell everyone that we found my real dad and you’re getting married and it’s like a true happily ever after?”
Sydney paled, but her lips curved in a smile. “Of course, honey. We want you to be as happy as we are.”
“And can we live in the mansion? Please?”
“No, I don’t think—”
“I think that’s a great idea,” he interrupted. “Uncle Cal and Uncle Dalton have already left, and we don’t want to sell the place. Would you like to live here, Becca?”
Sydney cleared her throat. “No, we—”
“Yes! Oh, yes, yes, I love it here so much! This is the best day of my whole life!”
Tristan grinned and hugged her. It made perfect sense to move into his family home. It was her legacy and big enough for them to get as many dogs as she wanted.
“I’ll be right back,” Sydney said, practically stumbling out of the room in her haste to leave. He frowned, but Becca didn’t catch on to her mother’s distress. She was too busy spinning daydreams of decorating her bedroom and filling the place with puppies.
With one last hard hug, he lifted her up off his lap. “Let’s get some breakfast. I think we promised you some bacon.”
It didn’t take him long to fry up some eggs and bacon. He poured her a cup of orange juice and refilled his coffee mug, noticing Sydney still hadn’t returned. When Becca’s plate was clean, he gave her a smile. “Wanna watch some TV while your mom gets cleaned up?”
“Yes. Are you coming home with us today? Or tomorrow?”
He caught the worried glint in her eyes and leaned over the counter so their gazes met. “Becca, I’m not going away ever again,” he said quietly. “I intend to marry your mom, and we’re going to be a family. We have a lot of time to make up for, so you’re gonna end up getting really sick of me.”
She smiled back and her small shoulders relaxed. “Okay. Can I watch SpongeBob?”
He made a note to study all relevant children’s shows for the future, then nodded. “Absolutely. I’ll set it up and we’ll decide what we’re going to do today.”
When she was happily settled watching a strange yellow sponge go on adventures, he headed to the bathroom and tapped on the door.
“Be right out.” Her voice was happy, yet strained.
“Syd, open the door. It’s me.”
He waited a few moments before the door swung open. Her face was a bit swollen and her eyes were red. He caught the evidence and tried to push the need to hold her aside. If he broke now, he’d be setting up the rules of their relationship. He swore he’d treat her well, but he was done offering up his bruised heart for her to slice and dice. He’d never trust her with that part of his anatomy again, and he needed to build some decent brick walls before he put a damn ring on her finger. He refused to be a chump in the name of love again unless it was for Becca. He’d give all his affection to his daughter, who was safe.
“I fed Becca breakfast and she’s watching TV. Want to talk?”
She nodded, and he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. The bathroom was really a majestic powder room decorated in black raspberry and rich silver. It boasted a mini chandelier, a makeup counter with padded stools, and tapestried walls in textured velvet.
She leaned against the porcelain counter, her image reflected in the dual mirrors. He stood a few feet away from her, needing the distance. “I think it went well. Better than I could have imagined, especially since we didn’t plan on telling her right away. What about you?”
Pushing her hair back from her face, she lifted her gaze. He stared into haunted, jade-green eyes. “Me? After my panic, I realized I’ve never seen my daughter look like that before. Like Christmas and birthdays all rolled up into one. Like she was finally . . . complete.”
“You don’t seem happy about it,” he said quietly. “Did you want her to reject me?”
She gasped. “No! Oh, God, Tristan, no. The way you looked at each other? I’ll never forget it. But this thing between you and me is too much. I can’t just move in with you and plan a wedding in record time. Maybe we should let things settle before moving forward.”
“No. All Becca needs to know is we want to be together as quickly as possible. And I want her to have my name. She’s a Pierce, and our marriage will make that official. The wedding will be simple, just family. I think it’s important she’s involved and a part of it. We can get married next Saturday, and I’ll set up everything to get you moved in.”
She shook her head, fists digging into her temples. “Stop it! You’re doing it again. Moving forward with plans without even consulting me. I am not getting married a week from now during one of the biggest jobs I’ve ever headed, and I happen to like my house. I don’t want to move here. It doesn’t belong to me.”
He grasped for patience and kept his tone even. “I know it’s moving fast, but we have no choice. Do you really want to stretch out a long engagement? It’s a small town. There’ll already be gossip—dragging this relationship out too long will hurt Becca. I also refuse to move in with you before we’re married.”
A small groan of distress escaped her lips. “I didn’t think about the gossip,” she said in a small voice. “Damn small towns for their nosiness.”
“It’s bound to happen. The quicker we get married, the faster talk will die down. As for the mansion, it just makes sense. I don’t want to bully you, but it is Becca’s heritage and has tons of space. I know it’s a bit stuffy for you, so you can change anything you want. Hire a designer or do it yourself—it doesn’t matter to me.”
“It was your mother’s house, and I loved her. I don’t want to take away any of her memories.”
He quickly hardened his heart against the surge of tenderness. Knowing how much Sydney respected his mother’s space touched him, but he kept his face impassive. “She hated the formality of the house, but my father insisted it be a model for our work. I think she’d love you putting your own sense of design into these rooms. You both had similar taste.”
She nodded, but she looked like the shock had begun to hit her. Tristan knew the best course of action was to forge ahead like in a battle, refusing to let her think about things too long. The quicker he made plans and shot down her objections, the quicker he’d be living with his daughter full-time.
“How can we hold a wedding before Morgan’s? This is crazy. I refuse to take the spotlight off her. She’s worked so hard to make her wedding perfect.”
“Morgan will understand. Our wedding won’t compete. We’ll get married here at the house and have a small reception with just family. Simple and tasteful. No big party or church needed. There’s no reason we can’t have it on Saturday. I can contact everyone. If you want a planner, we can hire one.”
She chewed at her lip. “No, there’s no need. I can have it catered by the Italian deli here in town.”
“I think Raven may want to do it.”
“I don’t want her to be working. She’s family.”
“Fine. I’ll leave the details to you, but if there’s any issues, let me know. I can cover you at the site for an afternoon if you want to take Becca dress shopping.”
He tamped down on his annoyance at the green tint to her skin. Was marrying him so horrific to her? She’d married another man who was practically a stranger rather than tell him the truth. Had she really believed he wouldn’t have wanted the baby?
He pushed aside the disturbing thought. “Let’s make sure Becca knows we’re excited about this new life we’re about to embark on. There’s no reason to let her sense any stress.”
Her chin snapped up. “I know how to take care of my daughter,” she practically growled.
He took a step toward her and ate up her space. Lowering his head, he studied her rapidly panting breath, parted lips, and big green eyes. Already he felt his dick harden and the overwhelming need to back her against that wall and punish her by using that sweet body until he’d wrung out all his frustration and anger. But that would open up the path that led to emotion and a deeper feeling he couldn’t seem to fight around her.
He was done.
He’d marry her. He’d treat her like a wife. He’d eventually fuck her.
But he’d never let his heart open to her again.
“She’s my daughter, too,” he ground out. “You’re not running the show any longer. Any decision regarding Becca will involve me, whether you like it or not.”
Furious tears stung her eyes. “Why are you being so ruthless? So cold? It doesn’t have to be like this.”
He drew back, retreating behind the familiar wall of ice. “You did this to both of us with your lies. This is the only way it can be.”
She rose on tiptoes, jabbing her index finger at his chest. “Back off. I’ll agree to marry you for Becca’s sake, but don’t you dare take a righteous attitude with me. I’ve been protecting her since day one, and you never gave me any reason to trust you with the truth. Not the way you treated me.”
He growled, reaching for her, but she spun out of his grip. “You’d better rethink your interpretation of the past. Is that how you lived with yourself these past seven years?”
“If you keep acting like a coldhearted bastard, I’ll take my chances on a legal battle rather than marrying you. Think about that.”
He didn’t have time to answer.
She marched off without a glance back, leaving him alone in an empty bathroom.