I’m lucky to be sitting down. If I wasn’t, I would have keeled right over.
I came in here to confess about Reed and Brooke, but Callum, the man I thought was oblivious, already knew that his son slept with his girlfriend?
I must be revealing something on my face, because his blue eyes sharpen. “You knew,” he says thoughtfully.
I give a shaky nod. It takes a moment to find my voice. “You knew?”
A humorless chuckle leaves his lips. “When Brooke came to me with the news she was pregnant, I said the same thing you just did. That she could have the baby and I would support her. That’s when she told me she slept with Reed and that the baby could be his.”
Nausea tickles my throat. “Wh-when did she say it happened? Her and Reed…?”
Reed promised me that he hasn’t touched Brooke since he kissed me, but he’s never been specific about when they stopped sleeping together. And I haven’t been brave or stupid enough to push for details.
Callum drains the rest of his glass and stands up to pour himself another. “Before you came, I assume. I know Reed. He wouldn’t have laid a hand on you if he was still with Brooke.”
My hand flies to my throat. “You know about us?”
“I’m not entirely blind, Ella, and you two aren’t terribly careful. I thought…it might be good for both of you. Reed being with someone his own age and you having someone special in your life. I didn’t know before you ran,” he concedes. “But I figured it out after.”
“Why didn’t you figure out what Brooke was up to? Why didn’t you protect your son from her?”
My accusatory tone brings a cloud of anger to his eyes. “I’m protecting him now! You think I want my boy to be tied to her for the rest of his life? Better that I raise this baby as my own and let Reed live the life he deserves.”
“There’s no way it’s his, Callum. The last time he was with her was six months ago, and she’s not six months pregnant.”
Unless Reed lied to me about what happened in his bedroom last month…
But no. No. I refuse to believe it. I gave him another chance because I trust him. If he says he didn’t touch her that night, then he didn’t touch her.
Callum looks at me as if I’m a child, a foolish, stupid child. “It has to be his, Ella.”
“How do you know it’s not yours?” I challenge.
He smiles sadly. “I had a vasectomy fifteen years ago.”
I swallow hard. “Oh.”
“Maria desperately wanted a girl,” Callum confesses. “We kept trying, but after she had the twins, her doctor told her no more. That another pregnancy might kill her. She refused to accept it, so…I got a vasectomy and never told her about it.” He shakes his head in misery. “I can’t be the father of Brooke’s baby, but I can take responsibility for the child. If Reed is dragged into this, there’ll be a bond between him and Brooke forever, a bond of guilt and grief and responsibility. I won’t let that happen. My son might hate me enough to make a play for my girlfriend, but I love him enough to spare him a life of misery.”
“How far along is she?” I ask.
“Three and a half months.”
I curl my fists in frustration, wanting somehow to get it through Callum’s brain that the assumptions he’s made are wrong. “I believe Reed when he says he hasn’t touched her in six months.”
Callum just stares at me.
“I believe him,” I insist. “And I wish you would, too. Just because you wouldn’t cheat on Maria, and Reed wouldn’t cheat on me, doesn’t mean that Brooke’s the same way.”
“Brooke wants to be a Royal too badly to take that chance. I caught her sabotaging her birth control once.”
I rub my face in my hands, because he’s clearly made his mind up. “You can believe what you want, but you’re wrong.” I rise from my chair, shoulders slumped in defeat. At the door, I stop and give one last try. “Reed wants you to get a paternity test. He’d force it on Brooke if he could.”
Callum looks startled. “He’d take the test and risk being officially named the father?”
“No, he’d take the test so the truth could come out.” I meet his eyes. “She’s lying to you. It’s not Reed’s kid, and if you trust your son even the slightest bit, you would force Brooke’s hand and make this whole stupid mess go away.”
I start to leave, but Callum holds up his hand. “Wait.”
Frowning, I watch as he reaches for the handset and dials a number. Whoever he calls picks up right away.
“Dottie,” he booms into the mouthpiece. “When you get in the office this morning, make an appointment for Ms. Davidson at the Bayview OBGYN for Friday, nine a.m. sharp. And send a car for her.”
A smile spreads across my face. Maybe I did get through to him.
Callum hangs up and fixes me with a worried look. Then he sighs and says, “I hope to hell you’re right about this, Ella.”
32
Reed