He looked directly at me.
My pulse quickened.
“Ryan?”
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
“You have five minutes.”
I frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
“Five minutes.”
He glanced toward the kitchen.
“To tell Iris the truth.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“What truth?”
He held my gaze.
“The one you’ve kept from her for eighteen years.”
My knees nearly gave out.
Impossible.
How could he know?
Eighteen years earlier, I’d made a decision I believed would protect my daughter forever.
Back then, I was twenty-one.
Scared.
Alone.
The father of my unborn child wasn’t a cruel man.
In fact…
He’d loved me.
Desperately.
But his family hated me.
They were wealthy.
Influential.
Powerful.
When they discovered I was pregnant, they offered me money to disappear.
I refused.
Then they threatened to take the baby.
Young.
Terrified.
With no lawyer and no family to help me, I ran.
I changed cities.
Changed jobs.
Changed everything.
Before leaving, I wrote him a letter.
I never received a reply.
Years later, I convinced myself he’d simply moved on.
So had I.
Or at least I pretended to.
Ryan broke the silence.
“My father found the letters.”
“What?”
“The letters you wrote.”