herself to hope after so many years. âYou know what happened to Ryan?â
That had been his name at birth: Ryan Alexander Loehr. The fact that he had the exact same middle name and that all three of his first namesâhis birth name, current name, and celestial name, Reyâazielâstarted with an R had boggled my mind since I first learned of it.
I looked over my shoulder toward the convent, the roof barely visible from my vantage. While no one had noticed my absence yet, it wouldnât be much longer before they did. I turned back. Mr. Loehr. He had dark hair and brown eyes, which could explain away Reyesâs coloring, because he got none of his features from his birth parents. I could only assume he actually did look like Lucifer. He was certainly handsome enough. But I had to stave them off. Even for just a little while.
âLet me start by saying I am married to the man I believe to be your son.â
Mrs. Loehr covered her mouth with a small hand, her eyes glistening already.
âIf you will go back to Albuquerque, I promise I will get in touch with you. This is something Iâm going to have to break to Reyes slowly.â
âReyes?â she said, her voice soft. âHis name is Reyes?â
I didnât give his last name. I didnât want them Googling their son and discovering anything before I had a chance to explain.
âWill you please trust me and not call the FBI until I can tell my husband what Iâve done?â
âYou wrote the letter,â Mr. Loehr said.
âI did.â I placed my hands on my belly. âI wanted you to know that your son was alive and well. That he was beautiful and wonderful and the most amazing person Iâve ever met.â
âI donât understand,â Mrs. Loehr said. âWhy didnât he contact us? Why havenât you told him you found us?â
I closed my eyes and lowered my head. âHe was violently against my contacting you.â
My statement hurt her. I could feel a sharp pang pulse through her.
âNot for the reasons you might think.â
âThen why?â she asked.
âBecause he feels he no longer deserves you.â
âWhat?â Her face showed her astonishment.
I took her hand in mine. âIâm not going to lie to you. Heâs had a hard life. A very hard life.â
She pressed her mouth together to keep from sobbing.
âHe doesnât want you to know what heâs gone through. He doesnât want you to feel any more guilt than you already must.â
She covered her mouth again as Mr. Loehr wrapped an arm over her shoulders.
âPlease believe me, he is not going to be happy when he finds out I contacted you.â
âWill you be okay?â
âYes. He wonât do anything drastic. He might, I donât know, storm out or something else guys like to do, but thatâs about it. He dotes on me.â
âCan we justâ?â Mr. Loehr began, but his voice cracked with the weight of emotion roaring through him. It took my breath away.
âCan we just see a picture of him?â Mrs. Loehr said.
âOf course.â I brought up my photos on my cell, scrolled through until I found a shot that wasnât of him half naked, and handed it to them.
They gasped. Both of them.
In the picture Iâd chosen, he was wearing a nice button-down. It was casual but nice. Really, really, really nice. Hell, they all were.
Mrs. Loehr touched the screen in disbelief. âHe looks like your uncle Sal.â
âHe looks more like my great-grandfather.â
Maybe there really was a family resemblance. Once we got to the point where I could talk to them in public without risking my marriage, Iâd insist on full access to the family albums.
âHeâs beautiful,â she said, her voice forlorn.
âThatâs what I keep telling him,â I said, completely serious.
Mrs. Loehr smiled sadly. âWhen? When can we
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