The salvos hit the mark. Rae flinched as if his words had struck her like a physical blow. When her expression nearly crumbled, self-loathing coursed through him. He was responding from a place of pain, like a defensive child.
Like a fool.
But he’d forgotten Rae’s inner strength, the emotional reserves she brought to bear in times of crisis. Rallying, she dodged his questions to pose one of her own.
“Was this a form of payback?” she asked. “Use my daughter to hurt me? Great job, Griffin. It worked.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I broke your heart, and you’ve been waiting to return the favor. I never explained, when I ended our relationship.”
“No, you didn’t. You wouldn’t take my calls. You avoided me at school.” When she left the graduation ceremony, he’d spent the day in a stunned malaise.
“And those unanswered questions have festered inside you ever since. What do you want from me—an apology? You’re pathetic. Less than a man, if you’d manipulate a child to nurse old wounds.”
The assault broke something inside him. A thread of composure Griffin hadn’t known was fraying.
“Why did you name her Lark?” he demanded.
The silence was deafening. Stepping too close, Griffin invaded her space.
“Of all the names you could’ve chosen, why Lark?” With the advantage of height, he pinioned her gaze. “If you have more children, will you use all the names we chose? Is Adam next, or Penn? Remind me, Rae. We planned to have two boys, two girls—the perfect combination. What was the name we picked for our second daughter? I can’t recall.”
Why was he dragging her down this path? Reminding her of the best moments of their youth—reminding himself of the halcyon days when he’d loved her unconditionally? The plans they’d made for college and a family. A fog of confusion overtook him. He was intentionally hurting her. Shame rushed over him in scalding waves.
Stricken, she searched his face. “You’ve changed, Griffin. I didn’t know you were cruel.” She inhaled a shuddering breath. “What happened to you?”
The soft rebuke cleared the fog. Only then did Griffin realize he’d miscalculated. They were talking past each other. Like two actors, blind to each other’s script.
Rae didn’t know about the keepsake. Yuna had not returned it. Rae had learned of his acquaintance with her daughter in some other way. But how?
Griffin found the answer. Quinn told her.
Sick-hearted, he tore his gaze away. “I’m not cruel.”
“No?”
“I’m stupid. It’s not an excuse. I’m just stating the facts.”
A tear wended down her cheek. She was too proud to brush it away.
“I won’t ask you to forgive me. I have no right to question the choices you made. I know that.”
The admission softened her the slightest degree. “No, you don’t.”
“I should’ve contacted you the first time Lark stopped in. Letting it go on without telling you . . . I’m sorry.”
She folded her arms.
“There is something I’m not clear on.” He hesitated. “You don’t owe me an explanation, of course.”
Her brows lowered. “Obviously,” she muttered.
“Please, Rae.”
“What do you want to know?”
“When did Lark tell Quinn about her decision to find her father?”
A weary silence overtook the room. Rae scanned the floor, as if weighing the limits of her kindness. They both knew she owed him nothing.
“Lark told Quinn last September,” she said at last. “They were in the high school library. Lark was bragging about how she’d solved the mystery of her missing father. As if the man responsible for half her genome was accidentally misplaced.”
“She gave Quinn my name?”
“But nothing else. She wouldn’t explain how she’d found you.”
“And you’re not sure how she did it.” A statement, not a question. Rae had given the confirmation Griffin needed: she didn’t know Lark had found the box.
“They were in the library,” she murmured, speaking more to herself than to him.
She was sifting for clues in a puzzle Griffin had already solved.
Rae added, “I suppose Lark found our high school yearbook in the archives. That would make sense.”
“And she was planning to contact every boy in our graduating class?” he asked, playing along. Rae was supplying more detail than requested, lowering her guard. It was thrilling when her expression became loose and vulnerable.