Hailey uncurled her legs from under her and sat up straight. “I’ve been thinking about something else. Maybe this guy is telling the truth, and they’re married. But what if she was unhappy? Or afraid of him? Maybe she deliberately ran away. He could even be the reason she tried to kill herself.”
That possibility had occurred to Blythe, too, and the prospect worried her deeply. She knew how quickly Gabriel would take on the role of superhero and protector. If Julian Hunter were violent, her son could be in danger. She knew it was selfish of her to think first of her son, when Addison could also be a target, but she was his mother first.
Gabriel leaned forward, planting both feet firmly on the floor. “Yeah, that makes total sense. We all knew she was running away from something. It had to be him. What other explanation could there be?” He was suddenly animated, as if he’d been thrown a lifeline.
“At this point, all of this is conjecture,” Ted said. “We can create all the scenarios we choose and suppose all we want, but there’s no point in guessing until we have all the facts. And the one who will make the final decision as to what is or isn’t true will be Addison. Perhaps she will regain some memory of exactly what happened or who she was. We just need to wait and see.”
Blythe could have kissed her husband. He had always been the calm voice of reason and common sense, the one who often diffused a family disagreement.
“All right, then,” she said. “Let’s stop taking shots in the dark and getting upset over things that may not turn out to be true. Agreed?”
Hailey nodded, unsmiling, but Blythe could see that Gabriel wasn’t convinced. He leveled a look at her. “I need to ask you something.”
She waited.
“Are you planning to call Darcy? To tell her what’s happened?”
For the first time since Julian Hunter appeared, she felt anger toward her son. Was he so obsessed with Addison that he questioned his mother’s integrity? “Of course not. How can you even ask me that?”
“Let’s be honest, Mom. You were never crazy about the idea of Addison and me getting married.”
Blythe’s face felt like it was on fire. “Only because I was afraid you’d get hurt,” she said, and then added hotly, “Just as you have been.”
“All right, all right,” Ted said. “Let’s all sit back and calm down. Attacking each other isn’t helping anything.”
Gabriel looked at the ceiling, silent. Then, returning his gaze to Blythe, he said, “I’m sorry. I . . . I don’t know. I can’t even think straight right now.”
She went to the sofa and put her arm around her son, drawing him near. “It’s all right. I understand. I’m so sorry for what you’re going through.”
He leaned into her, and she felt his body shake as he cried against her shoulder, the way he had when he was just a little boy and cut his knee or broke a toy. This time, though, a bandage or tube of glue wouldn’t fix it. This time Gabriel’s heart was breaking. At that moment all Blythe wished was that her son had never met the woman who called herself Addison Hope.
??31??
Addison
A black Jaguar pulls into the driveway, and I watch from the window as Julian gets out of it. I’m struck again by his good looks, although they don’t engender any feeling in me. My heart still belongs to Gabriel. I move from the window and go to the door, opening it before he knocks.
He gives me a broad smile. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I say, feeling suddenly shy.
He raises one eyebrow. “Is it okay if I come in?”
A nervous laugh escapes my lips. “Of course. Please.” I open the door wide, and he walks inside. Gigi and Ed are in the living room, having convinced me to allow them to stay, and she’s put out a tray with coffee and pastries.
“Please come and sit. I hope you understand, but Ed and Gigi would like to talk to you, too. They’ve become like parents to me,” I explain.
A look passes over his face, but I can’t tell what it means. “Of course.”
He’s carrying a briefcase, which he places on the floor next to his chair before pulling out a folder from it. “Here’s your birth certificate, license, and passport.” He hands the folder to me, and I examine each carefully. There’s my photo, and my birthday, which still shocks me. June 8, 1984.
He retrieves another document from the briefcase. “Valentina’s birth certificate.” I take it from him, my hand shaking. “Cassandra Hunter” under “Mother.”