Hoax in One

| 34 |

Everything suddenly made sense—like I had reached complete clarity.

Every word Tate had ever spoken rushed back through my brain with new meaning. They all clicked into place.

When I looked down at the tattered envelope with Tate's name and address typed neatly in the center and Hilton Head Hospital in the upper left, tears spilled out from my eyes and splattered across it.

I rested my fingertips on top of it before I squeezed it tight into my palm. It didn't even make a sound because the paper was so soft and flexible from Tate's constant manipulation. It was warm from his pocket.

Lillian covered my fist with her hand. "Tate made a decision a long time ago when the genetic test became available that he didn't want to know, but he took this test for you. Whatever has happened between you two this past month or so, just know that it all came from a place of true love." Her words caught in her throat. "No matter what you decide, he loves you with all of his heart. He'll never stop. And no one will judge you." I couldn't look her in the face, but she squeezed my hand reassuringly. Her blush pink nails curved gently into my skin. "I want you to know that Richard was adopted. We didn't know he had it before we had Tate. But honestly, I couldn't imagine my life without him as my son. It's almost unbearable to think that if I'd known, I might have made a deliberate choice not to have children."

I let out a half breath, half sob. I inhaled deeply through my nose, trying to compose myself.

Tate had come home after we first kissed. He had gone to therapy and worked through the weight of his life choices. He had taken this test so he could know if he could be with me. So he could know if he could give me everything I had ever dreamed of. Then when he got this in the mail, he'd closed himself off in his room and punched a hole in the wall because he couldn't open it like he thought he would be able to.

The world was a better place because Tate was in it. I couldn't imagine him not in my life.

Tate hadn't wanted to tell me because he didn't want me to people please him. He thought he would force me into doing things I didn't really want to do—like being with him despite it, like not having children, like having to take care of him.

Well, fuck that bullshit.

I knew what I wanted.

Tate didn't understand the depth of my feelings. Or maybe he did because if the roles were reversed, I knew he would feel the same way. He would make the same choice. But he didn't have that luxury.

I stood.

"His room is upstairs, first door on the right," Lillian told me as I stepped around her.

"Thank you, Lillian."

I opened his door without knocking. Tate was laying on his bed, propped up on his pillows, and staring at the ceiling.

His unmade bed had white sheets and a dark gray comforter. Tate's hair blended in with the dark wooden headboard behind his head.

He didn't so much as glance my way when I stepped inside.

"Don't open it," I pleaded. "Live your life with me. One day at a time. Happy. Please don't open it."

"You don't know what you're saying," he replied with his eyes still cast upward. "I can't do that to you."

Of course, I knew what I was saying. That was what I wanted deep in my soul.

"You're already living your life like you have it. Tell me why," I pressed.

I let the envelope go. It coasted down to the floor and hit the tan carpet next to my foot. I climbed onto his bed, curling my entire body on top of him.