Exaltation (Insight #11)(8)
Emery could only smirk. First of all it wasn’t Hoodoo, and as far as she was concerned her family and friends were beyond open minded. Even if they didn’t believe an outlined faith, they respected it, knew it was spoken or believed for a reason and it was not their place to question it.
“They’re my girls.”
Duncan raised his brow as he crossed his arms. He’d shed his business jacket and tie so any outward look of authority was gone. He looked liked a middle aged, soon to be balding professor.
“I have never judged your decisions. Even having a child as young as you are, but I will draw the line when it comes to this.”
Duncan had a plan for everything. A timescale set on his life. There was a point when he wanted to get married. There was a point when he wanted to have children. Neither of those points lined up with Emery’s outlook.
He tried to talk her out of becoming a mom before their work was done. For he knew it would cause her to lose focus. And he was right. He only met with the surrogate once and played his role. He was out of town when the girls were born. In fact, they had been home for three weeks before he finally returned.
Needless to say, his only comment was on how ridiculous the names they were given were. When he had time, he planned to change them legally.
“You have no line to draw. They’re not yours. They’re mine and mine alone.” God it felt good to say that aloud. Emery reached in her pocket and pulled out the tattered mother’s copy of the birth certificate she had been daring to show him for days.
He didn’t bother to take it from her. “I signed the release. I gave you what you needed.”
“And I chose not to use it.”
His face hardened. He had suspected as much but let it go because now those girls were attached to the woman he loved. The woman who had the perfect balance of beauty and brilliance. He assumed in a few years he could store the girls safely away in a boarding school and have Emery all to himself.
“Fair enough. I suppose you found a donor with a broader education. Maybe taller,” he darkly quipped, mocking his five foot six stance. Something he had insecurities about.
“Wasn’t worried about how tall they were going to be.”
“What was it then?”
Emery looked away as she pulled in a deep breath. She was furious at herself for letting her relationship with him go on this long. That was just how she was made though. It always took her time to acknowledge the good and bad in her life, more often than not, too long.
“I knew we were not going to spend our lives together. It was only fair to you and them.”
Anger encased his gaze. “Is that what your Hoodoo cards told you?”
“No. I don’t love you.”
Again he wasn’t surprised to hear so. She had never told him she did, but he assumed as soon as she overcame her fascinations, obsessions, with wanting to be a mother she would see how supportive he was to her.
“Not yet.”
“I would have already loved you if it were going to happen. We are compatible intellectually, nothing more.”
His harsh stare raked over her. “That’s enough for now.”
“No, it’s not, because I spend all my time disproving your theories or hiding my findings from you.”
He jutted his chin upward. “And what are you hiding from me now?”
“Nothing. I told you the girls are not yours and I’m not in love with you. Which means this grant is something I cannot accept. I won’t confuse the girls.”
“Who is Jamison BellaRose?”
So he was listening. “A friend of my parents.” That was as far as she was going with his description. She knew Duncan lusted to disprove any and every supernatural aspect, especially the thin idea immortals existed outside of myth.
“What can he provide for you that I cannot?”
Emery shook her head. “This is what is wrong with us. A relationship does not begin with a resume.” Even though she knew Jamison’s would put Duncan’s to shame. “I haven’t even seen him in ten years. If you’re going to eavesdrop, do so properly. The last thing I need or want in my life right now is a man. I have my girls. And I can do my research from here.”
“Backwoods research.”
She lifted her hands. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re not a researcher. You’re a critic. All you care about is making a name for yourself.”
He was neither. He was a scientist charged with the responsibility of resurrecting and dissecting ancient beliefs all in the name of finding the next miracle cure. One which would bring him and all those who backed him, unspeakable wealth.
“Right now the only name I am concerned about is Jamison BellaRose. Why did you flush when she said his name?”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
Okay, maybe she did, but she wasn’t ready to admit that to herself much less him.
“Maybe I was thinking about the last time I saw him—the day I put my parents in the ground. I was thinking about what really mattered to me right now—family. I wanted a family and I was given one. I’m staying. We are over.” Her tone was unnervingly even.
“A broken family.”
“How is it broken?”
“No father, unless Jamison has already filled my slot.”