Kelsey fixed two cups with milk and sugar. Tony took his black, just like Evan. Despite the crazy situation, he couldn’t help but be impressed by the twins so far. They were dressed as impeccably as any of the Mavericks and they were straight-forward and polite. They both obviously cared a great deal for their mother. And why wouldn’t they, when she’d chosen their welfare over Evan’s?
“So what’s your story?” he asked Tony, planning to get as much information as possible out of them in the shortest amount of time. That way he’d have the ammo he needed to protect himself going forward. Evan had let people get the best of him one too many times. That stopped now.
“It was Mom’s birthday a couple of weeks ago.”
December fifteenth. He hadn’t forgotten the date.
“We were watching TV, one of those houses-of-the-rich-and-famous shows. It was your home. Nice place, by the way.”
Evan had completely forgotten about that interview. It was something Whitney had set up back in October. Before everything went to hell.
Although that wasn’t true, was it? Because their marriage had gone bad long before she admitted her lies. Long before she’d lied about the pregnancies, if he was perfectly honest.
The shine had worn off almost right from the start, in fact, if it had ever truly been there at all.
“We saw the resemblance between you and Tony,” Kelsey put in. “It was unbelievable.”
His mother—no, Susan was his mother now. This woman didn’t deserve the title anymore. Theresa sipped her coffee, looking at him over the rim, then held the cup between her hands as if she needed warmth.
Once upon a time, he’d been desperate for warmth. And she hadn’t been there to give it to him. He was supposed to be getting answers from his long-lost siblings, but his fury couldn’t be contained another minute longer.
“Did she tell you why she left me behind?” Bubbling, boiling rage rose up in him. “Did she tell you about the hell she left me in?” He had to put his coffee down before he broke the delicate china.
“She hasn’t really talked about any of that,” Tony admitted as Theresa broke down in renewed sobs. “We thought it would be better if we were all here. Then we could work it out together.”
Evan drew on every ounce of self-control he possessed to ratchet down his breathing as he curled his fingers around the dainty, carved-wood arms of the chair, digging in like he had talons.
He didn’t need to listen to this crap. He should toss them out on their asses.
But he couldn’t. Not when he was desperate for answers to questions that had haunted him for years. Why had she left? Where had she gone?
And why hadn’t she taken him?
“What’s your last name?” His voice sounded like gravel.
“Collins, same as yours,” Tony said. “She didn’t change her name.”
With all the resources he had, he could have found her. But he hadn’t tried. Because he’d sworn to himself that he’d moved on.
She beseeched him with her eyes, begging piteously for his understanding. Looking at her made his head whirl, sending his emotions tumbling. His knee jerked involuntarily, knocking the table, spilling coffee from his cup.
There were so many things he needed to understand, yet he couldn’t get the questions out. Not when he was falling into the same pit Whitney had dropped him into a month ago. Going dark, going deep, silent—shutting down.
Get a grip. Pull it together.
He would, damn it. He’d draw deep from his well of self-control. But he couldn’t stop wishing for Paige. She was a family psychologist. She could walk him through this minefield, which felt even more dangerous than anything he’d experienced with Whitney.
He needed Paige before he went off half-cocked on two people who’d possibly been as damaged by what their parents had done as he was. Paige would know how to straighten out this massively messed-up situation with her level-headed advice, her calm voice, her gentle smiles.
Because he sure as hell didn’t know what to say.
But Paige wasn’t here. And Evan wasn’t a kid anymore, afraid of his father’s fists, hiding under his covers, praying to someone who didn’t listen. Crying for a woman who’d left him.
He was a powerful man, both in body and position. He was a billionaire. He’d overcome. He’d moved the hell on. So he would control his emotions. He would not sound like a raving madman.
“Let’s talk about you two first. Tell me about yourselves.” He was actually amazed at how calm and rational he sounded despite everything roiling inside him.
They blinked in duplicate, like the twins they were, obviously surprised by his abrupt switch.
“Well,” Tony said, using the word like he needed a second to change gears. “I’m working on my graduate degree in engineering at UCSF.”
“Impressive.” UC San Francisco was a great school. Expensive too. He wondered if Tony had gotten some sort of scholarship, or if he was bogged down with student loans. Evan turned to Kelsey. “And you?”
“I’m a CPA. I work for a firm in San Francisco.”
“Equally impressive. You like numbers, I take it?” Like him.
She smiled, nodded. He saw his mother’s—no, Theresa’s smile in her. The rare smiles from his youth, when his father hadn’t been around.
“I’m so proud of them.” It was the first full sentence Theresa had spoken since her litany on the front porch: I’m so sorry. I’m so proud of you.