His words are less a question than a confirmation. He wouldn't know about the mole unless he knew it was there, adding to the beauty of her face. "Yes."
"She's pregnant?" he asks calmly. "You thought Maisy was pregnant because this woman is?"
I dip my chin towards the paper. "That woman told me she was having a son. She was there with a man. I just saw his back. He kissed her belly."
He swallows hard as he pulls in a deep, stuttered breath. "Was she happy? Did they look happy?"
"I didn't see his face," I begin cautiously. "I thought...I thought last night it was you there with her."
"It wasn't me." He eyes me carefully. "Did they look happy, Bridget?"
I nod slowly. "She was really happy."
His hand leaps to his chin as his gaze falls once again to the portrait. "She deserves to be happy. She deserves it all."
"Who?" I ask tentatively.
"Cleo," he says softly. "This has to be Cleo."
"I don't understand." I reach for the edge of the portrait. "Who is Cleo?"
"She's Maisy's sister." He slides the paper into my hands. "I've been looking for her for months."
Chapter 7
I stare down at the screen of my smartphone. I saw the resemblance between Maisy Trimble and her sister, Cleo, the moment Dane handed my phone back to me. He'd insisted on finding a picture of Maisy through an Internet search. It was a corporate headshot posted on the website of the financial firm she works at. I scan the details of her face before my gaze stops on her name. Mae Trimble. It's no wonder that Zoe and I couldn’t find her.
"Her name is Mae?" I don't look up from the screen as I ask the question.
"She always hated that name." Dane's long index finger taps the edge of my phone. "Both sisters were named after their grandmothers. Cleo loves her name. Maisy has learned to like hers but she asked me to call her Maisy when we first met, so I did."
I study her face as I listen to the man she once loved telling me about her. It feels invasive and intimate in a way that I can't fully comprehend. I've never met her, yet now that I know that I spent a few brief moments with her sister, I feel a connection to her. Maybe that's defined within my relationship with Dane or maybe it's more about the fact that I no longer feel threatened by Maisy.
"We look nothing alike," I comment. "She looks completely different than me."
He chuckles softly. "Why would you look alike?"
"She's beautiful." I slide my fingers over the screen of the phone to enlarge the picture. "Her hair is brown. Her eyes are too. Most men have a type."
"You're beautiful, Bridget." He tugs on the edge of the phone. "I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world."
They may be words meant to placate me since I've just seen an image of his ex-girlfriend for the first time. I don't need that reassurance though. I've spent the night and most of this morning believing that Cleo was Maisy.
Cleo's smile is captivating. Her face is gorgeous and the glow that radiated from her may have been partially related to her pregnancy, but I have little doubt that it's always a part of her. She's everything that a woman could strive to be and when I thought she was Maisy, I didn't feel threatened. I only felt an obscure sense of gratitude to the universe that Dane had walked into my life.
"You said that you've been looking for her." I motion towards the portrait with my hand. Dane had set it back on the easel after he took my smartphone from me to find a picture of Maisy so I could compare it to her sister.
"I have been," he says quietly. "We had a disagreement."
"A disagreement?" I ask even though I'm not sure I have a right to know anything about Dane's relationship with Maisy's sister. I'm still basking in the relief I feel knowing that he's not having a baby with his ex-girlfriend.
His gaze roams over my face. "Maisy and Cleo had a disagreement. I was pulled into it. We lost touch after that."
In an age of smartphones, social media and email, it's hard to imagine anyone losing touch. There has to be more to it than Dane's letting on but I'm too exhausted and feeling too protective of myself to push. "I'm sorry to hear that. It seems as though Cleo was important to you."
"Cleo was like a big sister to me." He rubs his left bicep with his right hand. "She looked a lot different when I knew her. Her hair was shorter and blonde. She looks happy in that portrait."
"She was very happy."
He rakes his hand through his hair. "I'm glad. I miss her."
I don't respond because I'm unsure of what I could offer that would provide him any comfort at all. I have questions about what transpired between us just before he realized I drew Cleo. He dropped to his knee and proposed to me under the weight of what he thought was a shared child between the two of us. He professed his love for me and now in the shadow of all of that, his mind is focused on that delicate, yet strong, woman I met in the museum. It's a woman who is a part of his past, a direct connection to his last love and someone he obviously cares for deeply.
I may have gotten out of this with my relationship with Dane still intact but something tells me that now that he's gotten a glimpse into Cleo's future, he's not going to rest until he finds her.
***
"I know that you have a lot of questions." His lips flutter against mine. "I want to answer those."
I nod as I reach up to grab hold of the front of his blue dress shirt. "I need you to answer those, Dane."
His mouth finds mine again but this time the kiss is deeper, lush and fueled by more than a need to quiet my lingering doubts. "I wish I could stay and make love to you. I need to be inside of you."
My body may be craving the same thing as his but I'm grateful that he doesn't push for more. I tap my hands against his hard chest. "We'll talk soon and then we can be together."
The corner of his mouth slides into a smile. "I love being with you, Bridget. I want to be with you now."
I know that his need to touch me and feel my body against his is rooted in the fact that he's been through the emotional wringer this afternoon. Since he spotted me on the street, he's gone from believing that we were having a baby to learning that Cleo is.
"I need to get to work but I can come over tomorrow morning when I'm done."
I want to tell him that I'll be waiting for him but I can't. I may have escaped virtually unscathed from my mistaken belief that he was having a son with Maisy, but I feel beaten and battered emotionally. I need time to digest everything that he's said, and the things he hasn't said to me today.
"Why don't you call me after your shift?" I offer. "We can talk then."
He eyes me before he lowers his mouth to mine for one last, lingering kiss.
Chapter 8
"I'm sorry, Bridge," Vanessa says softly as she leans forward in the chair. "I honestly thought it was Maisy."
"I know." I tap the top of her hand with mine. "I saw a picture of Maisy. Dane found one online. She looks a lot like her sister."