Lacey refused to open Thomas Grady’s letter at first.
She stared at the envelope as though it contained something contagious.
Cynthia placed it on the bedside table and waited.
Jeremy stood near the window.
I remained beside the foot of the bed.
No one urged her.
After nearly a minute, Lacey reached for it.
Her fingers shook badly enough that Cynthia offered a letter opener.
Lacey shook her head.
She tore the envelope herself.
Inside were two pages.
The first line changed her expression immediately.
“What?” Jeremy asked.
Lacey kept reading.
Her mouth tightened.
Then she handed the pages to Cynthia.
“I can’t.”
Cynthia scanned them.
Her professional calm faded.
“What does it say?” I asked.
She looked toward Lacey for permission.
Lacey nodded.
Cynthia began carefully.
“Thomas says he recently learned Lacey was seriously ill.”
“How?” Jeremy asked.
“He doesn’t say.”
“Keep going.”
Cynthia read silently for another moment.
“He says he has carried regret about 2004 for years.”
Jeremy folded his arms.
“What kind of regret?”
Cynthia looked at Lacey.
“The pregnancy.”
Lacey’s face had gone pale.
I moved closer.
“Thomas knew?”
Lacey whispered, “Not then.”
Jeremy’s anger returned.
“But you said he never knew.”
“He didn’t.”
“Then how does he know now?”
No one answered until Cynthia continued reading.
“He says Eleanor told him.”
Lacey stared at her.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
Lacey looked stunned.
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“She hated Thomas.”
Cynthia kept reading.
Apparently Lacey’s mother had contacted Thomas shortly before her death.
Years earlier.
She told him Lacey had been pregnant.
She told him Jeremy believed the child was his.
She told Thomas she suspected otherwise.
And she made him promise not to contact Lacey unless Lacey reached out first.
Thomas had kept that promise.
Until now.
Jeremy paced once across the room.
“So her mother knew.”
Lacey shook her head.
“She couldn’t have known for certain.”
“But she suspected.”
“Yes.”
I thought about the letters between Eleanor and my mother.
Two women carrying secrets their children would inherit without understanding.
“What does Thomas want?” I asked.
Cynthia read the final paragraph.
“He wants to apologize. And he says there’s something Lacey needs to know before making any final decisions about her estate.”
That caught everyone’s attention.
Lacey frowned.
“My estate?”
“Yes.”
“What could Thomas possibly know about that?”
Cynthia folded the pages.
“He claims part of the Nashville property may have been purchased using money that belonged to his family.”
Lacey stared at her.
“No.”
“What money?”
“An investment.”
Lacey’s voice was stronger now.
“My mother invested with Thomas’s father briefly. It went badly.”
“When?”
“Before she bought the house.”
Cynthia asked, “Was there litigation?”
“I don’t know.”
I looked toward the journal in my purse.
“Your mother used money from mine for the down payment.”
“Yes.”
“And possibly money connected to Thomas’s family too?”
“I don’t know.”
Jeremy muttered, “This house has more ghosts than people.”
No one disagreed.
Cynthia sat beside Lacey.
“There’s something we need to consider.”
“The will?”
“Yes.”
“If there’s a disputed ownership interest, transferring the property to Jill could become complicated.”
I almost laughed.
“Good.”
Everyone looked at me.
“I already said I don’t want it.”
Lacey’s eyes narrowed.
“You may change your mind.”
“No.”
“Jill—”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“Your property problems are not going to become the prize at the end of this nightmare.”
Lacey almost smiled.
“It isn’t a prize.”
“I know.”
Jeremy said quietly, “Maybe that’s why she should take it seriously.”
I turned.
“Stay out of it.”
He nodded.
Cynthia placed Thomas’s letter beside the will.
“He says he’s coming to Nashville today.”
Lacey’s eyes widened.
“Today?”
“He included a phone number.”
“I don’t want to see him.”
Jeremy looked toward her.
“Why?”
She stared back.
“Because I’m dying.”
“So?”
“So I don’t want the last days of my life turned into a courtroom.”
“He isn’t threatening you.”
“Not yet.”
Cynthia intervened.
“Meeting him doesn’t obligate you to anything.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
Lacey’s eyes moved toward Jeremy.
Then me.
“There are things about Thomas I never wrote down.”
I felt exhaustion settle over me.
“There are always things you didn’t write down.”
Lacey almost laughed.
“I deserve that.”
“What things?”
She glanced toward Cynthia.
“Can we have a few minutes?”
The lawyer stood.
“Of course.”
She looked at Jeremy and me.
Neither of us moved.
Lacey sighed.
“You two too.”
Jeremy frowned.
“Why?”
“Because I need to speak privately with Cynthia.”
I stepped toward the door.
Jeremy followed reluctantly.
In the hallway, he said, “You okay?”
“No.”
“Stupid question.”
“Yes.”
We walked toward the family waiting area.
A coffee machine rattled in the corner.
Jeremy bought two cups without asking.
He handed one to me.
Black.
The way I drank it.
I accepted it because refusing would have been theatrical.
We sat several feet apart.
“What do you think she’s hiding?” he asked.
“I’m done guessing.”
“Same.”
For a while, we drank bad hospital coffee.
Then I asked, “Did you ever meet Thomas?”
“A few times.”
“What was he like?”
Jeremy shrugged.
“Confident. Loud. The kind of guy who thought every room belonged to him.”
“Were you jealous?”
“Yes.”
The honesty came easily now.
“Did you know Lacey liked him?”
“I knew he liked her.”
“But not that they slept together.”
“No.”
I watched Jeremy’s face.
“Does it change how you remember her?”
“Yes.”
“What about yourself?”
His brow furrowed.
“How do you mean?”
“You spent decades believing you betrayed her first.”
He looked down.
“I did betray her.”
“You fell in love with someone else.”
“I was sneaking around with you.”
“Emotionally.”
“Mostly.”
That word caught me.
“Mostly?”
Jeremy’s eyes closed.
I put my coffee down.
“Jeremy.”
He looked miserable.
“We kissed before Lacey and I officially ended.”
I stared at him.
Once, twenty-two years earlier, I had asked him exactly that.
He had said no.
“You told me we didn’t.”
“I know.”
“How many times?”
“Twice.”
A laugh escaped me.
“Of course.”
“Jill—”
“You know what is almost impressive?”
“What?”
“Every time I think we have finally reached the oldest lie, another one is hiding underneath it.”
He lowered his head.
“I’m sorry.”
“Where?”
“What?”
“Where did we kiss?”
He looked uncomfortable.
“Behind the hardware store.”
I remembered.
A humid evening.
His truck.
Standing close enough to smell rain on his shirt.
I remembered believing I had stopped before crossing the line.
Apparently memory had edited the scene.
“Why did I forget?”
“You didn’t.”
My eyes lifted.
“You asked me about it later.”
“And you said?”
“That it happened after Lacey and I broke up.”
Cold spread through me.
I had built my innocence on his version.
Not complete innocence.
I knew we had flirted.
I knew we had grown emotionally intimate.
But I had believed the physical line had remained intact until he was single.
“Why lie?”
“Because you were already guilty.”
“So you made the story cleaner.”
“Yes.”
I looked around the hospital waiting area.
“Do you understand what you keep doing?”
“Yes.”
“No, listen.”
He met my eyes.
“You decide what truth other people can handle. Then you edit reality for them.”
Jeremy did not move.
“That’s what you did twenty-two years ago. That’s what you did with Lacey. That’s what you did every Tuesday.”
He swallowed.
“You’re right.”
I had expected resistance.
His agreement almost frightened me more.
“So what now?”
“I stop.”
“You think it’s that simple?”
“No.”
He rubbed both hands together.
“But I can stop adding new lies.”
That was not forgiveness.
Still, it mattered.
Cynthia appeared in the hallway.
“Lacey is ready.”
We returned to the room.
Lacey looked emotionally exhausted.
Cynthia remained near the door.
“I’ll let her explain.”
Then she left.
Lacey stared at her hands.
“Thomas and I did not just sleep together once.”
Jeremy went still.
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
“How long?” he asked.
“Three weeks.”
He stared at her.
“While we were together?”
“Yes.”
“And you let me think—”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
His voice sharpened.
Lacey flinched.
Jeremy turned away.
I remained beside the bed.
“Why hide this until now?”
“Because Thomas wasn’t simply revenge.”
She looked ashamed.
“I liked him.”
Jeremy laughed bitterly.
“That’s somehow worse.”
“I know.”
He turned toward the window.
Lacey continued.
“When I realized I was pregnant, I genuinely didn’t know which of you was the father.”
That changed the room.
Jeremy slowly turned back.
“What?”
“I didn’t know.”
“But yesterday you said it wasn’t mine.”
“I know now.”
“How?”
Lacey looked toward Cynthia’s closed briefcase.
“My mother had kept something.”
“What?”
“A lab report.”
Jeremy stared.
“What lab report?”
“After I miscarried, tissue was tested because the doctors were trying to determine whether there was a genetic issue.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“DNA?”
“Not exactly the way people think of it now. But later, years afterward, my mother had additional testing done.”
Jeremy looked stunned.
“Without telling you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She wanted to know.”
“And?”
Lacey took a slow breath.
“Thomas was the father.”
The uncertainty that had haunted Jeremy vanished in one sentence.
Not his child.
Never his child.
Twenty-two years of guilt had been built around something biology had already disproved.
He sat down.
Hard.
I watched his face.
He did not cry.
That would come later.
For now, he looked empty.
“Where is the report?”
“Cynthia has a copy.”
Jeremy pressed his fingers against his eyes.
“So your mother knew.”
“Yes.”
“And still let me believe.”
“She thought telling you would reopen everything.”
I nearly laughed at the familiar logic.
Protection.
Always protection.
People lying because truth might hurt.
“How many people spent twenty-two years deciding Jeremy couldn’t handle facts?” I asked.
Lacey looked at me.
“Too many.”
Jeremy lowered his hands.
“Did Thomas know the result?”
“Eventually.”
“When?”
“After my mother contacted him.”
“So he’s known for years that he got you pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“And never contacted you.”
“He promised her.”
Jeremy shook his head.
“This entire family loved promises more than honesty.”
No one argued.
Lacey reached toward him.
He did not take her hand.
The rejection hurt her visibly.
But she let her hand fall.
“I understand.”
Jeremy looked at her.
“I don’t hate you.”
She swallowed.
“I almost wish you did.”
“I’m too tired.”
That might have been the saddest thing he had said.
A knock sounded at the door.
All three of us turned.
David stepped in.
“There’s a man asking for Lacey.”
Her face changed.
“Thomas?”
David nodded.
Jeremy stood.
“Where?”
“Waiting area.”
Lacey gripped the blanket.
“I’m not ready.”
“No one is ever ready in this place,” I said.
She looked at me.
Something almost like gratitude crossed her face.
Jeremy moved toward the door.
“What are you doing?”
“Meeting him.”
Lacey shook her head.
“Jeremy.”
“I’m not going to hit him.”
“That wasn’t my concern.”
“It should probably be somewhere on the list.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
So did Lacey.
The absurdity lasted only a second.
Then Jeremy left.
I stayed.
Lacey looked toward the doorway.
“You should go with him.”
“Why?”
“Because Thomas knows something about Jeremy.”
My chest tightened.
“What?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“But you know enough to worry.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“Thomas said years ago that Jeremy’s firing from Reeves Restoration wasn’t only because of my phone call.”
I froze.
“What does that mean?”
“He implied Calvin was already looking for a reason.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Lacey swallowed.
“But Thomas knew Calvin.”
I stared toward the hall.
Old lies were colliding now.
The false accusation.
Thomas.
Calvin.
Jeremy’s ruined job.
Whatever happened twenty years ago might not have been random revenge after all.
I moved toward the door.
Before leaving, I looked back.
“Lacey.”
“Yes?”
“No more secrets.”
She nodded.
“No more.”
I entered the waiting area.
Jeremy stood near the windows facing a tall man with silver at his temples.
Thomas Grady.
He looked older, of course, but I could imagine the young man Lacey had described.
Confident posture.
Expensive coat.
A person accustomed to being listened to.
Thomas saw me.
“You’re Jill.”
Not a question.
“Yes.”
His eyes shifted toward Jeremy.
“I suppose everybody finally knows.”
Jeremy’s jaw tightened.
“Enough to know you owe us some explanations.”
Thomas nodded slowly.
“I do.”
Then he looked at me.
“But you should know something before we go into that room.”
“What?”
“Lacey thinks she cost Jeremy his job twenty years ago.”
“She did.”
Thomas shook his head.
“No.”
Jeremy stared at him.
“What are you talking about?”
“Calvin Reeves was going to fire you anyway.”
“Why?”
Thomas hesitated.
“Because somebody paid him.”
The waiting room seemed to go quiet around us.
Jeremy stepped closer.
“Who?”
Thomas’s eyes moved to me.
Then away.
“That’s the part none of you are going to like.”
I felt my pulse quicken.
“Who paid him?”
Thomas looked directly at me.
“Your father.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 9: Thomas’s Claim About Jill’s Father Reopened the Worst Year of Their Marriage and Revealed Someone Had Wanted Jeremy Gone
A Routine Request for Our Marriage Record Exposed the First Crack in Twenty-Two Years of Carefully Settled History
Part 8 of 35
