Chapter Twenty-Three
Within minutes of their leaving, Chance fell asleep in his baby carrier. Mark glanced at his sleeping son in the rear-view mirror and saw him as if for the first time. His cherubic face was still damp with tears and pale hair fell in one wispy, golden lock across his forehead. His miniature fist grasped the new blue teething ring given to him by his grandfather. He looked like the child of a stranger.
It occurred to Mark that he really had no relationship with his infant son. He’d behaved in an appropriately excited way when Chance was born, but had felt burdened by a heavy secret. He’d only been going through the motions. The child was little more than an afterthought linked to his primary relationship with Lena. As Mark’s relationship with Lena deteriorated, his in
