My boyfriend disappeared the night I told him I was pregnant.<\/p>\n
But when Grandpa finally saw our baby\u2019s eyes, the reaction on his face made me wonder whether Caleb\u2019s disappearance had been random at all.<\/p>\n
The hospital disappeared in my rearview mirror as Nora slept peacefully beside me, finally coming home after thirteen long days in the NICU.<\/p>\n
For the first time in weeks, I allowed myself to think that maybe the worst was behind us.<\/p>\n
My daughter had Caleb\u2019s dark curls, his cleft chin, and his unusual eyes\u2014one bright blue, the other nearly black.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy parents had those eyes,\u201d I remembered telling the discharge nurse.<\/p>\n
\u201cSomeone in the family must have them, too,\u201d she had said.<\/p>\n
\u201cHer father,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n
I hadn\u2019t said his name out loud in months.<\/p>\n
Caleb had disappeared the same night I told him about the pregnancy.<\/p>\n
No note.<\/p>\n
No answered calls.<\/p>\n
Nothing.<\/p>\n
The worst part was that nothing about that night had warned me.<\/p>\n
When I showed him the pregnancy test, Caleb stared at it for several seconds before finally looking at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
He took my hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen we\u2019ll figure it out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re not scared?\u201d<\/p>\n
He gave a nervous laugh.<\/p>\n
\u201cTerrified.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed through my tears.<\/p>\n
For one brief moment, I believed everything would be okay.<\/p>\n
Half his closet was empty.<\/p>\n
He kissed my forehead before he left and told me he\u2019d call in the morning.<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
By noon, my messages were still unread.<\/p>\n
By evening, his phone went straight to voicemail.<\/p>\n
The next morning, I drove to his apartment.<\/p>\n
Half his closet was empty.<\/p>\n
I stopped waiting sometime around my fifth month.<\/p>\n
That was when fear became something worse.<\/p>\n
Caleb hadn\u2019t simply gotten overwhelmed and forgotten to call.<\/p>\n
He had gone somewhere on purpose.<\/p>\n
By the time I reached my fifth month, I had stopped waiting for him.<\/p>\n
That was when Grandpa Walter finished sanding the crib in his garage and told me we would be fine.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust the three of us.\u201d<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t expect him to look afraid when he finally met Nora.<\/p>\n
My parents had died when I was ten, and Grandpa had raised me ever since.<\/p>\n
He had been the one constant in my life.<\/p>\n
The few things I had left from my mother were packed away in a cedar box at the back of my closet\u2014old photographs and letters I had never dared to go through.<\/p>\n
Grandpa drove me to every prenatal appointment.<\/p>\n
He cried when the technician told us the baby was a girl.<\/p>\n
Now, thirteen days after Nora\u2019s birth, I turned onto his gravel driveway just after four in the afternoon.<\/p>\n
He was already on the porch, just as he had been every afternoon for the past two weeks, waiting for us.<\/p>\n
The moment he saw my car, he stood up so quickly that his coffee mug tipped from the arm of the rocking chair and shattered across the wooden boards.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere are my girls!\u201d he called.<\/p>\n
At seventy-three, he still came down the steps two at a time.<\/p>\n
I lifted Nora from her car seat, and Grandpa opened his arms as if he\u2019d been holding them open the entire time I was gone.<\/p>\n
\u201cSay hi to your great-grandpa,\u201d I said as I carefully settled her into the crook of his arm.<\/p>\n
I expected him to cry.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t expect him to look afraid.<\/p>\n
\u201cGrandpa, you\u2019re scaring me.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked down at Nora, and for a moment, his entire face softened.<\/p>\n
Then he tilted her toward the afternoon light.<\/p>\n
His eyes moved from one mismatched eye to the other.<\/p>\n
Then to the cleft in her chin.<\/p>\n
The color drained from his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cGrandpa?\u201d<\/p>\n
His hands began to shake around her.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily. Who is her father?\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cI promised your mother I would never tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed once, confused and nervous.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know his name. Caleb.\u201d<\/p>\n
Whatever Grandpa had been afraid of, hearing that name confirmed it.<\/p>\n
The porch seemed to tilt beneath me.<\/p>\n
Grandpa slowly sank into the wicker chair.<\/p>\n
\u201cCaleb. And his father?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWilliam.\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice was barely audible.<\/p>\n
\u201cGrandpa, you\u2019re scaring me.\u201d<\/p>\n
He pressed his lips against Nora\u2019s forehead and closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, sweetheart. God, no.\u201d<\/p>\n
When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with tears.<\/p>\n
\u201cI promised your mother I would never tell you. Sarah made me swear, years before the crash.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSwear what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat you would grow up without that family in your life.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked away.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd after she died, I was glad to keep that promise. After what William did to her, I wanted nothing from that family anywhere near you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I lowered myself onto the top step, gripping the railing.<\/p>\n
\u201cGrandpa. Please. Are you telling me Caleb and I are\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t finish the sentence.<\/p>\n
His head snapped up.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. No, sweetheart. God, no. You are not related. Not by blood.\u201d<\/p>\n
Relief hit me so hard I almost laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen what?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at Nora\u2019s tiny mismatched eyes.<\/p>\n
His own eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother was his nanny.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhose?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCaleb\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n
He swallowed.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen that boy was seven years old, your mother worked for Caleb\u2019s family. She lived in that house. You lived there too, Emily. You were four, maybe five years old.\u201d<\/p>\n
Something stirred inside me.<\/p>\n
\u201cA man yelling at Mom in a doorway.\u201d<\/p>\n
Grandpa looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
I swallowed.<\/p>\n
\u201cA big house,\u201d I whispered. \u201cThere was a garden. A red bicycle.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd a boy. There was a boy who\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe used to run with me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was Caleb.\u201d<\/p>\n
Suddenly, the strangest moments of our relationship didn\u2019t feel strange anymore.<\/p>\n
\u201cCaleb is not William.\u201d<\/p>\n
I put my hand over my mouth.<\/p>\n
Nora squirmed against Grandpa\u2019s shoulder and made a soft, sleepy sound.<\/p>\n
Almost two years.<\/p>\n
Two years since the bookstore reading where he had turned in the aisle and said my name as if he already knew it.<\/p>\n
Two years of coffee, long drives, quiet evenings, and a small apartment we had slowly made into a home.<\/p>\n
None of it had been chance.<\/p>\n
\u201cAfter Caleb\u2019s mother died, William started pursuing your mother,\u201d Grandpa continued. \u201cSarah refused him, so he fired her and made sure no decent family in the county would hire her again.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cI remember yelling,\u201d I said quietly. \u201cA man yelling at Mom in a doorway.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought that proved me right.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho was yelling?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was William. I confronted him once. Caleb was there, holding onto the banister and watching us.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tears burned my eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI forgot all of this,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother packed you into the car that week. We never spoke about that family in this house again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut he\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked down at Nora.<\/p>\n
\u201cCaleb is not William.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe is William\u2019s son.\u201d<\/p>\n
Grandpa\u2019s voice hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cAfter what his father did to your mother, I didn\u2019t care to find out whether Caleb was any different.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI need to see for myself.\u201d<\/p>\n
Grandpa followed my gaze toward Nora.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen he disappeared the second you told him about the baby.\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice softened.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily, sweetheart, I thought that proved me right.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at my daughter in his arms.<\/p>\n
\u201cGrandpa. If he was just cruel\u2026 why did he stay two years?\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n
I stood slowly.<\/p>\n
My knees still ached from hospital chairs and the long weeks I had spent leaning over an incubator.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need to see for myself,\u201d I said. \u201cNot through you. Not through what William did to Mom. I need to know what Caleb actually did to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Grandpa closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
I took Nora back into my arms and walked toward my car, already knowing where I would look first.<\/p>\n
That night, after Nora was asleep, I pulled my mother\u2019s cedar box from the closet.<\/p>\n
If Grandpa had hidden that family from me, I needed to know what else was inside.<\/p>\n
I was looking for proof that Grandpa was wrong about Caleb.<\/p>\n
What I found was proof that Caleb had been lying to me, too.<\/p>\n
Beneath the scarves was a photograph of me at four years old, sitting on a red bicycle.<\/p>\n
Beside me stood a dark-haired boy with mismatched eyes.<\/p>\n
Caleb.<\/p>\n
Under the photograph was a bundle of letters.<\/p>\n
The earliest was written in a child\u2019s careful handwriting.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe isn\u2019t like his father.\u201d<\/p>\n
Another letter began:<\/p>\n
\u201cDear Sarah, where did the little girl go? Did she take her bicycle? Please write back. Caleb.\u201d<\/p>\n
He hadn\u2019t forgotten me.<\/p>\n
Not even then.<\/p>\n
I opened another letter.<\/p>\n
Then another.<\/p>\n
One contained folded bills tucked inside.<\/p>\n
\u201cI saved this from my allowance. Please use it for her. Please tell me she is okay.\u201d<\/p>\n
A later letter was written in an older, less careful hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cGrandfather says he\u2019s leaving something for me when I\u2019m old enough. Dad says I\u2019ll never touch any of it without him. Maybe someday I\u2019ll finally be able to help you myself.\u201d<\/p>\n
He had known.<\/p>\n
On the back of the last letter, written in my mother\u2019s slanted handwriting, were five words:<\/p>\n
\u201cHe isn\u2019t like his father.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother had trusted Caleb before I was old enough to remember him.<\/p>\n
Now I needed to know whether I had been a fool to do the same.<\/p>\n
My mouth went dry.<\/p>\n
I remembered a night on Caleb\u2019s couch, months before I knew I was pregnant.<\/p>\n
He had asked me almost casually:<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you ever have a red bicycle as a child?\u201d<\/p>\n
I had laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou look exactly like your mother.\u201d<\/p>\n
I told him yes, that my mom had bought it secondhand.<\/p>\n
He had smiled at the ceiling like a man who had just answered a question he\u2019d been carrying for twenty years.<\/p>\n
Then there was the bookstore event.<\/p>\n
He had walked in during the Q&A.<\/p>\n
He had known.<\/p>\n
I remembered complaining to him about the wealthy family my mother used to work for\u2014how she came home with nothing, how she died still carrying shame from those years.<\/p>\n
He had listened.<\/p>\n
And he had said nothing.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe can talk about this like adults.\u201d<\/p>\n
At sunrise, I strapped Nora into her car seat and drove to the address written on the oldest envelope.<\/p>\n
The house was smaller than I remembered.<\/p>\n
But the garden was the same.<\/p>\n
An older man opened the door.<\/p>\n
He was thinner than I had imagined.<\/p>\n
But his eyes told me everything.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou look exactly like your mother,\u201d William said.<\/p>\n
I held Nora tighter.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need to speak with Caleb.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCaleb isn\u2019t available.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease get off my porch.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen tell me why he left.\u201d<\/p>\n
William glanced at Nora.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome inside. We can talk about this like adults.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI want an answer.\u201d<\/p>\n
His eyes dropped to Nora.<\/p>\n
For one brief second, something flickered across his face.<\/p>\n
Recognition.<\/p>\n
Then it disappeared.<\/p>\n
His jaw tightened.<\/p>\n
When he looked at me again, his expression was perfectly controlled.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe knew about the pregnancy. He chose to leave.\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice was calm.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is the answer you drove all this way for. Take your daughter and go home.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t believe you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is not my concern.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stepped back.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease get off my porch.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stepped into the garden.<\/p>\n
Something inside me shifted.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t come back.\u201d<\/p>\n
The words triggered a memory.<\/p>\n
A woman crying at a door.<\/p>\n
My mother\u2019s hand wrapped tightly around mine.<\/p>\n
A man\u2019s voice following us down those same steps.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t come back.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then another image surfaced.<\/p>\n
A little boy running barefoot after us.<\/p>\n
Mismatched eyes.<\/p>\n
Caleb.<\/p>\n
He was crying, too.<\/p>\n
Suddenly, I remembered something else.<\/p>\n
His hand gripping the back of my red bicycle while I screamed at him not to let go.<\/p>\n
\u201cI won\u2019t,\u201d he had said.<\/p>\n
\u201cKeep going.\u201d<\/p>\n
I made it halfway to the car before stopping.<\/p>\n
Nora shifted against my chest.<\/p>\n
William wanted me to believe that the little boy I remembered had grown into a man who could abandon his own daughter without looking back.<\/p>\n
Maybe he had.<\/p>\n
But I wasn\u2019t going to take William\u2019s word for it.<\/p>\n
I turned around.<\/p>\n
\u201cWilliam.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am not leaving until Caleb himself stands in front of me and tells me he doesn\u2019t want his daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou found me on purpose.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are being hysterical.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am being clear.\u201d<\/p>\n
Behind him, a voice from somewhere deeper inside the house spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad, move.\u201d<\/p>\n
Footsteps came down the hallway.<\/p>\n
William\u2019s hand tightened around the doorframe.<\/p>\n
Then it fell.<\/p>\n
The door opened wider.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew exactly who I was.\u201d<\/p>\n
Caleb stepped onto the porch.<\/p>\n
He looked exhausted, like he hadn\u2019t slept in days.<\/p>\n
For months, I had imagined what I would say if I ever saw him again.<\/p>\n
None of those words survived the sight of him standing in his father\u2019s doorway.<\/p>\n
I faced him on the gravel drive, Nora warm against my chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow long did you know?\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t pretend not to understand.<\/p>\n
\u201cFrom the bookstore.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo you found me on purpose.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI recognized your name. Then I saw you and\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe red bicycle,\u201d I interrupted. \u201cAll those questions about my childhood. You knew exactly who I was.\u201d<\/p>\n
His eyes dropped.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wanted to tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor two years?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe offered me a deal.\u201d<\/p>\n
Caleb looked toward his father.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou listened while I talked about the family my mother worked for. You knew exactly who I was talking about. You let me fall in love with you without telling me you were part of it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was afraid you\u2019d look at me and see him.\u201d<\/p>\n
I glanced toward William.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd when I told you I was pregnant, you disappeared anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n
Caleb took a step toward me.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot because I didn\u2019t want Nora.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why?\u201d<\/p>\n
His hesitation scared me more than any answer could have.<\/p>\n
\u201cI never planned to stay gone.\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice broke.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe night you told me, I drove straight here. I made him tell me what he\u2019d done to your mother. He confessed.\u201d<\/p>\n
William gave a bitter laugh.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t make it sound like I volunteered.\u201d<\/p>\n
Caleb shot him a look.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen he offered me a deal.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked back at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cStay away from you until the baby was born, and he\u2019d finally release the family trust\u2014one-point-six million my grandfather left me, money he\u2019s controlled since I was nineteen.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you agreed?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe has my eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n
My heart tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cI agreed. I told myself that once the baby was born and the trust was legally mine, he couldn\u2019t control me with it anymore. Then I\u2019d come back, tell you everything, and we\u2019d build a life he couldn\u2019t touch.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Nora was born almost two weeks ago,\u201d I said. \u201cSo why are you still here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe transfer cleared three days ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
Caleb\u2019s voice was quiet.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was packing to leave when Dad told me Nora was still in the NICU. I didn\u2019t even know which hospital you were in.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo you disappeared and decided I\u2019d understand later.\u201d<\/p>\n
His eyes dropped to Nora.<\/p>\n
\u201cI told myself losing those months with you was better than letting him control the rest of our lives.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you never thought I should get a say in that?\u201d<\/p>\n
He went completely still.<\/p>\n
That was my answer.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not taking you back.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
Then I looked past him at the house.<\/p>\n
Every man who had ever loved a woman in my family had decided what she was allowed to know.<\/p>\n
William had decided for my mother.<\/p>\n
Grandpa had decided which pieces of my own childhood I could hold.<\/p>\n
And Caleb had decided when I deserved the truth.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou let him choose what I got to know, Caleb.\u201d<\/p>\n
My voice shook.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s exactly what he did to her.\u201d<\/p>\n
Caleb looked down at Nora.<\/p>\n
His eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe has my eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t promise me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I held Nora closer.<\/p>\n
\u201cShow me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe does.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCan I know her?\u201d<\/p>\n
Three months earlier, I might have answered for the woman who loved him.<\/p>\n
Now I had to answer as Nora\u2019s mother.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. You can be her father.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked directly into his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I\u2019m not taking you back.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI won\u2019t disappear again. I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t promise me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I swallowed.<\/p>\n
\u201cShow me.\u201d<\/p>\n
This time, I believed him.<\/p>\n
Three months later, I watched Caleb struggle with Nora\u2019s car seat in my driveway.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can ask,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cGive me one more.\u201d<\/p>\n
He tried again.<\/p>\n
This time, he got it right.<\/p>\n
Then he looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cSix?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSix.\u201d<\/p>\n
I smiled faintly.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd if anything changes, you call. You don\u2019t decide for both of us.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
This time, I believed him.<\/p>\n
I handed him the diaper bag.<\/p>\n
There were no secrets left.<\/p>\n
He had moved out of his father\u2019s house, and although the trust was finally his, decisions about Nora were ours.<\/p>\n
Later, I read Mom\u2019s letters to Grandpa.<\/p>\n
He sat quietly for a long time before speaking.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought keeping that family away was protecting you.\u201d<\/p>\n
He wiped his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI never gave Caleb a chance to prove he wasn\u2019t his father.\u201d<\/p>\n
That night, Caleb brought Nora home exactly at six.<\/p>\n
As I rocked her to sleep, I realized something.<\/p>\n
There were no secrets left for someone else to decide I wasn\u2019t ready to hear.<\/p>\n
For the first time in my life, I had the whole story.<\/p>\n
And I was the first woman in my family who could finally decide for herself who got to stay.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My boyfriend disappeared the night I told him I was pregnant. But when Grandpa finally saw our baby\u2019s eyes, the…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":2538,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2537","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/recipesecrets.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2537","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/recipesecrets.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/recipesecrets.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/recipesecrets.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/recipesecrets.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2537"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/recipesecrets.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2537\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2539,"href":"https:\/\/recipesecrets.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2537\/revisions\/2539"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/recipesecrets.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/2538"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/recipesecrets.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2537"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/recipesecrets.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2537"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/recipesecrets.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2537"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}