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I shook his hand. He applied uncomfortable pressure around my fingers as I tried to pull away.
“You will terminate your little issue?”
“Yes, of course,” I lied as I ripped my hand away. He pulled out a checkbook and a Mont Blanc pen, ready to write me a check.
This man could go fuck himself. Max could go fuck himself.
A wave of nausea crept up my throat, and I stood up. “I would prefer a cashier’s check. You can drop it off tomorrow. I work open to noon. Excuse me.”
I walked behind the building and hurled up the contents of my stomach. When I stood straight, my eyes filled with tears. I pulled out my phone, a device I’d watched for a month, waiting for a call, some response. It felt like a molten rock in my hand.
I would take their money, and I would live so well without them. My baby will be better off without this family in his or her life.
Without thinking, I drove to Tin Lake as the sun set, golden hour casting a sheen over the beaches and the tourists packing up.
With a scream, I tossed my phone into the water.
I plopped to the ground, sand spraying around my backside. I cradled my stomach.
“I promise I’ll love you enough for the both of us. I will make us a life so beautiful you won’t miss him. He’s going to be so sorry he missed out on you. I already love you so much, it feels infinite.”
17
Max
Now
Emily is still in the other room when I hear footsteps come down the stairs.
Olive steps down in robot pajamas, looking around with crossed arms.
“Where’s my mom?”
I put my wine glass down because my hands shake. “She went in the other room. Do you need something?”
“No,” she says, walking to the recliner and sitting down. She stares at her knees. When she looks up, my chest clenches. “So, you’re my dad.”
“Yeah.”
“Do I have any other brothers or sisters?”
I shake my head.
“Are you going to marry Noelle?”
I shake my head again. “Noelle and I are no longer boyfriend-girlfriend.”
“Oh,” she says. I see a glimmer of a smile on her face. When she looks up, she says, “Where do you live?”
“San Diego,” I say.
She nods again. When she looks at me, I see an expression I wish I could take away. A cocktail of hurt and confusion infuses my daughter’s face, and I wish I could get rid of it. Forever.
“Why now?” she asks.
It’s implicating her primary parent if I tell her the truth. I didn’t know. Emily never returned my emails. If I had known Emily was pregnant, I would’ve moved heaven and earth to be here. For everything.
“Well…” Footsteps pull Olive’s attention to the hallway where Emily emerges with a smile so strained, I wonder what happened.
