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But now, it’s all over and I need to focus on my responsibilities. I have an interview next week with a drugstore in town, and I’m dreading it. I don’t want to leave my baby with our neighbor, but I have no choice. There’s no way we’ll survive financially without me getting a job. The burden is too heavy on my brother, and I don’t want to pull us into a downward spiral where we’ll be dependent on government help.
I pull Brynna into my lap, trying to focus on the positive. For another week at least, I have time with my baby. We’re sitting facing the water, and she’s pointing and telling me in gibberish all the things she sees. The water glints in the sunlight, and in response, I tell her the real words for the birds and other wildlife. It’s never too soon to love your child. She means everything to me, and is my sweetest asset.
Suddenly, a shadow passes over us and I look up, covering my eyes from the sun. But instead of a tree, or a bird, or another passerby, my eyes meet a familiar, piercing blue gaze, and the breath evaporates from my lungs.
It’s John, looming over us, looking as handsome as ever. He’s enormous and massive, casting us into shadow. Even worse, as his glance slides over me and then to the baby, he also looks very, very angry.14JohnWhat the fuck? I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
I haven’t been to this park in years, but I needed to clear my head, so I slipped away. No one at ShopMore was going to notice, much less say anything. It pays to be the boss after all.
But I never expected to see this. It’s Britney, strolling in the park while blowing kisses into a baby carriage. My heart began to race. A stroller? A child? No fucking way. My mind begins to spin furiously.
Britney’s as beautiful as ever, with her chestnut curls waving about her shoulders and an adoring expression on her face. She leans forward again, those enormous breasts like pendulums, and lifts the baby out of the carriage. The little girl coos, her face hidden by a sunbonnet.
Like a magnet, I began to walk in their direction. Britney is still oblivious, and I try to focus. She’s so gorgeous with the sun glinting off her curls, but it’s the baby in her lap that has my heart pounding. No fucking way. And then my worst nightmare, or maybe my best dream, comes true. As I near, the baby gurgles and looks at me, and my heart literally stops because the child has eyes just like mine.
What the fuck?
I stalk towards them, and sensing my presence, the beautiful woman finally turns.
“John,” Britney finally says, her expression both startled and fearful at once. “I didn’t … I’m sorry, I had no idea you walked in this park.”
Are we really going to make small talk at a time like this? Oh shit. I quickly do the math in my head, reviewing the numbers in my head. The baby is probably three or four months old, and the timeline checks out.
There’s no way this baby belongs to anyone but me.
“How have you been?” Britney asks, clambering to her feet, the child clutched tightly in her arms.
Oh, hell no. I’m not playing this game.
“Is this my daughter?” I grind out, a furious expression on my face.
“John,” she begins, but I cut her off.
“Don’t fuck with me. Is this my daughter?” I say in a cutting voice, my eyes blazing.
Britney hesitates. Tears pool in her eyes.
“Yes,” she finally says quietly. “This is Brynna. You’re a father, John.”
I literally feel like I’m going to pass out for a moment, and tears spring to my eyes. My knees go weak as the world sways before me, but then I catch myself. This is my baby, my woman, and my family. I have to stay sane.
“Can I hold her?” I ask in a raspy voice.
“Of course,” Britney says. She carefully hands the child over to me, and the bundle is warm and soft. My daughter looks at her mother, confused at first, but she doesn’t start to cry. Instead, she grabs the collar of my shirt in her fists and stares at me.
The lump in my throat is enormous, and I struggle to swallow. Britney and I made a beautiful little girl together. Brynna is perfect, as I inspect her tiny little fingers while looking into that cherubic face.
“She’s four months old,” Britney says quietly. “She was born on February fourteenth.”
“A Valentine’s Day baby.”
“Yes.”
I want to kill myself. While Britney was laboring in the hospital giving birth to our child, I was having dinner with another woman. It didn’t mean anything. I was merely trying to get the girl I loved out of my mind, and I accepted a date with some flighty, vapid female in an effort to banish Britney from my mind fully.
