If I do this right, there’s a chance I can still get his help with the Ophelia situation.
“You made the choice you thought was best at the time. I left. I wasn’t dependable or reliable. Hell, I didn’t even keep in touch on social media, which was the least I should have done. It’s okay.”
I’m totally lost. What the hell is he talking about?
“Cal, I think you’re—”
“Han, it’s okay. I’m not mad about the baby. Child. Kid. Whatever. I understand why you didn’t reach out before, but you can now. My kid is not going to want or need for anything.”
Kid?
I don’t mean to laugh in his face literally, but that’s what sort of happens.
Okay, there’s no sort of about it. I let out a large, unattractive noise that can only be described as a guffaw.
Now, Cal pulls me into a hug, crushing me to his chest. “I can’t imagine how much of a struggle it’s been all these years for you. I’ll take care of you and the baby. We can figure something out.”
This is the most ridiculous thing. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was being pranked. Laughter wells up, putting incredible pressure on my chest. My whole body shakes against him, trying not to let my true emotions show while he auditions for Father of the Year.
Cal must mistake my laughter for tears, because now he’s patting the back of my head, pressing my face down into his shoulder. If didn’t know better, I’d think he’s trying to soothe me. Mostly because he’s going, “Sssh, Han. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you both.”
Now I really am crying, but only from laughter. Even in the depths of my imagination, I could not imagine a more ridiculous scenario than the one I’m in the middle of right this minute.
“I don’t know why you waited this long to reach out to me. Is he sick? Does he need a kidney? We can get my family tested to see if someone’s a match.”
With the mention of that word, my laughter stops abruptly, real tears threatening now. My posture shifts to ramrod straight and if he doesn’t let me go this second, I’m going to go wild.
Callaghan must feel the change because he loosens his hold and steps back. “Han, what is it? Is it bad? Let me know how I can help.”
I smooth down the front of my pants. There’s something spilled on them, probably salad dressing that’ll leave a stain.
I hope Cal got it on him and his clothes are ruined.
The loss of a pair of pants would be minor compared to the losses I’ve had.
Chapter 11: Callaghan
