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But the words come out like vomit, bubbling inside of me, spilling over without me being able to stop them.

“Then I found out about Ryan, and I was so petrified. I packed my things and ran straight home. I only blocked you on social media for my own sanity. I was obsessing. I was looking at your page, at your stories, crying while I did it. Wondering why I couldn’t be better.”

“Be better?” he asks.

“In bed,” I whisper.

I wish I didn’t have to say the words. He obviously wants to embarrass me further. I want to cry about the whole thing. And if I could make him leave right now, I would, but I can’t. He deserves to know everything and have the chance to get to know his child.

ELI

I can’t stop myself from staring at her. I honestly don’t believe that I’ve just heard what I have.

“Better in bed? Are you trying to tell me that you’re bad?” I ask.

She shrugs her shoulder, her eyes leaving mine as they travel to her lap. She watches as her fingers twist. She wrings them together, and I can’t stop staring at her in disbelief. The fact that she somehow thought she was bad in bed is completely fucking insane.

“You were the best I ever had, sunshine.”

Her head snaps up, her eyes flick to meet mine, and then her lips part. She closes her lips, pressing them together, and rolls them a few times before she parts them again. I watch her, still in disbelief that she’s just said what she has.

But also, thank fuck for an open and honest discussion. Not a bunch of miscommunications. Because I need to know how we got here and how we get to wherever the fuck we’re supposed to be.

“Then why did you leave?” she asks. “Without saying anything?”

I almost laugh, but I decide against it. Instead, I dip my chin, my gaze never leaving hers, and I tell her the truth.

I tell her that her roommate came in, saw me, and when she looked at me her eyes got huge. I didn’t want her to get into trouble by having a man in her dorm. I bounced and called a few days later; we had a game, and I had to travel.

“I should have called you sooner. I should have told you. I can blame it on hockey, but the honest truth is I was an asshole. I wasn’t ready to feel what I felt for you. When I realized just what I felt, it was too late.”

Her lips twitch into a smirk then quickly turn down into a frown. “It was too late?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say with a snort. “You’d blocked me or just ignored me, I’m not sure.”

“Ignored first, blocked after about nine months.”

Nodding a couple of times, I slide my palms down my thighs, my eyes dragging from hers to the bed. Ryan is fast asleep, his arms resting above his head, his little hands balled into fists. I almost laugh because I sleep the same way when I’m really fucking tired.

His dark hair, his chubby cheeks, and pink pouty lips. He’s perfect in every fucking way. Shifting in my seat, I tear my gaze away from him and focus on Wrenly again. She’s watching me, but I can’t guess what she’s thinking.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask. “Once you found out the truth.”

She shakes her head once, then lets out a heavy exhale. Her eyes lift to meet mine and we stare at one another for a long moment. My heart thumps against my chest, harder and harder with each passing second. Then she begins to speak.

I’m not sure what I expect her to say, maybe that she didn’t want anything to do with me. Clearly, she thought I was a fucking asshole. So there’s no telling why she didn’t offer this information, this massive information.

“I was scared,” she whispers. “Then, after he was born, I was exhausted and so busy with school and work that every night, I fell into bed and passed out. Months passed, and I knew I needed to tell you, but at the same time, it felt like I’d waited too long.”

“School and work?” I ask.

“I went to community college, and now I’m a dental assistant.”

My brows lift in surprise. And I am surprised. She had a baby, went to school, and has a good career now, all without my help. Instead of telling her how absolutely fucking astonishing it is that she went through school and now is a working mother, I blurt out something that makes me sound like an absolute asshole.

“Who watches him during the day?” I ask.

I don’t know why that feels important, but it does. Maybe it’s because my mom was a stay-at-home mother, or at least she was after she married my stepfather. I don’t remember what life was like before he came into our lives. He’s been a significant part of my world since I was three years old.