Not gonna happen. If I have a chance of connecting with this woman it needs to be now, while she’s emotional, showing something other than repugnance toward me.
I bounce out of my chair and onto my feet. “Please don’t run, Victoria.”
Her eyes flex wide as I open my arms. I’m not letting her run. She’s a stranger, but we have history. There’s a pull in my chest when I’m near her that tells me I can’t just let her leave.
She presses against my chest with both palms flat, but I don’t relent. I curl her against my chest and just hold her.
She falls apart. Heaving sobs wrack her entire body, so I hold her tighter. Her bag drops to the floor with a thud and Megan steps out from behind the counter to see if she needs to help somehow.
Or at least that’s what I think she’s mouthing over Victoria’s head. I mouth back that it’s okay, but from the downturned lips and the frown she’s sporting, I’m not sure whether she believes me or not.
“Easy, hey, come on, you’re going to pass out if you keep this up. Can you take a slow breath for me, please?”
Victoria shakes her head against my body, so I squeeze even tighter. After a few long moments, her shaking shoulders slow to a stop, and when she eventually lifts her head and meets my eyes, hers are watery and red-rimmed.
“Don’t leave.”
She nods, but it’s shaky, and her focus is on the door behind me.
“I mean it. We’ll figure this out.”
“You forgot me. You didn’t ghost me.”
Her words drive ice picks through my chest. “Victoria.” My thumbs brush tears from her red, blotchy cheeks. “I would never, in a million years, ghost anyone. Let alone someone as beautiful as you.”
She casts her eyes at the floor, and my heart splinters. What’s going through her head? What misbeliefs about herself has she held onto for the past couple years that are untrue all because I hit my head and forgot who she is?
“He’s mine, isn’t he?”
Wide eyes flicker back to my face. “H-how?”
“Saw you with a kid that looks very much like me at Maid-Rite. He’s mine?”
She sniffs, reaching around me to a napkin on the table to blow her nose. “Wyatt. But I didn’t know who you were.” She shrugs. “To be honest even if I did I thought you ghosted me, so I probably would have kept your name off the paperwork.”
I have a son named Wyatt.
“I’m not ready for you to meet him.” She shakes her head. “This is a lot. Too much. I-I need to process.”
Nodding, I can’t help but agree. It’s a lot for both of us.
“Are you okay enough to fill in some of the blanks for me? Or do you need some space and time to clear your head first?”
Her gaze flits to the table. “I really want pie.”
A girl after my own heart. My stomach rumbles in response, and she laughs. The sound is glorious after the past few minutes of gut wrenching tears.
She sits, but I stay standing, half poised to tackle her if she makes a run for it.
“Sit down, Raffi. I’m not going to leave.”
Slowly, I lower my ass onto the chair and relish the yummy sounds she makes after she takes a huge bite. Leaning towards me with a smile, she points her fork at me. “You know, Megan might make better pies than Brian did.”
Wow. There’s no higher accolade. Brian’s pies are unrivaled.
She narrows her eyes at me. “You called me Victoria.”
“I did.” I carve a giant bite from my slice of pie. “Is that not okay? I feel like you’re more Victoria than Tori, but if you hate Victoria…”
