She smirks. “My father told me Serenity was in labor.”
“Mother, he shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know if the baby’s mine.”
She stretches her arms out. “Give me the baby.”
I place him in her arms. She glances at the bassinet, reading the information. “Madden, you’re so handsome.”
His eyes flutter open then close.
“You look just like your father when he was born.”
My heart lurches in my chest. “Mom, I’m waiting on the paternity test.”
“That’s fine. He’s yours. What are your plans?” She asks.
“As you know, I’m at war. So it’s best he remains in Italy. When the war is over they can join me in the U.S.”
“Does she know you know about the baby?” Mom asks.
I sit beside her. “No,” I sigh. “Mom?”
Her eyes light up. “Yes?”
“I tampered with her birth control. I got her pregnant.”
She kisses my cheek. “Don’t worry. In time you will marry her. You have to.”
I brought my mom up to speed on what happened to Serenity when she was fourteen. And how she told me she didn’t want kids after I had already tampered with her birth control pills.
“Poor girl,” Mom says. “She’s strong. This baby has the right parents. You’ll both fight for this child.”
“Hopefully, she’ll let me in.”
“Nico, you’ll have to force her hand.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, staring at my son as he sleeps peacefully.
I will bring my family together in due time.
NICO
One hand’s shoved in my jeans pocket, the other rakes through my dark hair continuously as I peer out the condo window. I’m leasing this place for the foreseeable future. Even if Madden isn’t my son, I’ll still return. It’s beautiful here. Pedestrians stroll through the streets, chatting and sipping their espressos.
No suits today. Just a t-shirt and jeans. This is a time of leisure. Something I rarely get. But I’m forcing myself to take time for me. In the back of my mind, I think about what would happen if I went for a jog and ran into Serenity. That would be awkward.
Lune peeks in and announces, “Dr. Calhoun has arrived.”
I give a slight nod.
Lune gestures her inside. She strides over to me. I reach out, grasping her hand. “How are you?” I ask.
“I’m well. And you?”
“Honestly, a bit nervous,” I respond.
“Please have a seat.”
She settles onto the white sofa.
