Page 28 of Halo

Suddenly, I’m twenty-six again, sitting at a coffee shop with my best friend’s ex-girlfriend—well, my former best friend.

‘Nick, I’m pregnant …’

‘... you’re the father …”

The father.

“I’m sorry.” I rub my tightly shut eyes, bringing myself back to the present. “What did you say?”

“I-I’m so sorry, Nick. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Her voice cracks with tears.

“I … I don’t understand.” This isn’t happening. “But … we were careful—”

“I know, but—”

“How old is he?”

She lets out a shaky breath. “He just turned five in July.”

“Five?” The edge in my voice attracts a few wayward glances. I lower my voice. “I have a fucking five year old son?”

“I know—”

“Tiffany, what in the actual fuck?” I hang my head in my hands, my fingers pulling at my hair.

“I’m sorry, Nick. God, I’m so sorry. I … I didn’t know what to do—”

I jolt up. “Didn’t know what to do? How about you fucking tell me!” I blow out a heavy breath, willing myself to calm down as my own emotions prick at my eyes. My hands relax from their fists, but my mind can’t seem to find purchase. “I have a five-year-old son?”

Swallowing thickly, she slowly nods as she quietly begins to sob.

Five years.

For five years, while I have lived my life saving lives, there has been a little boy with my DNA growing up in my city—in my own fucking backyard—without his father. Without me.

I missed his birth, his first word, his first scraped knee.

I don’t know his favorite color, his favorite television show, his favorite animal. I don’t know if he likes to sleep with a night light or take baths with toys and bubbles. I don’t know if he likes carrots, or if he has my eyes, or if he’s right-handed.

I don’t even know how to pick out his laugh in a crowd. Or his cry.

I peer back up at my son, see the cowlick that we share, his furrowed brow, the same one that stares back at me in the mirror every morning.

“And he’s mine?” I have to ask.

Tiffany wipes the mascara streaks from her cheeks. “Yeah, he’s yours. We can do a paternity test, if you want. I just … he needs his father now.”

He needed his father before he was born. “What’s going on? Is he in school?”

She nods. “He just started kindergarten, but he’s already having some learning problems. His teacher mentioned all of these ridiculous requests, like reading to him every single night. She suggested getting more adults involved.”

I huff a sardonic laugh. “So, you were never going to tell me about him.”

“And what, Nick? You were going to swoop in and be a man? Be a father to my kid?”

“Yes,” I bite back. “I’d swoop in and be the father to my kid … because my kid deserves it.” I curse under my breath, massaging my temple. “What do we do now? Do I need to get a lawyer or something—?”

“No. No lawyers.” She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe you should take a few days to actually think this through.”