Page 6 of Echo’s Secret

"You want to sit?" Wesley asks.

I nod and sink into one of the chairs facing the desk. Theo immediately tries to twist around to see Wesley better. I let him turn, supporting his back with my arm.

They stare at each other. Father and son. One a dangerous biker, the other teething and drooling on his mother's shoulder.

"He has my eyes," Wesley says. Not a question. A statement.

"Yes." My voice comes out steadier than I feel. "His name is Theo. Theodore, actually, but I call him Theo."

"How old?"

"Eight months."

Wesley does the math. I watch him do it. Watch the exact moment he realizes when I would have gotten pregnant. When I would have known.

"You were pregnant when you left." Still quiet. No anger in his voice, which somehow makes it worse.

"I didn't know," I say quickly. "Not when I left. I found out two weeks later. I took a test because I was late and..." I trail off, looking down at Theo's dark hair. "I didn't know what to do."

"You could have called me."

"I didn't know how." It sounds like an excuse even to my own ears. "I heard things, Wesley. About what you do. About the club. I saw your vest and looked up what that meant. I knew you were involved in something dangerous and I didn't want to—" I stop, trying to find the right words. "I didn't want to drag you into something you didn't ask for. I thought I could handle it myself."

"Handle what?" Now there's an edge to his voice. Not loud. Wesley is never loud. "A baby? Our baby?"

"Yes." I meet his eyes. "I've been handling everything else my whole life. I thought I could handle this too."

He pushes off the door and moves closer, crouching down so he's at eye level with Theo. My son watches him with solemn attention. Wesley lifts one hand slowly, not threatening, just reaching, and Theo grabs his finger with tiny fists.

The expression on Wesley's face is something I've never seen before. Wonder, maybe. Or fear. Or both at once.

"Why are you here now?" he asks, still watching Theo. "You said you needed help. What kind of help?"

This is the part I've been dreading. The part where I have to admit just how badly I've failed at handling everything myself.

"Theo is sick," I say, and my voice breaks on the words. "He was diagnosed three months ago with a congenital heart defect. It's serious. He needs surgery. Specialized surgery with a pediatric cardiac surgeon, and then ongoing treatment and monitoring for years probably."

Wesley's head snaps up. "How serious?"

"Very." I blink back tears because I've been crying for three months and I'm so tired of crying. "He could die without the surgery. And even with it, he'll need constant medical care. Medications, checkups, maybe more procedures down the line."

"When is the surgery?"

"Two weeks. We have a date scheduled at a children's hospital three hours from here. They're the best in the region. The surgeon is one of the top pediatric cardiac specialists in the country." I swallow hard. "But I can't afford it. I've sold everything I own. I took a second job. I maxed out credit cards I didn't even know I could get approved for. I'm still thousands short and the hospital won't operate without payment guarantees."

Wesley stands slowly. Theo still has his finger. "How much?"

"Forty-two thousand." The number sounds impossible. Insurmountable. "After insurance, which barely covered anything because the policy I have is basically worthless. I've raised maybe eighteen on my own. I need the rest by next week or they'll postpone the surgery and I can't—" My voice cracks completely. "I can't wait. The doctor said his heart is getting weaker. Every week we wait is another week something could go wrong."

Silence falls over the office. I hear voices from the main room. The other bikers talking, someone laughing, the normal sounds of people who aren't watching their world collapse.

Wesley pulls his finger gently from Theo's grip and walks to the desk. He sits on the edge of it, facing me, and his expression is completely unreadable.

"You should have told me,” He says. "When you found out. When he was diagnosed. Any point before you ran out of options."

"I know." Tears are falling now and I can't stop them. "I know I should have. But I didn't want you to think I was trapping you. We weren't together anymore. You didn't sign up for a baby. I thought I could figure it out alone the way I've always figured everything out alone."

"We grew up in the same place, Hannah." His voice is softer now. "Sacred Heart taught us both that being alone was safer. That counting on people meant getting hurt. But I'm not them. I'm not the system. I'm not someone who would have walked away."