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He studies me. “Or maybe I’m waiting to run into the right woman.”
His deep voice has my loins stirring, and I see the shift in his eyes as he watches me with renewed interest. “Yes, well. There’s a wishing fountain in the Chinese restaurant across the road. I can loan you a quarter.”
“Your personality hasn’t changed a bit,” he comments, the corner of his lip tugging up in that half smile of his that makes me tighten the leash on myself.
I don’t say anything.
He is wrong.
I have changed.
I am no longer that reckless young woman I was five years ago. Parenthood changed me. My barbs have less bite. I softened a lot.
“Tomorrow’s Friday. You can swing by for dinner.” I scribble the address on a piece of paper and hand it to him. “Bring a Pocahontas Barbie doll. She’s missing it from her Disney princess collection. She’ll adore you.”
Zayn stills. “Why are you being so helpful? I thought you hated the idea of me being in Mila’s life.”
I give him a wry look. “I don’t want to be hostile towards you. Kids are very impressionable. If you can be a good father to Mila, why would I want to deprive her of that?”
Zayn runs his fingers through his hair, which is cut short, and he gives me a curious look before turning to leave. “I was wrong.”
“About what?” I ask with an arched eyebrow.
“You have changed.”
After he leaves, I glance at the clock.
Ten in the morning.
I pick up my cell phone and dial a number.
“Hi, it’s Dan. We’re out now. Leave us a message and we’ll call you back.”
I sigh, and say softly, “Hey, Dad. It’s me. Just, uh, calling you again to see how you’ve been. I emailed you a picture of Mila. She drew a picture, and I sent it as well. She’s turning out to be great. I never knew how hard parenthood could be. I’m also well. How are you? And Mom? Just, uh, call me back. It’d be nice to hear your voices.”
My hands shake as I end the call.
Staring at the number as the screen turned black, I know I won’t be receiving a call.
This loneliness is like a pit that I can’t seem to crawl out of.
3
Zayn
“You? A father?”
Six pairs of incredulous eyes are on me, and I feel irritable. “It’s not like I planned it.”
Agatha smirks at Ian. “Funny. That’s usually the girl’s line.”
Ian cracks a wan smile before he sobers up. “Did you ask for a paternity test?”
I rest my elbow against the mantelpiece of the fireplace and lean over to adjust the photo of Alexandria, Philip, and Charlotte’s daughter that they insisted I have. “She looks like a exact copy of me. And I have a feeling that if I ask for a paternity test, she’ll be more than happy to deny me. She doesn’t think I’m good father material.”
“Bitch,” Agatha hisses softly and Sarah frowns as well.
Charlotte looks down at the baby nestled in her arms and gives Philip a reluctant look. “I don’t agree with her, but I can’t fault her for trying to protect her child.”
