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“Aren’t you going to ask about Ferguson?”

I sighed and turned to face her. “I hoped I wouldn’t have to, that you’d just share with me.” And she hadn’t done that. “What did he want. Persephone?”

“He called a few days ago, actually he called last week ago too, but it was an unknown number and I just ignored it,” she clarified with a deep exhale. “He called again on my date night with Titus and I told him I didn’t have time to talk.”

I nodded at her explanation. “Why didn’t you tell me he called?”

She nibbled her lip and took a seat at the kitchen table. “I didn’t think it was anything worth talking about. I mean, what could he possibly want after all this time?”

I gave her an incredulous look. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” she shot back angrily.

“Persephone, you loved this man at one point in your life, enough to have a baby with him. What else would he want, but you and Titus?” It didn’t take a genius to figure that out, and I was pissed she was being so damn naïve about this.

“You’re wrong, Ryan.” She shook her head to punctuate her words, but when those beautiful eyes slid shut, I knew she was trying to convince not only me but herself.

But I was willing to play along, to help guide her to the answer the same way I always did. “Okay. What did he want?”

Slowly, Persephone opened her eyes, expression full of dread. “He wants to meet Titus, to be a part of his life.” Finally. The word was unspoken, but hung in the air between us.

“Why now?” As my grandpa always said, the devil is in the details, and in this case, it was actually the lack of details that was driving me mad.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“You were gone a long time.”

“That’s because I laid into him about barging into my life, expecting to see a son he has no right to see, all without an invite.”

I smiled at her words. “So you sent him back to Canada?”

“No.”

Which meant she planned to see him again.

Dammit.

Persy

“Sorry I’m late.” Megan’s words came out rushed as she removed her sweater and tossed it on the chair to her left along with her purse and sat with an anxious smile. “Hope you weren’t waiting long?”

“Not long,” I answered, distracted by Ferguson’s visit and my conversation two days ago with Ryan. “Everything all right?”

“Oh yeah, everything is fine. I’m late because I walked here so I could burn a few extra calories and feel no guilt about that mac & cheese burger I just ordered.”

A reluctant smile spread across my face. “No wonder Titus loves you so much. You have the palate of a six year old boy.” I shook my head. “How you stay so skinny is a secret I’d like you to divulge one day.”

Megan shrugged. “Run around a hot kitchen all day, burns all the calories.”

“You’re pregnant,” I remind her. “It’s okay to eat a little more.”

She nodded. “Emphasis on little. That burger is enough to feed me and the baby until he or she turns one.” The waiter arrived with our drinks, sparkling water for me and lemonade for her, and Megan waited until he was gone to pounce. “You didn’t call me here to talk pregnancy and calories, did you?”

“No,” I admitted on a sigh. “Ferguson. He wants to meet Titus, says he wants to be part of his life.”

“And you don’t want that?”

“Hell no,” I growled. “I don’t want him anywhere near either of us.” It was bad enough he’d walked away from me, but to walk away from our son was unforgivable.

Megan took another sip before she looked at me, straight on, and sighed. “Do you want to rant? Do you want to hear what you want to hear, or do you want the truth?”

I smiled. This was a new part of Megan’s personality since the accident, and I appreciated her straightforwardness. “The truth. Always.”

“Good. It’s up to you whether or not you want to hear him out, force him to lay out his plans for how he thinks being in Titus’ life will work. But just remember that you don’t owe him a damn thing. He gave up his rights to the kid, easily I might add. He’s been fine without him all these years, so if you told him to piss off and never return, that would be well within your rights.”

“I know,” I sighed. Megan was right, I didn’t owe Fergus a thing.

“But,” she added with a knowing smile. “There is the matter of an adorable violet-eyed boy who might want to know his father.”

“Exactly.” Every so often Titus did ask about his father, and I couldn’t bear the thought of him hating me if he ever found out I denied him that right. “The problem is that letting Ferguson into my son’s life because he’s curious about his dad, doesn’t feel like the right thing to do either. He’s already shown that he has no problem walking away, and this time it will hurt Titus.” And if he did that, I couldn’t be responsible for my actions.

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