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BRENTON
Iresponded to Helen’s text, telling her I’d be over in a couple hours. I wasn’t expecting a package, so it was either a mistake or a ruse to get me into bed. My heart sped up at the thought.
A couple hours later, I was on Helen’s doorstep ringing the doorbell, ready for whatever surprise she had waiting. But when the door opened, I found myself completely caught off guard. A small boy stood below me, looking up with piercing blue eyes. I looked up and a small blonde came out from the kitchen.
“Sabrina,” I gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“They lost the keys to the house. It’s been lovely meeting your fiancée and son, Mr. McLean,” Helen said to me from the living room, her tone ice cold.
“We have a lot to talk about, darling. And I’ve been waiting for you all day.” Sabrina grabbed her purse and the backpack from the hangers by the front door and met me outside. “Thanks for your hospitality, Miss?”
“Washington. Helen Washington. And you’re welcome,” Helen responded.
I tried to meet her gaze, so I could explain that this was all a huge misunderstanding, but she wouldn’t look up. With a quick motion, she stood and ushered Sabrina and Brian over the threshold. Still looking down, she closed the door with force, slamming the bolt into place.
“Damn it,” I muttered, then raised my voice. “What do you think you’re doing, Sabrina?”
“Let’s go inside and talk this out, Brenton.” Sabrina’s tone was snarky. She was up to something.
“How about we do it right here? I don’t want you in my home.”
“Little Brian here shouldn’t have to hear us arguing.” She covered his ears in what was clearly mock consideration.
“Fine. But you’re not staying longer than an hour.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I led them back to my house, reluctantly letting them inside. Samson was on them immediately, sniffing suspiciously.
“Ew. I never liked this dog,” Sabrina said, pushing him off of her and walking deeper into my home.
I showed Brian to my office and set a game up on my computer for him, realizing Sabrina had no intention of finding something to distract him.
“Alright, he’s out of earshot. Care to explain?”
“I just thought it was important for you to know that we have a son.”
“We do not have a son, Sabrina. What the hell are you talking about? There’s no way he could be mine.”
“Look at him. He resembles you, doesn’t he? He has your blue eyes.”
“No, he hasyourblue eyes.”
“He’s five, Brenton. Do the math.” She crossed her arms, seemingly sick of this conversation already.
“I don’t care how old he is! He’s not mine!”
“How do you know that, Brenton?I’msaying he’s yours!”
“Dad?”
I turned to find Candace looking down at us from the top of the steps.
“Sweetie, go back to your room. I’ll come up and explain later.”
“Explain what? That you have a son? Withher?” Her tone was glum and she looked betrayed.
“It’s not true, Candace. Let me sort this out first and then we can talk.” I ran my fingers through my hair, my eyes clenched shut in frustration.
