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A few months into...the affair —I have to call it for what it was—Emily wrote that she was pregnant. I had planned to break it off the next time I saw her because your mother and I were finally doing better. We were working on our marriage, saw a counselor once a week, and I wanted to be there for you and Audrey—be the father you deserved.
Shortly before, I had also found out she was married, so of course, I questioned her if the baby was mine. We met, and she showed me proof that her husband was unable to father a child. She agreed to have a paternity test once the baby was born, and I told her that if the baby were, in fact, my child, I would be there for it. I would support her and the baby in any way I could, but the affair had to stop.
Emily seemed to understand and be agreeable. Lilly was born, and I got the confirmation that the little girl was my daughter.
Buzzzzzzz, buzzzzzzz.
My eyes jerk to my phone sitting next to me. I quickly pause the video, not to miss anything.
Buzzzzzzz, buzzzzzzz.
I want to ignore whomever it is. I need to know what else Brooks has to say. But when I glance over, the one name that could make me drop everything flashes across the screen.
Buzzzzzzz, buzzzzzzz.
My heart skips a beat, and my hand flies to the phone. I answer the video call immediately.
When the connection is established, the screen is entirely black. Uh.
"Rhys?" I say hesitantly.
"Shit. Hold on." The rustling of the comforter comes through the speaker before his bedside lamp clicks on. "Sorry."
I don't respond; I just drink him in. He's as gorgeous as ever, and my belly flip-flops at the sight. His hair sticks up in all directions as if he just woke up. God, I miss him so much.
Rhys cocks his head, studying me. "Are you okay? You look out of it. Did you cry?" His concern gives me hope.
He still cares.
"Yes. No. I..." Instead of mentioning the video, I say, "You didn’t answer your phone earlier." I try not to sound accusing but fail miserably. I am so high-strung from my discovery that my emotions are a ginormous cluster fuck.
Rhys sighs. "I know." He's glancing past the screen, and I picture him looking at the TV on the other side of the room. When his eyes find mine again, he says, "I wanted to. Wes was here. He's been on babysitting duty since D is gone. He saw that you were calling and took my phone."
A pang hits my chest. "Why?"
Why did he take the phone? Does he hate me, too?
"I made him promise not to let me talk to you. I needed time to clear my head, and when I hear or see you..." He lets the sentence trail off.
Needles prick in the back of my throat, and I press my lips together. It takes me almost a whole minute before finding my words again. "I'm so sorry. I should've never forced you to keep my secrets. I was selfish and didn't think twice about the position I put you in."
I want to apologize more, but how many times can one say it before it loses its meaning?
The corner of Rhys’s mouth tilts up. "I get it, Cal. And I can’t really fault you for it. Think about everything you’ve been through."
"You're doing it again," I tell him through the tears.
"Doing what?" He’s genuinely confused.
A laugh bubbles up between my sobs. "Being understanding."
"Ah, what can I say?" He full-on smirks.
"Are we—?" I start in a whisper.
His eyebrows draw together. "Are we what?"
"Are we, uh...still together?" I sound pathetic, but I can’t help it. I can’t lose him. I need to find a way to tell him how much I regret my actions.
