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He claps his hands together, and I laugh.
“I bet you say that to all your customers.” I hug Antonio, say, “Ciao,” and walk out the door.
As soon as I get in view of the car, it immediately takes on the shape of an Italian meatball, and I can’t wait to get home and devour them.
I roll up to a stop light, feeling light. My therapist was right about beginning my nightly relaxation on my way home. By the time I get in, I am relaxed. I eat, take a hot bath, and crawl into bed, practically asleep as soon as I lie down. It has made a world of difference for me and the baby.
I have tried not to think about Aaron since I got back, and, well, it’s easier said than done. I think about him every day. I think about the last words we said to each other and how I waited all weekend for him to talk to me after the premiere. Instead, he shut me out. I can’t blame him. It’s all been such a shock. Everything happened simultaneously with his movie premiere, the fake engagement, and the real baby. I’m not sure I would have handled it any differently, to be honest. I just wish he would reach out, say something, anything, even if it’s goodbye. I just need to hear from him.
My phone buzzes, and I look down to see the caller ID. At the same time, I hear screeching tires.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Aaron
Furious.ThatiswhatI am doing right now. Angry, Erica tried to hide her pregnancy from me, raving mad to figure this out during my premiere, furious that now, once again, I’m all over social media and entertainment networks. I have to say; before I entered into this stupid lie with Erica, I had a pretty private life. No one seemed that interested in what I was doing or with whom. Maybe an honorable mention here and there, but that’s it. Today, I look out my front window and see photographers and bloggers waiting to pounce as soon as I walk out my door.
I ignore my phone, which is constantly dinging and buzzing. I’m sure many of those are from my publicist. She is going to kill me for hanging up on her. I stalk around my house, reviewing everything said last night. The one thing I keep returning is that I will be a father. I keep repeating it over and over. I’m going to be a father. At some point during my stalking rampage around my house, it finally sinks in, and so does the reality of the damage I’ve done with how I reacted to the news. I need to talk this over with someone; my brother is the only person I can talk to.
I pick up my phone, ignoring all the messages and voicemails, and call Scott. “Hey, brother, it’s me; call me back when you get this. I’m sure you’ve seen the media pages. Really need to talk.”
I toss my phone on the couch and continue wearing a path through the house. I can’t sit still. I’ve messed things up. When will I learn not to go with my emotions?
I peek out the window. Yep, the vultures are still here, waiting for their pound of flesh. Ridiculous.
My phone buzzes. It’s Scott. “Hey, Scott, thanks for calling me back so quickly. You’ve seen the news, I gather?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen it. You sure have led quite the public life lately for someone who prioritizes privacy.” I hear him chuckle. He’s not wrong.
“Well, let me clear the rumor mill up for you. The baby is mine.” I pause to let the news sink in.
“Congratulations. How do you feel about it?”
“Honestly, I’m scared to death. I’m furious about the way I found out. I guessed it in the middle of the premiere before she could tell me herself. Though I don’t understand why she waited to tell me. All of this publicity could have been avoided if she had.” I pause to take a deep breath. I can feel myself getting riled up again.
Scott spoke. “Well, I understand why she kept it to herself. You guys did lie about being engaged. Then a real baby comes along that neither one of you expected. Her career is on the line, and yours too. Maybe she wanted to talk about this in person instead of long distance. Gauge your reaction.”
I think about what he said. Sometimes he makes good points when he’s not being an asshat. “All of that makes sense. I made a mess of everything by getting mad at Erica.”
I choke back tears. Maybe I’ve lost Erica forever by reacting the way I did.
“So, what do you think I should do now?”
“You should probably go see her and have a conversation.” Butterflies start tickling my stomach.
It’s nerves. I shouldn’t be nervous, but I messed up, and now I must admit it. That is not my greatest strength.
“You're right; I should go talk to her. Thanks for talking this through with me, Scott.Sometimesyou have good advice,” I jab at him.
“Hey, I give good advice all the time. I am, after all, the big brother.” We have a good laugh at that and hang up.
Now that I know I am in love with Erica, I must let her know. The way we left things, though, I don’t know how well I’ll be received if I just pop over. I should script what I plan to say to not sound like an idiot.
I spend the next couple of days rehearsing what I’m going to say and working up the nerve to go see her. I’m sure her dad knows everything now and is none too happy with me. I decided to call first to assess the temperature and see how this might go. The call goes straight to voicemail. Well, here goes nothing. I choose to drive my own car versus taking an Uber. I will be rehearsing at her house and don’t need an audience.
The sky is a cloudless blue, and the grass is green from all the rain. I roll down my window and let the breeze calm my nerves. I take the side streets out of my neighborhood to Erica’s house. I pull into the driveway and wait for a beat before leaving. I don’t see photographers at her house, which is a good sign. I get out and knock on the door, wait impatiently at the door, and then knock again. This time, the door opens, and her dad is standing there. It’s funny; I don’t remember him filling a doorway like he is now. He seems much more significant than I remember him. I shrink back a bit and clear my throat. “Hi, Mr. Melvin. Is Erica home?”
I try to glimpse inside, but I can’t see around him.
