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“All I mean is that—”
“I know what you mean,” she cut in. “You want me to tell you the whole sad story so you can apologize and maybe assuage your guilt. But I have no desire to relive the last year. Other than having Jeremy.”
“Fine.” I would have to switch tactics because being patient wasn’t working. “Let’s talk financial support. I’m going to start a trust fund for him, so no matter what happens to me—personally, financially, professionally—he’ll always be covered.”
“Okay.”
“And then I’d like to do something to ease your current financial burden. Tell me what you need. Will fifty thousand cover the last year?”
She blinked, obviously startled.
Thank god I finally had her attention. And not in a bad way.
“Fifty… thousand?”
“Yeah. I’ll have to talk to my accountant to figure out the best way to give you that money without tax implications for you, but if we can’t, I’ll just pay whatever taxes you’re responsible for. But that’s back pay. Going forward, I’d like to make sure you’re comfortable.”
“I… the biggest thing would be for you to pay for daycare so I can get a regular job and not have to wait tables every weekend.”
I frowned. I had no business telling her what to do, but I didn’t want Jeremy going to daycare full time.
“Aunt Meg isn’t able to care for him?” I asked softly. I remembered her telling me about her struggles with MS.
“She’s better, but she still falls sometimes. When I absolutely have to leave him with her during the day, we use that bassinet over there.” She motioned with her head. “It rolls. So she doesn’t carry him more than a few feet. At night, he usually sleeps the whole time I’m at work, but if he does wake up, she brings bottles upstairs and it’s only a couple of feet from the crib to the bed.”
Damn. This had been so much harder than I’d thought. I knew they’d struggled, but I hadn’t realized how much. And I also didn’t understand why she was waiting tables instead of working a regular job now. I had so many fucking questions, but I had to tread carefully.
“I can pay for daycare. I can also pay for you to stay home and take care of him. There are lots of remote jobs out there. What if you looked for something like that? You have a degree now, right? So—”
“You really have no clue, do you?” she asked, jumping to her feet and starting to pace. “You walked out of the Pullman Resort without looking back and never gave a second thought to what you did to me.”
“Actually, I—” I began.
“Shut up.” She glared at me. “Did you know you got me fired?”
Crap. I’d had no idea.
“I didn’t say anything—” I tried again.
“I said to shut up.” She had her hands on her hips, and though her voice was low, there was no mistaking the malice in her words. “Someone overheard you yelling at me and told my boss. He fired me for using my proximity to a guest to get an interview for my little school project.” Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she continued, bitterness now overshadowing her anger. “And because I didn’t get the interview, I failed my final project. So I didn’t graduate or get my degree.”
Fuck me loud. What had I done?
“I had twenty-four-seven morning sickness the entire nine months, so I could only work part-time, and by my fifth month, I couldn’t wait tables anymore. All I could do was hostess, which pays nine dollars an hour. Working twenty hours a week, you do the math. Aunt Meg’s meds alone are over a thousand dollars a month. Her disability checks barely cover the utilities and taxes on the house, and barely any of her meds are covered. If I don’t work, we don’t eat. And for a lot of my pregnancy, she didn’t eat because she wanted me to be healthy for the baby.” Tears squeezed out of her eyes. “I’ll be paying off the hospital bill until I’m ninety. Do you know how much delivering a baby costs when you don’t have insurance?”
“I’ll pay for it,” I said, my chest tight with emotion.
“Good. You should. And we need a new roof.”
“Okay.” At this point, I’d essentially sign over my royalty checks if it would get her to stop crying.
“You ruined my entire life,” she hissed. “And I don’t know how we can move forward, not even for Jeremy.”
“Presley.” I desperately wanted to reach for her, but she’d taken a step back.
“You can stay with the baby as long as you like. I’ll send Aunt Meg down in case you need anything, but I can’t talk to you right now. I’m still too angry and the pain is too raw. I’m sorry.” She turned and practically ran up the stairs. A moment later I heard her door slam.
This wasn’t how I’d thought things would go, and I hated that meeting my son was being overshadowed by how much I’d hurt his mother. Even if we weren’t going to be a couple, I didn’t want there to be this kind of animosity. And I never, ever wanted Jeremy to know how I’d treated her. With the exception of losing my temper that morning after we slept together, nothing else that had happened was my fault, but if I was honest, none of the other things would have happened if I hadn’t lost my temper.
