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“Do you mind if I sit?”
“Of course, have a seat,” I respond, shrugging, as though having her in my condo isn’t a big deal.
Which it actually is.
A huge deal.
“I think we need to talk,” she starts.
I move to stand near the couch where she’s sitting.
“And I don’t think we need to at all,” I say in response. “I think we’ve already said everything that needed to be said.”
She huffs out a breath in frustration. I can see her irritation clearly on her face. I’m not in the mood to play nice. Whatever she needs to say, she needs to say it. And then she needs to get out.
“As you can see, I’m pregnant.”
“I think we established that earlier,” I say rudely.
“Don’t you have anything to say about that?”
“What do you want me to say? Congratulations?”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” she asks, exasperation and surprise showing on her face. “I tell you I’m pregnant, and your response is to congratulate me?”
Her voice raises several octaves with the last question.
What does she want me to say? That I’m happy for her?
Well, I’m not happy for her. I’m pissed. And hurt. And this conversation is doing nothing but making me angrier. It takes some real nerve to come into my apartment like this, carrying another man’s baby.
“You’re obviously trying to tell me something here. How about you just spit it out? Do you need help with the baby? Is the father not helping or something?”
A flicker of disbelief crosses her face, replaced by an expression of shock. She parts her lips as though she wants to say something, but nothing comes out. Using the arm of the couch, she pulls herself to a standing position.
Liz looks at me steadily, unblinking, and crosses her arms over her chest. The look she levels at me is as serious as I have ever seen.
“You asshole. The baby is yours.”
“That’s not even remotely possible,” I spit back automatically, not bothering to think about my words. But I don’t need to think about what I’m saying. There’s no way that baby is mine, and for her to try this shit is unbelievable.
“Do you not recall that we’ve slept together on multiple occasions over the last year and a half? Do you not recall our last time together was seven months ago? Not only is it possible, but it’s the truth. I can’t believe you’re even questioning this.”
Looking at her flushed, impassioned face reminds me of our last time together. We had just had amazing sex and were cuddling in bed. That’s when she said she wanted a committed relationship, and I told her I didn’t.
Yes, it was about seven months ago.
So what if the timing is right? “And do you not recall that I wore a condom? Like I said, it’s not even remotely possible. I don’t believe you.”
I’m so pissed that she’d lie like this. To pawn another man’s child off on me? I never would’ve thought she’d have tried something like that.
I never should’ve trusted her. She plays a good game. She had me convinced that she was nothing like my ex.
“Condoms aren’t a hundred percent, and you know that, Ethan.”
“They’re damn near a hundred percent, and you know that.” I look at her and can’t help the suspicion that creeps into my voice. “If this is about money, all you had to do was ask. I would’ve helped you out. But to lie to me like this? You aren’t the first woman to try this shit, and I’m sure you won’t be the last. You might think millionairesmake easy targets for payouts, but you’ll soon find that isn’t the case.” I level a frosty look at her, daring her to continue with the lie.
While looking at me in disgust, she stands but then immediately stops. She is now frozen in place. “I think I need to sit down,” she says as her face drains of any color.
