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“Like you said, I have every right to react however I want. If what you’re saying is true, then Elena’s been taking care of herself just fine for the past year. She doesn’t fucking need me and I’m not seeing her until I’m ready.”
Kiara’s expression is pinched. “What don’t you believe? That she was pregnant? That you have a baby?”
“I don’t know what to believe,” I state. “Right now, I’m exhausted and I want to head home. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and want to make sense of this fucked-up situation.”
“Okay,” Kiara says after a few seconds have passed.
“Okay, what?” I ask wearily.
“You said you’d be ready by tomorrow.”
Now I’m alarmed. “I didn’t say that.”
“I’ll talk to Lena. I’ll tell her you that you promised to show up tomorrow. And I’m not hearing any arguments,” she says, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“Kiara,” I try.
She gets to her feet, grabbing her purse. “I know this is hard, but we need you. She needs you.”
And with those words, she’s walking out of the café. I take a seat again, staring out the windows of the café as I allow myself to consider the possibility. It’s still crazy, but it’s Elena Legan—anything’s possible with her. The woman doesn’t do things by half and she certainly doesn’t look at situations like a normal person.
The drive home is silent and the rest of the night even more so. For the first time since I talked to Elena, I allow myself to think about her words. To ponder them seriously. Add that to Kiara’s speech and I’m forced to contend with the fact that they might be telling the truth.
By the time I wake up, the next morning, only one thought is ringing in my head.
Fuck. I might have a kid.
Which is what prompts me to call Elena. She picks up on the second ring.
“We need to talk,” I state.
I swear if I have to hear or speak those four words one more time. It’s been used more than in the past seventy-two hours than I care for.
“Where?”
“I’m not coming to the apartment. Meet me at the bar your brother took you to a few years ago.”
I’m sure she remembers the place I’m referring to. She doesn’t immediately answer, though.
“Alright. I’m guessing by the location you picked that you’re still not ready to meet her.”
There’s no need to ask which “her” she’s talking about.
“No. Just you.”
“Okay. See you at seven.”
She hangs up and I go about my day, dreading our meeting. I’ve been in gunfights and knife fights without issue, but a conversation with a woman about a baby is the one thing that actually scares me. I arrive at the bar ten minutes early and take a seat to wait for her. Thankfully, Elena arrives on time.
The door to the bar opens and she enters, wearing dark jeans, ankle boots, and a cream shirt. Her hair is in a ponytail. As she’s walking toward me, I want to hit myself. Because I’d be damned if she still isn’t the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen. I grit my teeth, reaching for my glass and throwing back a shot of whiskey. Elena, now standing in front of the table, eyes it wearily.
“Are you sure you should be drinking tonight?”
“Have a seat,” I gesture, ignoring her words.
She does so, nerves clearly displayed on her face.
“Your friend talked to me yesterday. She implored that I hear you out.”
