“I think it’s in there, but sure.”
Sofie opens the lid to the water bottle and hands it to him. “When was the last time you drank anything?”
“Not sure, but I’m good.” He grabs a remote and hits a button to recline his chair.
Nalani grabs a blanket from the chair beside him and hands it to him. “Get some rest.”
“Plan on it. Thanks, kid.”
“And call a doctor,” Sofie says … again.
“Will do,” he yawns out.
“Swear if you don’t, I’m stealing your chickens.” She threatens, and I bite back a laugh as Nalani drags her out the door.
“What is wrong with?—”
My phone rings, and I see Kyle’s name and quickly move down the hall and around the corner, Savannah’s seat in the other hand.
“Hello?”
“Well, good morning to you too,” he says, his tone slick and smug. “Took you long enough to pick up. I was starting to think you were avoiding me again.”
I close my eyes. “You never answered my message last night.”
“Yeah, because I figured we’d talk like adults instead of texting like teenagers,” he says, laughing under his breath. “You made it to New York, okay?”
“Yes,” I say, curtly.
“Good,” he replies, stretching the word into a sigh. “Then you can stop pretending this is such a big deal. You wanted to do the right thing. So, let’s do it. Let’s meet. I want to see her.”
I swallow hard. “Kyle, you didn’t want to be involved. You agreed to that. Agreed, it was better for everyone if I told her I used a donor.”
“Yeah, well,” he says, his voice shifting — sharp now, defensive. “That was before I saw her face. Before I saw that post.”
I feel my pulse in my throat. “You saw a picture, Kyle. That doesn’t erase the last several months.”
He laughs, bitter. “You really think I could just keep pretending she doesn’t exist? That’s cruel, even for you.”
“For me?” I echo, trying to keep my voice steady. “I told you. I didn’t want anything from you. No money. No name. No drama. You got exactly what you wanted.”
“I didn’t know what I wanted back then,” he shoots back. “You dumped all that on me over the phone. What was I supposed to say? ‘Sure, I’ll be a dad to a baby of a woman I barely know’? You weren’t even asking — you weretellingme.”
“I was giving you the chance to decide,” I say. “You did.”
He exhales loudly. “You’re twisting this. You always twist things to make me look bad.”
“I’m not twisting anything,” I say quietly. “I’m stating facts.”
There’s a pause. I can almost hear him running a hand over his face, that impatient exhale I used to think meant he was overwhelmed—not realizing it meant he was done listening.
“I just want to meet her,” he says, suddenly calm. “One hour. No lawyers. No drama. Just me getting to hold my kid.”
“She’s not a prop, Kyle,” I say, my voice soft but firm. “You don’t get to play dad for an afternoon to ease your guilt.”
“I’m not guilty,” he snaps. “I’m trying tostep up.You should be grateful for that.”
“Grateful?” I repeat, my heart pounding. “For what — months of silence and you demanding that I meet you in New York?”
