And now we’re alone with the rain drumming softly on the red cedar deck stretching over the lake. A jittery clock with shiny brass hands ticks on the wall near the head of the table. Hazel sniffles, not meeting my eyes. There’s a big box of tissues back at the head of the table, but I’m not getting up to retrieve them.
“You okay?” I dig in my pocket and come up with a hankie I’m hoping is clean.
Hazel waves it away, sitting up straighter in her chair. “I’m fine.”
“Who the hell were all those people?” I bite back the question I’d rather ask, which is, ‘Why did they know you were pregnant before I did?’
Hazel hears it anyway. “I panicked when I found out last week.” She’s not meeting my eyes as she says it, her gaze drifting over the lake. “I texted Molly first. Dr. Moses—she’s an old friend, and I knew I could trust her to outline my options in confidence.” Drawing breath, she continues. “Nova Adison is an attorney who handles my family’s most sensitive legal matters, and Remi Rae is a PR professional specializing in content suppression and redirection.”
So I guessed right on the PR thing. Also— “What the fuck is content suppression and redirection?” Never mind. “You thought I’d go nuts and make a public spectacle?”
“I—I didn’t know what to expect.” Biting her lip, she looks down at the table. “I might not have handled this very well.”
“You think?” Shit, that sounds mean. “Look, I get that you got some life-changing news you didn’t expect. It happens. Surprises and fear don’t bring out anyone’s best.”
She stares without speaking, those liquid blue eyes searching my face like I’m a wild ape turned loose in her conference room. I keep talking to fill up the silence.
“I get it, you’re reeling. When the judge handed down my sentence, I broke out bawling like a big man-baby. Started yelling for my mom, sobbing on my sister’s shoulder when she tried to help the bailiff drag my sorry ass out of the courtroom.”
Hazel blinks. “Did you just compare prison to having a baby?”
Shit. “I was comparing the surprise of?—”
“Because this is precisely why I’d decided to do this alone.” She straightens in her chair like somebody poured liquid steel down her spine. “I’m having these babies, Luke. That’s my decision, and I’ve mapped out a plan so we won’t need to entangle our lives in any way, shape, or form.”
“Seriously?” Now I’m annoyed again. “You think having a child—two children; two actual humans who share my DNA—would be something I could just ignore? That I’d sign away my rights with no question? Is that how you thought this would go down, Hazel?”
That earns me another long blink. “I—well, yes.” Her throat bobs as she swallows. “That is what I’d hoped.”
Well now I’m really annoyed. “We don’t always get what we want, do we?”
Her icy eyes blaze. “This isn’t your decision.”
“Whether you carry the pregnancy to term? You’re right, it’s not.” I’m no legal expert, but I’m pretty sure this next part’s true. “If you’re having these babies, I get a chance to say how much I’m involved. And I want to be involved.”
Hazel’s jaw clenches. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”
Huh?
“Hayley Nixon,” she supplies. “You went together to Maxine and Samantha’s wedding. An overnight wedding, staying in the same roo?—”
“You’ve been stalking me?” I know for a fact Hazel wasn’t at that wedding. “That was months ago, and we dated just a few times. We didn’t even sleep together, in case you’re asking.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Okay then.” That was a weird turn. “I want to be a dad to these babies.”
“I—but—you can’t—” She stops herself there, regaining her bearings. “This wasn’t the plan.”
“Neither was pregnancy, I’m guessing.” The look on her face confirms it. “Look, life’s thrown both of us enough curveballs to prove we rarely get the perfect fucking picture in our heads.”
Her nostrils flare as her fingers curl into her palm. “This isn’t what I want.”
“Being shut out of my kids’ lives isn’t what I want.” Goddammit, she needs to hear this. “My father walked out when I was five years old. Do you have any idea how much it sucks to grow up without a dad? No way am I doing that to my own kids.”
“I—” Some of the ice water leaks from her voice. “I’m sorry to hear it. I didn’t know that about your father.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know much about him, period. Just that he liked the Seattle Seahawks and sarsaparilla soda.”
