Delilah stares at me. "But—how? When? Who?" She pauses, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Was it Kevin the accountant?"
"No. Yes." I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Kevin the accountant is a fraud."
"The mystery man from the bar? The one who vanished like a ghost?"
"The very one."
"Hannah." She reaches across the table and grabs my hands. "Okay. Okay, this is—we can handle this. Who is he? Where does he live? What's his number?"
The questions I've been asking myself for weeks tumble out of her mouth. Each one feels like a knife twist. It’s a little blow to my ego to know the guy vanished and never made an attempt to talk to me.
What I thought was an amazing night, clearly meant nothing to him.
"I don't know," I say quietly. "I don't know anything about him. His name, his job, where he lives—nothing. I've looked everywhere, Delilah. Dating apps, social media, professional networks. It's like he doesn't exist."
"Everyone exists online," she says. "You just haven't looked in the right places yet. What about the hotel? They have to have records?—"
"I tried that. They said the room was paid for in cash, no name on file." I felt like an idiot asking, but desperation makes you do stupid things. "He's a ghost."
Delilah sits back, processing. I watch her face cycle through emotions—shock, anger, determination.
"What a dick," she says finally. "Who does that?”
"Apparently, the father of my child."
The words feel foreign in my mouth. Father of my child. I'm going to have a child. With a man I don't know, whose real name I never learned, who left me alone in a hotel room like I was nothing more than a paid service.
"Okay," Delilah says, straightening her shoulders. "Okay, we're going to figure this out. What do you want to do?"
The question I've been avoiding. What do I want to do?
"I don't know," I admit.
I place a hand over my still-flat stomach. "I keep thinking about that night. How he looked at me, how he touched me. I thought there was a real connection. And then he just left. I felt so stupid for thinking it meant something."
"Hey. You're not stupid. He's the one who's stupid for walking away from you."
I will forever appreciate her for being my best friend. I know I can be a pain in the ass and a little neurotic.
"What if I keep it?"
Delilah's face softens. "Then you'll be the best single mom in Chicago. And I'll be the best honorary aunt. You won't be doing this alone."
"You'd do that?"
"Hannah, I'd do anything for you. You know that. But are you sure? This is a big decision."
"I know." I touch my stomach again, imagining what might be growing there. A tiny person with storm-blue eyes and jet-black hair. "I'm not sure about anything right now.”
"We'll figure out the rest as we go. That's what best friends are for, right?"
I manage a real smile for the first time in weeks. "Right."
"Besides," she adds, grinning, "I've always wanted to spoil someone else's kid rotten and then send them home to you when they're all sugared up and cranky."
Despite everything, I laugh. "You're terrible."
"I'm realistic. Now come on, let's get out of here. All this emotional revelation is making me crave retail therapy, and you need maternity clothes."
