“You know what.”
“I need to hear it.” My voice came out low, almost guttural. I was trying to stay calm, but with every second that passed, I felt closer to unraveling. “Because right now, I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind.”
One of her hands fisted gently in the fabric of my shirt, like she needed something to hold onto. Her eyes searched mine, and she gave the smallest shake of her head. Whether it was in denial or fear or panic, I couldn’t tell.
“Dani.” My pulse thundered in my ears. “Are you having my baby?”
Her lips parted, and for a second, I wasn’t sure the words would come out.
“Yes,” she whispered. “It’s yours.”
There it was: the truth laid bare between us.
Dani’s having my baby.
I let out a slow breath, trying to keep the floor steady beneath my feet. She was still right there in front of me, still holding onto my shirt like she needed me, even though we both knew that wasn’t the case. But her eyes told me that she was already starting to retreat. I saw it in the way her shoulders tensed, the way her lips trembled.
“Fuck, Dani,” I said quietly. The breath I let out was shaky. I scrubbed a hand over my mouth, unsure what to do with any of this. The weight of it. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
Her breath hitched—just barely, but it was enough.
I knew I’d fucked up the second the words left my mouth. They were too sharp, too raw, too much like an accusation when what I should’ve offered her was comfort.
Her expression crumpled. “I was going to,” she said quickly. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you for weeks—”
“You’ve known for weeks?” I asked through gritted teeth. This just got worse and worse.
She winced. “Okay, that sounds bad, but I swear, I was going to tell you. And it was not supposed to be like this. But now that you do know, I just want to make it clear that you don’t owe me anything. I’m not expecting you to drop anything for me. Or us, I guess.”
Excuse me.
“Seriously, you don’t need to be involved at all if you don’t want to be.”
She said it like she was doing me a favor, like letting me off the hook was some kind of gift. Now, I was pissed for a completely different reason.
“You don’t get to say that,” I snapped, stepping away from her. “You don’t get to decide what kind of father I want to be.”
She opened her mouth, probably to argue, but I wasn’t finished.“I already have a kid. I already know what this whole thing looks like, how much it means. I’m not some one-night stand you forgot to text the next day. Youknowme. You should know I don’t walk away from shit like this.”
I gestured between us.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t want this?” I asked. “That I wouldn’t want you?”
Her mouth dropped open at my directness. I couldn’t blame her—it was probably the most words I had ever strung together at once. Definitely not my smoothest move either, but there was nothing smooth about this situation.
This was a fucking mess. And I was in deep.
Her arms wrapped around the slight swell of her belly.Our baby. Fucking Christ, she was growing our child. Which reminded me—
“Can I see?”
She flinched when I reached for her hand. More specifically, for the now crumpled photo clutched between her fingers.
All the fire and panic inside me cooled into something heavier. Something sadder. Dani wasn’t trying to punish me; she was trying to protect herself—from hope, from heartbreak. From me.
And that was the deepest cut of all.
She followed my gaze, and a flicker of understanding passed across her face.
