“Hey.” Her voice is calm.
Which somehow made the conversation feel less explosive than the first one.
“Hey,” I say.
There is a brief pause.
“I figured you might call,” she says.
“I have had some time to think.”
“Okay,” she says.
“I want to do a paternity test.”
“Okay,” she says.
The lack of resistance catches me off guard.
“You’re not upset?”
“No,” she says. “I expected it.”
I exhale slowly.
“If she’s mine, I want to meet her.”
Sydney doesn’t speak for a second.
“I don’t know what being involved looks like yet,” I continue. “But if she’s my daughter, I want to know her.”
“I understand,” she says.
“And Sydney,” I add carefully, “I need to be clear about something.”
“Okay.”
“I am seeing someone.”
Silence stretches briefly.
“That’s great, Everett,” she says, sounding confused.
“If you’re telling me about Emily because you think we might be able to start over…”
“That’s not why,” she interrupts.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Her voice softens. “I’ve been with someone for two years. His name is Chace.”
I don’t know why, but I have this sudden protective feeling for Emily.
“Is he around Emily a lot?” I ask.
“Every day,” she says. “He’s a good guy, he is a chef at a restaurant here in LA, Emily adores him. You don’t need to worry,” she reassures me.
