Page 27 of Her Cruel Bodyguard

I pick up my drink and sip, feeling his eyes swing back to watch me like I am a ghost.

“Did you hear me?” He gruffs, his voice a little too low, like he wished I hadn’t heard him.

I nod, chewing. “You have a son,” I bite again, chew, and then sip.

“Eva,” he turns so he is facing me, his eyes trying to interpret my body language.

But he won’t find the kind of information he is looking for.

“Is my father aware?” I bite again, knowing that if my father knows and Fabio is using it as an excuse, then I will shove the burger down his throat.

“No, just you,” he answers quietly, and a part of me hoards that information. The fact that he is telling me means a lot. I know this is the kind of secret Fabio would rather take to the grave than spill out. “How do you feel?”

“Fantastic,” I shrug, finishing my drink. “Life is beautiful, I woke up today feeling pumped, and here I am having the best meal of my life,” I bite angrily. “It’s a beautiful world, and the possibilities of a fulfilling life are endless…”

“Eva cut the bullshit, please,” he grits.

“You don’t get to tell me to stop,” I snap my fingers. “Help me, please.” He obeys and hands me the second coke.

“I didn’t want to bring you into this mess, you deserve better. You deserve a clean slate and I wanted to give that to you, at the very least. Which is why I can’t marry you.”

Blah, blah, blah.

I roll my eyes, chuckling at his half-baked excuse. Or a stupid attempt at trying to get me to see eye-to-eye with him on this one? It is my life, too. I should be given the chance to choose if I want what he has to offer or not. He shouldn’t make that decision for me. He should have done this long ago and asked me if I had any reservations, and my answer would have been the same as now. I don’t bloody care.

I wish I could tattoo it this instant on my forehead.

The perfect description for my state is stupidly in love.

“How old is he?” I throw the last piece of lettuce into my mouth.

“He is six,” he mumbles that part.

Six. I swing my head from side to side, dallying like my brain hasn’t done the math already that the boy was conceived the year of my eighteenth birthday. That hurts. Perhaps that is the actual truth, the one he is too afraid to tell. The one I have been too scared to think of.

He might have a woman with whom he has created a life.

“You have someone, a woman, a secret wife, or something?” I try to act nonchalant, but inside, I am butchered, and the pain is like hot spices sprinkling on every cut.

“No,” he bites out, his tone telling me he won’t elaborate, but if he knows what is best for him, he better start to.

“You were dating then?” My eyes sting, and my heart shrinks.

“Eva, no,” he grunts in a deep breath, dragging his hands over his face and then deflating his shoulders as he thinks of the best way to make this worse. “After that kiss… I was devastated and went home with the first woman I could find. Mindy got pregnant after what should have been a one-night stand, and neither of us wanted to abort the baby,” he flips his finger in the direction of the cup of coke in my hand, and I pass it to him.

He is not a coke person. This must be hard on him. He takes a sip, curses at the substance, and then passes it back to me.

“She has some health complications, and I wanted to have a child to call my own,” he inhales and exhales, clenching his teeth and fist. “I pay double the child support, so he never lacks for anything… well, he is already lacking in the aspect of a father figure, but I love Jake, I love him.”

I reach out to him, placing my hand on his clenched fist. He opens it and takes my hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb.

“Your father doesn’t know; no one does, and I would like to keep it that way,” he lifts the back of my hand to his lips and gives me the most tender kiss.

“If you have other reasons, start spilling because I am going nowhere, Fabio,” I lock eyes with him.

It is both a promise and a threat.

I dare him to try to make me go away again.

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