Page 110 of Crazy for this Girl

This is what you get for focusing on Laynee and not what was sitting right in front of you.

“You must’ve been a patient guy to wait around while she fucked someone else.”

Fuckhead smirks and then shrugs like it’s no big deal. “It was hard. When he proposed, she wanted to say no. Over a year and a half of planning a wedding and pretending she was excited. She said she faked it half the time.”

Oh, well, at least it was half the time.

“She died in the car on the way over to me,” he continues as if I needed to know more. In a way, I guess I do. However, it doesn’t hurt any less, and the level of idiot that I am and was is evident as ever now.

“We were going to start picking out names for the baby.” My chest tightens because we had already done that.

River Mae.

What the fuck was she going to do? Put the wrong name on the birth certificate, like I wasn’t going to care?

“What about the other guy?” I ask through my own inner civil war to not press any more stupid ass questions. “What if they picked a name already.”

“They did,” he replies with zero remorse in his tone. “River. What the fuck is that?”

The place where Leslie and I met.

“Anyway,” assclown digresses with a strained exhale. “It’s over now. Her, our baby, the life—”

“How do you know it was yours?”

Another mindless chuckle escapes his chest. “Dude, trust me, I didn’t think it was. She and him got into a fight and he took off to go out of town on business. She conceived then, I guess.”

I stare down at the gray marble of her name. “How could you be so sure?”

“She promised.”

You’re more of a fucking moron than me.

“Seems legit,” I ground out.

It’s amazing that he allowed her to be with another man when she was his so-called “love of his life.” I’d never allow Laynee to be with anyone if she was mine. No man would even be able to try it.

“Eh, honestly, I guess I would’ve been able to tell when she gave birth to it, ya know?”

My eyes narrow. “You mean her? The baby was a her.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’d know.” He bobs his head as if he’s trying to convince himself of these non-existent superpowers that he’d just know he was the father. “I’d know if that was my kid. You her brother?”

My gaze flicks to him. A fucking kid. “She doesn’t have a brother.”

“Yeah, she does.” I drop the flowers in my hand because I officially can’t hear any more of his fucking bullshit.

I guess that throws my guilt out of the water because I don’t feel it anymore. I know for a damn fact I’ll never visit Leslie again and that I made the right decision in burying my daughter in California.

Fuck, if it’s my daughter.

“Did she get a DNA test?” I ask as dickhead looks down at my discarded flowers.

“Uh…I don’t know. I don’t think so. She didn’t want the other guy to find it.”

“What was your name again?”

His brown eyes flick to mine. “Logan.” His lips curl in a nervous smile, as they should. “You never told me who you were.”

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