Page 28 of Fateful Exposure

Selma's chin rose in defiance, making me wonder why she was fighting so hard to push me away. Unlike many men, I'd chosen to stay and perform my duty to the baby. What was the problem?

Her heels clicked against the tiled floor as she closed the distance between us. Her face was twisted in anger, and her lips were curved downwards.

She pointed a finger at me, hitting my chest with each word. "Get it through your thick skull. This baby is mine. Only mine. You are nothing more than a sperm donor, and you're delusional if you think otherwise."

I gritted my teeth, the familiar sting of frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Christ, Selma. You suck the joy out of everything. Why are you so fucking stubborn?"

"Why are you so fucking persistent?" Even with how low she'd reduced her voice, her tone still had a puzzling urgency.

"Maybe if you stopped for a second to see that you can't do this alone, you'd understand that a baby needs its father."

She faltered then but only for a second. She bounced back with such speed that Barry Allen would have been jealous.

"I will be its father."

I scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."

"And don't be stupid, Ashton. This is what's best."

"For whom?"

"For the three of us!" Her chest heaved. "I will not let this baby come into this world knowing that their parents hate each other. I will not." Her voice cracked at the end, and her eyes were suddenly red-rimmed.

I blinked, completely taken off guard. Hadn't she been blowing angry air through her nostrils a few seconds ago? How did she go from that to tears?

And why on earth was the sight of her crying threatening to tear my heart out through my chest?

I didn't allow myself to think about it as I reached for her. She recoiled from my touch, wiping under her eyes.

"Are you okay, peaches?" I asked softly, suddenly unmotivated to continue the argument. Seeing her cry hurt me, and I hated it because I shouldn't have cared at all.

But I did. I cared very much.

"I'm fine." Her voice was like a whip crack, sharp and cutting.

"Okay." I raised my hands in surrender, hoping to diffuse some of the tension between us. "I believe you. Listen, peaches, I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm only trying to ensure my child gets the best out of life."

Her hardened gaze met mine. "I'm fully capable of giving that to them. I don't need you fucking up things."

"For someone who claims to hate me so much, you don't seem to hate it when I touch you or when I kiss you."

I watched as she fisted her hands at her sides, barely managing to contain her anger. "I'd say fuck you, but you seem to like reminding me that we've done that already. So, you can go fuck yourself."

"Hypocrite."

She searched through her bags for her keys, walking to her door. "Fuck face."

"Witch."

"Dickhead." She found the keys, put them in the lock, and turned them.

"You're not getting rid of me, Selma. Running away won't help either. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better for you."

The door opened, and she walked into her apartment, turning to face me as her face curled into a snarl. "And I thought being a father would change you and make you slightly less of a dick, but you're still the same arrogant, infuriating asshole you've always been. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better for you."

The door slammed in my face.

Well, that went well.I heaved out a deep sigh, wondering how I'd gotten myself caught up in such a tangled web. Then, as if I had no control over it, a low sound rumbled from deep inside me. It took me a few seconds to realize that I was laughing.

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