Page 8 of Please Hate Me

He flashed a smile more infectious than the plague, and I hid my mouth behind my sleeve to prevent him from seeing my toothy grin. With my other hand, I scrolled through my phone to find the videos and photos from my most recent ultrasound.

“Here she is.” I offered him the device, and he hesitated a moment before gingerly taking it. “Lavender Joy Albright.”

It was a name Sebastian had picked. He was stepping up to father a child he didn’t make, so naming her was the least I could offer him.

He tapped the screen, zooming in on her face, “She’s beautiful… and I think she’s got your nose.”

I chuckled softly, watching his eyes light up with awe as he examined the ultrasound. Seeing him share in the excitement and joy of this moment brought a warmth to my heart that I hadn’t expected.

“Yeah, she has my nose,” I boasted before clearing my throat. I was being too loud, and that was part of what made me so easy to hate. So, I took a deep breath before continuing in a softer tone.

“She’s super active too. Anytime something touches my belly, she kicks at it.”

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the screen as he scrolled through the photos.

“It’s incredible,” he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. “To think that she’s growing inside you... It’s a miracle.”

I placed a hand on my stomach, feeling her come alive at my touch.

“It feels funny that I know her name but not yours,” he added.

We had fucked, yet we didn’t even know each other’s names. Probably not one of my brightest moments. After a brief consideration, I extended my hand toward him.

“Mason James Albright.”

His hand was softer than I thought it would be.

“Cameron Cole.”

“What, that’s it? No middle name?”

“Ain’t got one.” He shrugged.

“Well, Cameron Cole, it’s a pleasure to know your name, finally.” I withdrew my hand, feeling a newfound connection with him.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

Cameron and I launched into a surprisingly natural conversation as the plane took off. We talked about our backgrounds, interests, and hopes for the future. Engaging in a genuine conversation with someone who had no preconceived notions about me and saw beyond my public persona was refreshing.

As the hours passed, we continued sharing stories and laughter. Cameron’s dry humor matched mine, and his down-to-earth personality made me feel at ease. We discussed our careers, and I learned that being a pastor meant more than just talking to a group of people once a week. I asked him what else it meant, but he didn’t really elaborate. When it was my turn, I explained I was a musician, and Cameron wasn’t surprised. He said it just fit my personality. However, he seemed caught him off guard when I said I played violin. Apparently, he was expecting something a little more rock-and-roll. I didn’t want to let on exactly how well-known my music was. If he didn’t know I was a pop star, there was no harm in not telling him.

“So, I gotta ask, what do you got waiting for you in the States?” He chuckled.

It was a genuine question, but it felt like an insult.

“I have a boy waiting for me,” I whispered.

It was embarrassing that I had to travel over a thousand miles just to find someone who could tolerate me for more than a few years. Sensing my self-consciousness, Cameron squeezed my hand reassuringly. His touch brought comfort, and his warm gaze met mine.

“I hope he knows he’s a lucky man,” he said, sincerity plain in his voice. “You seem like a remarkable woman, and I’m glad my child has you as a mother—even if I’m not involved.”

Tears welled in my eyes as Cameron’s words touched my heart. At that moment, I realized I would never see this man, the father of my daughter, ever again. There would be no more coincidences to lead us back to each other.

“You shouldn’t say that stuff to a pregnant woman.” I looked up and wiped the tears from my eyes.

Cameron’s expression softened, and I could see he regretted his words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I managed a weak smile and nodded, trying to regain my composure.

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