Page 40 of Rejected Broken Mate

I shook my head. “You said you picked up plan b. And his father was someone from your old job.”

She bit her lip and shook her head.

And then the anger set it. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"You left me," she snapped back.

"That is not an excuse to keep a kid from me!" I yelled back. "You had a child, my child, and you didn't tell me!"

Her face went red. "How was I supposed to tell you, Miles? You left. You moved away, and I had no way to contact you!"

"You know damn well there were options!"

"You didn't give me many!"

"Don't put this on me!" I growled, and I watched fear fill her face. She took a step back, and I frowned. I quickly realized I'd never growled at her before. I ran a hand over my face, but as much as I was trying to remain calm, I couldn't.

"All this time, I could have known. You should have told me! When you moved here, you should have told me!"

She shook her head. "No. Michael has lived six years without you, and I'm not just going to suddenly throw you into the mix! Especially if you aren’t mature enough."

"I have a right! He's my son!"

Someone cleared their throat, and we both turned to see Ayden and Owen standing a few feet away.

She took a deep breath. "I hate to do this, but I need to get Michael home." I could feel her voice crack as she walked past them.

"Laura!" I yelled after her, but she practically ran away as fast as she could.

My heart was pounding in my chest, and I ground my teeth together.

Ayden and Owen looked like they didn't have words, but I knew they had heard everything. "He's mine," I practicallyyelled, throwing my hands up. "He's my son, and she didn't even tell me!"

I turned, hurrying off, needing to go and release my anger somehow.

Chapter 15 - Laura

"Mom?"

I jerked awake as Michael shook my shoulder. I blinked around the darkness until my eyes landed on him. He stood next to my bed, looking paler than normal. His pajamas clung to him, and I could tell he'd been sweating.

"Michael? What's wrong?" I said, rubbing my eyes and trying to sit up.

"I don't feel good," he said, looking out of breath.

I frowned, feeling my stomach dip. I reached a hand up, finding his forehead hot.

"You have a fever again."

He nodded. "And my body hurts."

I threw the covers back, swinging my legs over the edge of my bed. "Let's get you some medication to lower your fever," I said, placing my hand on his head as I turned towards my door.

I walked out and into the kitchen, grabbing the medication. I walked back with a glass of water having him take the pills. I then let him crawl into the bed. I crawled in next to him and felt him turn around, curling himself against me. "I'm sorry, sweetie," I said softly, whispering it to him as I ran my hands through his hair.

"It's not your fault," he said.

No. But it was my fault; it was just us. It was my fault he had a parent who had no idea what they were doing. It was my fault he didn't have a father who could maybe understand, someone who knew what was going on, someone who could relate, someone who knew what he was going through.

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