Page 45 of Return To You

Ah fuck, she swore, which means she’s real fucking angry.

I take a small step back, really valuing my balls now, and I say, “I know, believe me, I know I just…. Did you cheat, Rose?”

She shakes her head, her eyes filling with unshed tears, and states, “No, Noah, I never cheated on you.”

I nod, my own eyes starting to sting, and I look down toward my feet, but something catches my attention on her left wrist. Underneath the bracelet I bought her for prom, which she has to cut off to remove, my name is tattooed on her skin, with a small date below it.

Above my name is our son’s, and I can just make it out….

Diego….

Everything in me pulls. I stayed away for two days because I needed time to process the fact that I have a child, the fact that Gina most likely knew Rose was further along than four months and decided to lie, and why? To make Piper happy? For a pat on the back?

“He’s my son…” I whisper, my voice ragged.

Rose crosses her arms over her chest as tears trail down her cheeks, and the most hurtful look flows across her face.

She’s disappointed, and I don’t blame her. I’ve just confirmed to her that I never thought the child was mine.

She nods once, not opening her mouth.

I clench my jaw. “You never tried to contact me?”

It comes out as a question, but she hears the way I ask it, the blame in my voice, and I don’t mean to say it that way, I really fucking don’t; I’m just hurt and feeling fucking guilty.

“I did, Noah.” I suck in a breath at her anger, her rightful fucking anger. “I called you several times. I called your manager, Joel, who told me I’m not the first person to claim pregnancy and won’t be the last, I also called Barnett several times a day to the point he told me not to contact him again, and blocked me.”

I flinch. “Rose I….”

She shakes her head, and snaps, “No. I tried everything to contact you, and while I was coming to grips with the fact you left me without even confronting me, and that my own father kicked me out all because I refused to abort our child….” My eyes widen slightly before my nostrils flare with anger at her confession. She whispers, “I had to deal with the fact I was pregnant at seventeen and alone, all while you were partying it up with other women.”

I shake my head. “Rose, it’s not—I-I didn’t….”

She cuts me off, “I don’t care. I don’t want to hear your excuses. Why are you here, Noah?”

I look down with shame and mutter, “I’m here to try and get some answers, Rose.” I look at her. “I’m here because I want to get to know my son, and make amends….”

She shakes her head and goes to open her mouth when a cry can be heard, and I suck in a breath, knowing exactly who that is.

“Please, Rose,” I beg, my eyes on her door. I want to run in there, to hold him….

Rose doesn’t say anything; instead, she shuts the door in my face, and I bang my palms on the door frame, ready to break it the fuck down.

I did this,Ifucking did this.

Debating whether I should kick the door down or just sit and lean against the wall until she lets me in, the door opens again, and I look up, only to meet dark blue eyes.

I blink several times, trying not to cry, and stand up straight.

Slowly, Rose hands him over, and as carefully as I can, I take him from her and hold him to me. His hands go to my brow and lip piercings with curiosity, and I chuckle a little.

“Noah, meet your son, Diego Nicolas Scott, who will be one in a week.” I look at her in shock at his middle and last name, but she’s not looking at me. Instead, she’s looking at the boy in my arms, and she whispers, “You can be a father, but you and I, we were over the moment you got on that bus.”

I look at our son and see his eyes on me. I swallow hard.

She may think this is the way to go, but it's not. We were always meant to be. I fought for her when we were kids, and I should have fought for her two years ago. I made a mistake, a big one, but I’m not going to lose her. I refuse to lose her.

I press my nose against my son’s messy hair, and inhale.

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