Page 44 of Storm

“Ezra, I’d like you to throw yourself out of here. He’s capable of leaving on his own, which I’d like you both to do.”

I open my mouth to argue, but even in the darkened room, I can see the dark circles under her eyes. She looks exhausted, which must mean she’s not thinking clearly. That comforts me, not that she’s worn out, but it explains why she’s not seeing reason.

Now that we’ve talked, I do believe her that this situation we’re in wasn’t intentional, which alleviates a bit of my fears.

“Alright,” I saw, standing and straightening my clothes. “I’ll leave you to rest and we can reconvene this conversation in the morning before you head home.”

“She’s not going anywhere!” Ezra cries, scrambling to his feet and rushing toward her.

I don’t miss the way she leans away, so I put out my arm to stop him. “Enough, Ez. No more tonight.” Physically turning his body away, I push him toward the door, then over my shoulder, tell her, “There’s a lock on the inside.” Ezra chuckles, telling me it won’t keep him from entering, so I add, “Plus a deadlock toward the top, if you can reach. Goodnight, Miriam.”

A part of me wants to turn back and apologize in a different way, but that’s my dick talking. The rest of me refuses to grovel to someone who only has a twenty-five percent chance of carrying my child. Those odds are in my favor.

Just a little blip in my future plans that will be all sorted once a DNA test confirms I’m not the father. This kind of shit doesn’t happen to me.

CHAPTER 21

TATUM

While everyone went to bed late last night, and most likely slept for shit, I find myself padding into the kitchen before the sun rises this morning. My sleep was fitful from waking multiple times, my mind spinning with thoughts that I could be a dad. Thoughts of an almost likelihood of never knowing.

Thank God Ezra found out.

It’s all so insane. The what ifs are messing with my head.

Finding Kevin sitting at the table, I shuffle to the cabinet to grab a coffee mug. “You need a refill?” I ask, my voice husky from exhaustion.

“I read her emails,” he says instead of answering my question.

Turning, I lean against the counter to sip at the practically boiling black gold. “What’d they say? Shit! I need to read what she sent me.”

I’m sure at some point, I’d have checked my social media accounts. I typically do once or twice a year, but what if I couldn’t log in and decided to say fuck it?

Richard walks in without looking at any of us, asking softly, “Read what?”

“The messages she sent me. Kev got the emails from her too. Will you let me read those?” I ask to Kevin. He nods and picks up his phone to open them up. His movements are slow, as if his hands are weighted. I’m sure it’s the heaviness surrounding the tiny bean nestled inside his momma, hopefully sleeping soundly upstairs.

Richard hums, then softly says, “I’d like to read those as well.”

Clearing his throat, Kevin adds, “There’s also an ultrasound photo attached.”

“Fuck, I want to see a picture of our son!” Ezra says happily, marching into the room. I glance over his shoulder to see if Miriam is behind him. He catches me and whispers, “She’s sleeping peacefully with the little seedling. My petal was exhausted after her late night visitor.”

“Why are you so sure it’s a boy?” I ask, opening up my phone to find the message from her.

“Visitor?” Kevin asks simultaneously.

To Kevin, he jerks his head to indicate Richard, saying nothing else to answer him. Instead, he rubs his chin and purses his lips in thought before answering me. “Well, lots of reasons, aside from the fact that I feel it. She’s got a ton of salty and savory foods in her apartment, and when I touched her feet last night, they were cold.”

“What the hell?” I snap out, pausing what I’m doing on my phone. “Jesus Christ, Ez. I told you to stop going into her place!”

Kevin’s head jerks up, and he glares at my best friend. “You’ve been breaking into her apartment?”

Ezra is looking around at all of us, his eyes wide in confusion. “I mean… yeah? That’s how I found out about the baby. And so you all aren’t concerned, I put socks on her feet to keep them warm, so no need to worry about that.”

“I’m pretty sure those are old wives’ tales, buddy,” I grit out, then go back to my phone. I don’t pay attention to the lecture Richard is giving him as I read through the messages Miriam sent meweeksago.

Hi Tatum,

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