Page 42 of The Forever Play

How could I interrupt his three-way?

How could I knock on his door and tell him he was going to become a father?

I didn’t want that man fathering my child.

And so I ran.

And I thought I’d never have to deal with him again.

But when has life ever played fair, right?

With a hiccupping sob, I wipe my nose with the back of my finger, then wince when my phone starts to ring.

Pulling it out of my pocket, I see Russell’s name and suck in a few deep breaths before answering with a cheerful “Hey. How’s my favorite girl?”

“She’s awake and asking for you.”

“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” Zoey shouts in the background, sounding as happy as a clam.

I force a laugh and singsong, “I’m on my way,” hoping like hell that by the time I reach Russell’s place, I can stuff all these ugly memories into the back recesses of my mind and get on with being the mother I’m supposed to be.

CHAPTER 16

ZANDER

I walk back to Football Frat in a numb haze. I don’t remember throwing out my coffee cup. I don’t remember crossing any streets, but eventually I’m walking up our front path and in the door.

The TV’s on, but I don’t know what’s playing. I hear a muffled greeting but can’t respond as I haul my sorry ass up the stairs and shut my bedroom door. I even lock it, which is something I don’t normally do, but I can’t be interrupted right now.

I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself.

“What’d you see, Sienna?” I keep whispering. “What the hell did you see?”

My phone starts ringing and I wrench it out of my pocket, ready to hurl it onto my bed, until I see who’s calling me.

Before I can stop myself, I answer in a rush. “Mon.” I whimper her name, and there’s a thick beat of silence before she responds.

“Zander?” My sister’s voice is sharp and alert as always. “Are you okay?”

“It’s bad,” I rasp.

“How bad?” Her voice takes on that lawyer quality she uses every time she’s facing a crisis. “Talk to me.”

“I… she was… pregnant.”

“What? Who?”

“Sienna.” Plunking down on the end of my bed, I stare at my shoelaces. “She had a kid. A little girl. Zoey.”

“Wow, really?” Monica’s voice pitches with interest until the ball quickly drops. “Oh shit. No. You’re not saying…? She’s not the little girl you called me about the other day, is she?”

“Yes,” I croak. “The one I saw on the playground who looks just like you.”

“No, that can’t be. You’re… She’syours? You’re a dad?”

“Yeah.” It’s hard getting the word out, but there it is.

“Holy shit!”

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