Page 32 of A Man of Prestige

His mouth falls open. He doesn’t say a word for long seconds. I can feel my heartbeat accelerating with each passing moment of silence.

“We have a child?” he finally asks, his voice laced with pain and anger.

I shake my head. “There’s no child,” I whisper.

“You made that decision without me!” Now his voice is rising. He’s mad, so very mad.

“I didn’t—”

“How could you do that? You didn’t even have the decency to tell me?” He’s yelling now and getting out of the bed.

“Aiden, I—”

“No, no, you don’t get to ‘Aiden’ me. Not after this.”

“But—”

“No. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’d do this!” His scream echoes in the room. He won’t even let me explain. He doesn’t even understand. There’s so much more to tell him, but he won’t let me get the words out.

He picks up his phone and starts texting. I get out of bed and begin to dress. I can’t do this naked.

“Aiden, listen, you need to understand,” I start, but he holds up a hand.

“No, I don’t need to do anything. But you need to leave. I just called a car.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You won’t even let me finish a damn sentence. And I don’t need a car. I drove, remember?”

“I don’t need to hear anything else,” he says with a clenched jaw as he throws on his pants and shirt.

“Fine. Whatever. I’m going. This is stupid,” I mutter. I can’t talk to him, not when he gets like this.

I walk to his front door as I slide my shoes on. When I reach it, I turn and look back at him.

“If you ever want the rest of the story, I guess you know where to find me,” I shoot back, my words like daggers flying through the air.

I open the door and slam it behind me, heading out to my car. I get in and pull away, watching my rearview mirror as his house disappears from my sight.

What the fuck just happened? One second, he’s making love to me, and the next, he just tossed me to the curb. Maybe my sister was right. The last time our relationship ended, she said we were too passionate for longevity. Perhaps this interlude was just a final curtain call for us.

Chapter15

Aiden

The anger coursingthrough my veins is unlike any I have ever felt before in my life. I can’t even begin to comprehend what Ella has just told me.

I pace in my living room. I drink a glass of bourbon. I pace some more. But no amount of walking has me cooling down. I strip off my clothes that still smell of Ella and put on my gym shorts. I walk to my gym and grab my gloves. Using my mouth, I secure the Velcro fastening and look at my punching bag.

I use voice commands to turn on hard-core rap. I sample songs from the nineties and begin to pummel the bag. I lose myself to the beat of the music and the sound of my gloves making contact with the leather. Every swing of my arm brings my anger to a higher level until I don’t know if my body could contain any more rage. I hit the bag for the loss of my mom, for my asshole father, and for the child I never got to meet.

I don’t even know what time it is when I finally sink to my knees in total exhaustion. My phone rings and I look down. It’s my father.

Fuck. My. Life.

“Yes?” I answer after removing a glove.

“Oh, so you aren’t sick, then?”

I may have used illness as a reason to miss our monthly dinner together.

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