Page 84 of Second Chance for the Single Mom

“Bull-fucking-shit!” he said, jumping to his feet. He began pacing across his living room, never looking at me. “I have a son. Ason. And I didn’t know!”

“I made the decision to raise him on my own,” I insisted. “I didn’t want to put that pressure on you. I didn’t even want child support. Iwantedto do it by myself.”

“I still deserved to know the truth, no matter what you decided,” he insisted. He hadn’t raised his voice at all, but somehow that made it even worse. “Does he know?”

I shook my head. “I’ve never told him anything.”

“Oh my God. You let me play with him…” His hands were fists in his hair as he paced. “Youwatchedme read him a bedtime story. Was that all just some test?”

“No!”

“You made meproveI was a good parent figure before you’d let me know thatI was his father?”

No, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to go this way!

“I’m so sorry, Lucas,” I said. My entire body ached with regret. “I should have told you sooner. But I never thought I would see you again! You were so adamant that you didn’t want kids back then, I thought it would only hurt if I told you. I didn’t want you to feel trapped, you know? Lucas, will you stop pacing and look at me?”

When he finally did turn his gaze on me, I wished he hadn’t. His eyes welled with moisture, full of a lifetime of pain.

“Leave,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Leave,” he repeated, pointing at the door. “I can’t look at you right now. You have to go. Why are you still sitting there, Haley? I. Need. You. To.Leave.”

Only on the last word did he raise his voice, but it wasn’t anger. It was agony. It was pain.

Pain that I had caused.

By the time I had gotten dressed and left his apartment, I was sobbing.

41

Shay

I walked around the studio apartment, stepping over a bag full of baseball gear. “You know, for a doctor, you’re kind of a slob.”

“Shut up,” Jordan said from the couch, where he was frowning at an iPad.

“You make a good point,” I joked. “I should try that argument in court. Your honor, I move that the opposing counselshut up.”

“Here it is,” Jordan said, jumping to his feet and showing me the tablet. “You were right.”

“What am I looking at?” I asked.

“The registration form for our baseball league.” Jordan pointed. “Brandon Mercer. Age five.Notfour. And he was born in September, nine months after the holiday break when Lucas and Haley hooked up.”

I squinted at the screen. “BrandonLukeMercer.”

Jordan gasped.

That sealed it for me. Everything before that had been circumstantial evidence, but the middle name was far more definitive. If this were a trial, it would have been more than enough to convince a jury.

Thunder boomed outside, punctuating the point.

“Lucas is Bran’s father,” Jordan said.

I sank into the couch and picked up my beer, taking a long pull. “I can’t believe she’s kept this from him.”

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