Page 8 of Mafia Doctor's Secret Baby

“How are you feeling?” Cara fusses, leaning forward. “I mean, I can’t even imagine. I can’t handle a heavy period, and here you are?—”

“Not as bad as I thought,” I admit. “But I think that’s because I’m holding her. I feel like every time someone takes her out of my arms, I’m going to burst.”

“Yeah, I could see that on your face when I came back with the nurse,” she teases. “You looked like you wanted to snatch her right back from her arms…”

She continues talking, but I can’t take any of it in. Because there’s something else throbbing around my brain—something so huge and overwhelming I’m not even sure I know where to start.

The man who delivered my baby is also that baby’s father. Which is some kind of coincidence I could never in my life have foreseen. I had already come to terms with the idea of raising my daughter alone—it wasn’t as though I could just go through the guest list from that party and call up every single guy on there until I found the one who knocked me up.

And besides, the man I met that night…even though the sex was incredible, there was a part of me that was a little spooked by him.

How he spoke to me, how he took control, how he demanded everything he clearly thought he deserved—it’s not like that kind of guy would make a good dad, right? No matter how difficult it might have been to make peace with the idea of being a single mom, it was better than inviting someone I don’t know into my daughter’s life.

But he’s made it pretty damn clear that he’s not just going to back off and let things be. I don’t even know how he recognized me, to be honest—my tattoo, maybe? But it’s not like we exchanged any personal details that night, not like he even saw my face under the mask. And the way he acted that evening, it’s clear that it wasn’t his first time doing something like that…

He must have a whole stream of women dragging out behind him into infinity. A hot doctor like that, he’ll have no issue finding girls to sleep with him. Maybe this isn’t even the first time he’s been faced with such a thing, and that’s why he’s sointense about it. Maybe he doesn’t want to be brushed off like he was before.

But that doesn’t mean I have to let him be part of my life. It’s my decision. That’s what I’ve been telling myself all the way through this, that it’s my decision, my choice, my life—even when I stepped away from the internship position that I loved so much, I knew I would not regret it when I met my daughter.

And if Luca thinks he, some random guy, is more important than all of that? He’s crazy.

“You alright?” Cara asks, reaching over to give my hand a squeeze. I realize that I’ve been sitting in silence for the last few minutes, just staring at my daughter.

I nod quickly.

“Mhm,” I assure her. “Just…tired, that’s all. Need to get some rest.”

“Of course you do,” she agrees, and she stifles a yawn. “God, you’ve just made me realize how tired I am too. And I’ve actually been able to drink caffeine the last few months…”

I laugh and smile up at my best friend.

“Thank you so much for being here,” I murmur to her. “I…I know it’s not been easy for you…”

“Are you kidding?” she exclaims. “Like I would ever miss the birth of my niece. I’ve got to start being her favorite aunt early, right?”

“I don’t think you’re going to have too much competition in those stakes,” I reply, slightly sad. It’s not that I don’t think Cara will be an amazing aunt, because she will—but I don’t have anyother family to introduce my little girl to. My parents passed away years ago in a car accident, and I’ve been on my own ever since. As I look down at Polly, I wonder if she understands that, on some level. It’s just the two of us against the world, the two of us ready to take on anything thrown at us.

“Well, I’m still going to be the best,” Cara replies, tossing her hair over one shoulder as though it should be obvious. I can’t help but laugh—there’s something so charming about her confidence, and I know it’s going to take her far in the journalism world. She just started her first full-time post-college job the week before last, though I have no idea how she intends to get through the day ahead without falling asleep.

“How long do you have to stay here?” she wonders aloud. “I could drive you home, maybe…”

“A few more hours,” I reply, and I suddenly feel a jolt of panic in my system. A few more hours during which that doctor can interrogate me further about everything that happened—about why I kept this from him, what I’m intending to do with my little girl.Ourlittle girl. Fuck, I hate thinking about it in those terms. I have spent these last nine months figuring out how to do it alone, and now I might not even get the chance?

“Will you stick around with me while I wait?” I ask her, my voice a little more frantic than I intend it to be. I just don’t want to be in this room alone if I can help it. I know he won’t start up his questions again if someone else is here with us—he doesn’t seem like the type. No, it’s clear that he’s got a reputation to protect here, and he doesn’t want to put that on the line by admitting to some illicit affair with a woman who has just given birth.

“Yeah, of course I will,” Cara replies, her voice soft as she returns her attention to Polly. “She’s beautiful, by the way. I mean, I know I’m meant to say that, being her aunt and all, but…”

“She is,” I agree, feeling a swell of pride in my chest. I know that’s not the most important thing about her, not by a long shot, but I don’t think I’ve seen a more gorgeous little girl in all my life. Her face has a warmth to it, as though she can already sense what’s going on inside my head, and I have to say, I hope she can. I hope she can feel the intense waves of love rushing from me right now—I hope she can tell without a second guess that her mother adores her.

“So, you going to tell me who the father is now, or what?”

My head snaps up. Though her tone is jokey, I’m a little too on edge for these kinds of conversations right now.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she soothes me, laughing as she plants a hand on my arm. “I was just teasing. I know you want to keep that to yourself.”

“Right,” I mutter, but my voice is weak. She has been so kind to me about not demanding to know who the father of my baby is—I just told her it was a guy I hooked up with and knew very little about, but left off the part about doing it at the masquerade party. I know she’d have some serious questions, and given her investigative spirit, no doubt she would have gone sifting through the lists just as soon as she got the chance to identify the lucky guy.

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