Page 147 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
“Did you know you were pregnant and deliberately not tell me?” His voice cracks, suspicion lacing through every word. “Because if you did—”
“No! I didn’t,” I cut in, firm. “You know my periods were always sporadic until I was on the pill. We broke up and I went off it for a while. I’d started again a few weeks before you and I… Anyway, I found out I was pregnant a couple of months after Coop and I started dating. I didn’t even question whose baby it was. He said we should get married and I told myself it was the right way to move on. I didn’t know, Padraig. I promise.”
He stares at me for a long moment. “I don’t want to say something I can’t take back, Stevie. None of it makes sense.”
“Okay.” It scrapes out of me, thin and unsteady.
“When you didn’t get your period, weren’t you suspicious?” He folds his arms and stares me down.
I mentally think back to the time right before I found out. “I remember spotting. I used pads. I thought it was my body adjusting to the birth control again.”
His gaze flicks to Kellan, then back to me, sharp and unrelenting. “We need to get a DNA test. No more guessing.”
The air between us feels heavy. Every breath loud in my ears. I keep my grip on the edge of the bassinet, holding on like it might keep the ground from shifting beneath me. “Padraig—”
“What if she’s mine?” The words are barely more than a breath, but they slam into me all the same. Splintering through everything I thought was settled, leaving nowhere to hide.
Confusion rattles through me. There was never, ever a question in my mind. Isla was Cooper’s. The math never mattered, because the possibility didn’t exist. Until now.
“Did you tell him?” He winces.
“What?”
“Did you tell him how hard I fucked you when I was in town?” Padraig snarls, sounding more like Liam than himself. “When he ‘shot his shot’ was it because he knew you were thinking how many times I’d made you come?”
“I didn’t tell him. He never knew about our night together,” I whisper.
He scoffs. “This timeline makes me physically sick.”
“We weren’t together,” I bark, shame curling in my stomach. “I was trying to move on.”
The muscle in his cheek ticks. “You realize, if she’s mine, you’ve stolen nearly eleven years with my daughter. You allowed another man to raise mykid.”
Something inside him seems to snap on the last word. I step toward him on instinct. “Padraig—”
“Don’t.” He steps back and holds up a hand. “Don’t touch me right now.”
The rejection cuts deep, but he’s already turning away, crossing the room to the closet. I hear a sharp scrape of a hanger. The thump of a backpack hitting the floor. He yanks clothes from the rod without looking at me, shoving them inside with short, angry motions.
When the zipper rasps closed, the sound rips something open in my chest.
“Please.” Panic tightens my throat. “Don’t leave.”
He whirls on me, eyes flashing. “Taking a night to catch my breath after potentially life-changing news is not fucking leaving, Stevie.” His voice aches with fury and hurt. “No matter what happens with us, I will never abandon my kids. Or yours. They’re mine now. Every damn one of them. Don’t you ever think otherwise.”
The certainty in his words hits as hard as the anger. He slings the strap of the backpack over his shoulder, strides past me down the stairs. I hear the front door close with an echoing click.
I stand frozen for a moment, my heart pounding in my ears. Kellan shifts in the bassinet, making a small, restless sound. I lift him into my arms, his warm weight pressing against my chest, and carry him into bed with me.
Curling around him, I press my face into his soft hair, letting the tears come hot and fast.
My hand strokes his tiny back in slow circles while the rest of me shakes.
I have no idea if Padraig will walk back through the door tonight.
No idea if the truth will tear us apart or bind us closer.
All I know is, in the span of four hours, my life might have imploded.
