Page 51 of Wesley

“I’d like the truth too.” He said after he’d closed the door. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his hard gaze nailed mine. I blinked. Why was he angry with me?

“Wes—” I wasn’t sure what to say. I was overwhelmed at the moment.

“Save the bullshit, Charlotte. Is Tom Marisol’s father?”

“No, I mean—” I paused, and the next words were barely spoken, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You are trying to tell me that you had sex with him, and you don’t’ remember if he’s the father of your child? How many guys did you screw when you were in college? Is that why you don’t know who the father is? It could be one of what, three, four, five different guys?”

“Wes, it wasn’t like that.”

“Wasn’t like what? Wasn’t like you took drugs and got knocked up because you were promiscuous? It sure the hell sound that way, Charlotte.”

He started to walk away, and I reached for his arm, “Wes—”

He shrugged out of my hold, “Save it, Charlotte. Obviously, you are not the person I thought you were. Your daughter is in the lounge with a nurse down the hall. I suggest you go get her and leave.”

“Wes, wait!” I stomped my foot, and he turned and laughed, staring at my foot.

“Really? You’re going to throw a temper tantrum like a two-year-old? Tell me something Charlotte, are you really on birth control? Or did you get me into bed because you were ready to get pregnant again? Would you have run away with my kid if you had found out you were?

My jaw dropped, and I stared at him. I couldn’t even think of a reply to that. I was so shocked, stunned that he would think so little of me.

When I didn’t respond, he glared at me, “If you find out you're pregnant, send me word; otherwise, I think we are done here.”

He was out the door before I could blink twice. I walked numbly down the hallway and found the lounge. Inside, Marisol was finishing an ice pop, and I thanked the nurse quietly and took her hand, leading her out of the lounge and down the hall.

“Where is Doctor Young?” Marisol asked.

“He’s busy, sweetie.” I somehow replied.

“Mommy, who was the other man talking to you?”

I glanced down at my daughter, fear like I’d never experienced knotting in my chest. What was he going to do? Would he fight me for custody of my daughter?

I squeezed her hand, “Nobody you need to worry about, Pumpkin.” And I vowed right there that I would fight that son of a bitch with everything I had to keep him away from my daughter.

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