Page 86 of Make Me Whole

Al’s eyes almost popped out of his head, and his hands balled into fists. “What did you say?”

Intimidated as fuck, I swallowed a dry lump and straightened my back. For the first time in thirty years, the man standing pissed in front of me wasn’t my idiot best friend. No, this man was my secret girlfriend’s father, and I had just admitted to him, while in jail, that I had impregnated his little girl without asking for his blessing to court her. I was in deep shit, and I knew it.

“Al, let me explain,” I begged, feeling strangely grateful for the steel bars that separated us. “This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

“Find out what? That you fucked my baby girl?”

I shook my head and corrected him. “That I fell in love with her. That we fell in love with each other.”

His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. “Love? You fucking asshole. You’re my best friend. Literally old enough to be her father. You saw her grow up. That’s not love. It’s a case study for a shrink. You took advantage of a girl who’s too broken to realize it.”

The other detainees stared at us like bored housewives stare at gossip magazines. I wanted to tell them to mind their own business, but knew it was pointless. We were in jail. No one had business to mind in here.

Ignoring the audience, I focused on Al and shook my head. “For goodness’ sake, Al. She’s not a girl. She’s a grown woman with a daughter. And you know I’d never take advantage of a woman, especially her. But we’re both single parents who’ve been through hell, and we connected over it. We became friends, and then the friendship grew into something I haven’t felt since Marge.”

Despite the anger and disgust in his face, I continued, “Sky and I agreed I would tell you as soon as we arrived home from the trip. I was going to invite you to have drinks with me, come clean, and then ask your permission to marry her.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t ask my permission to fuck my daughter. You betrayed my trust. If you were going to ask for her hand, it’s only because you got her pregnant. Don’t try to play the good guy, Max.”

“I didn’t know she was pregnant until you said it,” I admitted. “She’s never told me. Do you really think she would have gone back to Eli if I knew? And do you really believe that if I’d known you’d have heard about it from Molly instead of from me? After thirty fucking years, is that the kind of man you think I am?”

Al ran his hands angrily through his hair. “Who the fuck knows? I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“Yes, you do. I’m the same guy you’ve known most of your life.” I stared into his too familiar eyes, begging him to look past the hurt and see all the truths I was trying to share with him.

Truth: I loved Skylar and Ella as fiercely and truthfully as I loved Aiden and had loved Marge.

Truth: I wanted to build a family with them—and with this new surprise baby—more than anything.

Truth: I hated myself for taking so long to admit my feelings for Sky to my best friend. He deserved a better friend, and she deserved a better man.

Truth: Even if it cost me my life, I would get Skylar away from Eli once and for all and keep her safe at my side.

His eyes softened for a second, leading me to believe I’d gotten through to him. My shoulders relaxed with a long sigh, but before my lungs were fully empty, the door connecting to the station rattled open and Al looked away from me.

He turned his gaze toward the other end of the corridor, and his expression changed. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Nick or that he had good news for me. I knew Al’s nuances too well to know that forgiveness wasn’t in his plans and that he deeply regretted whatever part he had in the good news my lawyer was about to share.

Nick was only a few steps away when Al finally looked back at me. The softening of his eyes was gone, replaced by even more hardness and resentment than before.

With disgust in his face, he said, “See if Nick will take you home because you and I are through.” He turned on his heels and left without another word.

As I watched him go, I realized that no matter what Nick was going to say, in a night, I had lost everything. My freedom. My clean record. My woman. And finally, my very best friend.

I knew that somehow, I would get everything back and by the time I was done recouping what was mine, that fucker Eli would wish he had never, ever crossed my path.

36

SKY

Like most pregnant mammas, from the moment I found out I was having another baby, I started counting my life in weeks and days.

I was five weeks and three days along when I first learned about the pregnancy, and eight weeks and three days when Max admitted he wanted to build a family with me. On the first—and last—night I spent with Max, our baby was eight weeks and five days, and at exactly nine weeks, Ella and I walked back through the blue front door of the prison Eli disguised as a house.

Three weeks and one day had gone by since that day, which put me in day one of Baby’s second trimester. I should have been jumping up and down with joy, celebrating finally being done with the nausea, vomiting, and tiredness. I should have been looking forward to finding the baby’s gender, setting up a nursery, and buying baby’s clothes. Instead, I was mindlessly shifting a grilled cheese sandwich around a pan while I listened to Ella complain about changing schools and not being able to see Aiden while I tried to think what to do about the baby growing inside me.

I knew that many women in my situation would consider abortion. Eli’s cruel and violent traits could even make a valid argument about it being the compassionate thing to do. However, I knew with every fiber of my being that I would never, could never, do that. This child was the fruit of true love, proof that what Max and I had was real, and a reminder that I had been blessed with love and happiness, even though it didn’t last.

With that option off the table, I needed to either tell Eli the truth and then convince him that accepting this baby as his was in the best interest of his political aspirations or con him into believing the baby was his. Neither option was good, but without a doubt, the one where I didn't have to endure his disgusting cock was preferable. Besides, he had barely even talked to me since I moved back, which was an absolute win in my opinion, but a hard setback when trying to conceive a child or pass an already conceived child off as someone else's.

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