Page 72 of Sebastian

Gio talks as if I’m not even in the room, which is insulting in my own home.

“Make him leave, Jiles.”

“You want to try and explain this to him, or should I?”

Jiles looks extremely uneasy as he approaches with the crinkled picture.

“Explain what? What’s the big deal?” I demand to know, my patience running out and quickly being replaced with anger. “Jiles?”

“Mr. Sebastian, it would seem that you have been misled.”

His voice is calm and reassuring but his words are confusing as hell, which he can tell by the look on my face. He leans forward to point at the date on the picture.

“By Miss Veronica. The baby would have been conceived in mid-November if she’s four weeks along.”

I stare at Jiles, Gio bouncing on the balls of his feet in the background and grinning from ear to ear.

“Holy shit.”

My brain is sparking with renewed energy as they explain this complicated pregnancy stuff. I’ve never conceived a child, so I don’t know how it works. I followed Veronica’s lead, blindly believing what the doctor’s office said and never thinking to do the math.

My body immediately goes rigid with shock and then quickly dissipates, leaving me with a profound sense of relief that spreads from my chest to the outer edges of my body. I can’t help but smile. My fingers tremble as I take the ultrasound picture, studying the due date in the corner. It’s a date that no longer carries the responsibility of my impending fatherhood but rather the joy of liberation. I’ve never felt so thankful and relieved in my life.

My heart beats more steadily now, and I find myself chuckling, overwhelmed by the sheer absurdity of the situation. I never thought that an ultrasound picture could bring me such a sense of euphoria, but at this moment, it’s my salvation.

I toss the picture on the coffee table and lean back, a genuine smile spreading across my face. I can’t help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

“This isn’t my kid.”

18

CHLOE

Afternoon turned into night and morning without a word from Sebastian. I try not to read into it, knowing what he’s facing and how he looked yesterday. However, it’s hard not to feel neglected and hurt. Especially with how sincere he seemed at breakfast when I told him about my condition and he asked me to be with him. I’m not eager to chalk it up to another dating failure, not yet, but the longer this day stretches toward lunch, the harder I find it not to.

I called him twice yesterday in moments of weakness while feeling incredibly lonely. I feigned the excuse of being a supportive friend even though it was so much more than that. Not that he outright ghosted me. He was literally in my apartment, bringing me breakfast and stealing flowers. It was the way we left things, with me unsure where to go with him and his disappointment that we couldn’t continue dating. Even though I vacillated all day about it and even jumped on Taylor’s conspiracy, I hate how I left things if I were to be truthful with myself.

I’ve picked up my phone more than once today, wrestling with the idea of calling or texting. Each time, I remind myselfthat it works both ways and set my phone back on my desk. Thankfully, work has been busy. The first tranche of the damage control campaign has been launched, with feedback that it’s being well received.

Mr. Williamson showered me with praise before beelining to another meeting across the floor. Yet, with all the work, it’s only a temporary respite to the countless times my eyes drift to my quiet phone.

With my control wavering, I silence the ringer and stuff it into my purse, unwilling to pull it out until the end of the day.

Taylor ambles in, her hands wrapped around a coffee cup that I assume is filled with her favorite pumpkin spice latte.

“Any word?” she murmurs, leaning in the doorframe and blowing into the steaming cup.

“None.”

I exhale loudly, trying to tamper down my hurt feelings once again.

“I’m sorry, honey.” She moves out of the doorway and stands at the edge of my desk. “Paolo hasn’t heard from him either. It keeps going straight to voicemail.”

“It did that yesterday, but I haven’t tried today.” I raise my chin in defiance, the opposite of how I feel inside. “And I’m not going to. He knows where I work and where I live. If he wants to talk, he knows where I’m at.”

“That’s true.” She takes a sip of her hot drink, still looking perplexed. “Paolo called Giovanni but had to leave a message. Paolo said it isn’t unusual if Gio has clients, which he might have at this time of the day.”

She looks down at her watch and hums, acknowledging that it is likely happening with Gio, but Sebastian’s intentionally avoiding everybody.

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