Page 62 of Sebastian

His face crumbles, and the gold flecks in his eyes seem to simmer as his eyes water slightly.

“I’d have never come here and dumped all my shit on you if I had known. You have to believe me.”

I wipe my eyes, the napkin collecting some of my green mask. Sebastian wouldn’t have any idea. It’s not something I share immediately, but the pain we are both sharing from the same topic, babies, hurts us in different ways. I drop the napkin on the table to pat his hand. It’s not his fault, and it’s not my fault. Life’sa bitch sometimes, and the only thing we can control about it is our reaction to it.

“It’s okay, Sebastian. You didn’t know,” I say sincerely, squeezing his hand while he sniffs back his tears. “Life has a way of surprising us. Some people are meant to be parents, while others are not. It’s okay to be unsure, and it’s okay to take your time to figure things out. You don’t have to have all the answers right now. And whatever decision you make, there’s support and love around you, like Paolo and your friends.”

He latches onto my hand as if it’s his life source, rubbing his thumb across my knuckles and staring so intently at me that his hazel eyes are the greenest I’ve ever seen.

“Would you be there for me if she is pregnant?”

His grip tightens as he looks intently at me, seeking an honest answer to a difficult question.Could I stand by and watch her have what I wanted? In recent years, I’ve told myself that I’ve made peace with it, but is that really true?

“Sebastian, we just met, and it’s been a lot of fun. Monday night was?—”

“I really enjoyed that. It’s all I’ve been thinking about until, well, now this. I fucked it up by choosing her over you.”

He releases my hand and groans while looking up at the ceiling.

“God, if only I had stayed with you and had security removed her, then none of this would have happened. What happens now, Chloe?”

His view of things is grossly misguided, but I understand his world has been thrown off its axis. As he shares his worries, I can’t help but have my own inner dialogue of concerns. The idea of dating a man who is about to become a father and seeing his ex, who’s now the mother of his child, around all the time is daunting. Will he go back to her once the baby is born? WillI be left in the lurch? The idea of being involved in a complex situation like this is giving me pause.

Despite the chemistry and connection we’ve shared, the reality of the situation is sinking in. I might be setting myself up for heartbreak by getting involved with someone on the brink of such a significant life change. But at the same time, a part of me cares deeply about Sebastian and wants to support him through this challenging time. My mind is spinning similarly to his. However, he’s asking questions I don’t have the answers to.

“This situation with Veronica is a lot to process. And our lives are so different, Sebastian.”

My voice is full of doubt. Sebastian lets out a deep sigh, and I’m beginning to think it’s his way of handling stress.

“I know that, but everything with you feels right. Can’t we have what our friends have?”

I asked myself that same question earlier this week. Hope, doubt, and confusion swirl about his expression, leaving me unsure of what to say.

“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “If you’re going to be a father, then shouldn’t you try and make it work with Veronica?”

That question makes him look sadder, and I immediately know the answer.

“I’m an asshole, Chloe. I imagined you guessed that already.” I chuckle and nod, which causes a break in the guilt on his face before he continues, “She’s smoking hot but crazy. It was just casual, and I ended it last month, but I guess I’m getting what I deserve.”

Children aren’t a punishment. They are a blessing. Ask anyone who ever wanted one or had one, but I understand he can’t think beyond his immediate, panicked response.

“I don’t think having a child is karma trying to get back at you. It’s a beautiful thing when both parties want the baby. I know you are young, but even you know better than that.”

I dislike sounding like a mom lecturing her son, but someone in his world needs to say it.

“And you can’t reduce women to body parts by saying she’s hot but crazy.”

“Yeah, that’s what Paolo’s always saying.”

I can’t help but feel a bit of sympathy for him, especially when he acknowledges his past bad behavior. Paolo’s influence might be the hope he needs to grow up and change.I sip my cooling coffee as he shoves his plate of food away. He keeps looking around my apartment as if all the answers he needs are contained here.

“When do you go to the doctor? To confirm it?” I ask, setting my cup on the table and taking a nibble of my biscuit.He runs his hand through his messy hair, looking like he’s done it countless times.

“I don’t know. She said her doctor is booked weeks in advance and probably can’t get in until after Christmas, maybe even after New Year’s.”

That doesn’t sound right. Specialty doctors such as cardiologists and neurologists are booked a couple of months out. In my experience, a gynecologist can usually get you in within a couple of days, at least for a simple pregnancy confirmation. Even a primary care physician can order the blood test. Something doesn’t add up.

“Well, this is a large city with plenty of gynecologists who could confirm the pregnancy if that would bring you some peace of mind. I could call mine if you’d like to see if she can fit you in. Possibly this week even. Or you could leverage your contacts. Surely, in the circles you entertain, someone’s dad is bound to be one.”

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