Elijah
* * *
Three days ago.
* * *
As soon as I enter the building, I know something is off. Call it a sixth sense if you will. There’s a tightening in my gut as I enter the elevator. Barbara tells me that Bailey left, and I can’t come up with a reason as to why she would leave. I check my phone. No missed calls, no missed messages. When I left, everything seemed to be fine.
The elevator door slides open with a ping and I step out into the main room. My eyes go to Bailey’s desk right away, hope springing in my belly that maybe Barbara was wrong and Bailey didn’t leave, but the space is empty.
The awful feeling in my gut festers. Something is definitely wrong, very fucking wrong. I get my phone out once more, ready to call Bailey when an unfamiliar voice startles me.
“It’s about time. I’ve been waiting here for almost an hour. Your cute little assistant told me to wait for you, and she promised you wouldn’t be long.” I turn around to face the woman, her voice grating on my last nerve. She’s sitting on a chair in the waiting area, her legs crossed, one of her feet bouncing like she is aggravated. What the fuck does she have to be aggravated about?
Her blue eyes pierce mine, a profess pout on her lips. She’s twirling a blonde lock around her finger while staring at me like I’m supposed to know who she is.
“Can I help you?” I ask, my patience running paper-thin. I don’t know who the hell this chick is, but the fact that she talked to Bailey already has me pissed. She better start talking before I physically remove her from the building.
Her face turns sour. “Wow, that’s rich. I mean, you told me this was a one-night stand deal, but you could at least remember who you fucked.”
Shit. I look her over again. Now that I’m really thinking about it, she does look familiar. Blonde hair. Fuck-me eyes. Then again, they all do. They all look the same inside my head. Flipping through my mind, I can’t find anything about the woman in front of me that stands out.
Did I sleep with her?
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I try to rack my brain, trying to place her, but I can’t.
She rolls her eyes, her lips pursing, “I’m Kelly, we met at the Irish bar on Main. I wore a green mini dress. You told me you would leave a lasting impression… that I wouldn’t ever forget what it was like to be with you.”
Fuck my life. I remember her now. It was months ago, but I did spend a night with her… or more like two hours before she fell asleep and I snuck out. Either way, that’s not what matters, what matters is why she’s here, at my office, and what the hell did she say to Bailey?
“What the hell are you doing here?”
She stands up, smoothing her dress down over her stomach. My eyes automatically traveling in that direction. I gulp, watching her hand rub over her very round stomach. Oh fuck no, this can’t be what I think it is. My knees buckle, and my throat tightens. I’m seconds away from hitting my face on the floor.
“I just came by to tell you I’m pregnant… it’s yours, in case you haven’t gathered that already. You never left your number, so I had to resort to seeking you out.”
“That… that can’t be…” The floor falls away from underneath me. “We used a condom.” I know we did. I always used a condom. The only person I never used one with was Bailey.
Bailey. My Sunflower.
“Well, I don’t know. I guess it broke or something. You know nothing is one hundred percent,” she says all nonchalant. “Anyway, I thought you should know. Of course I’ll be expecting child support once the baby is born, which is happening in four months, if you care. Other than that, I don’t really care what happens between us. If you want him every other weekend or however that works then… whatever. I’m cool with it.” She picks up her coat from the chair next to her and pulls it on. Suddenly I’m overcome with emotions. Sadness, anger, regret, they all burn deep inside me, threatening to spill out.
“It’s not mine. It can’t be,” I tell her, my hands clenched at my sides, my jaw tight. She gives me a deadpan look and shoves a stack of papers into my chest. She looked so pretty that night, and now she looks like a nightmare, an absolute nightmare.
“My number and stuff is on those documents. Also my due date, doctor, and the hospital info. I need you to fill this out and send it back to them. You know, for the medical bills.”
Teeth grinding together, I take the stack of papers and stare down at them in silence. My father had been right after all, the only exception being he placed the blame on the wrong woman.
It’s not mine, I repeat inside my head.
“I know it’s a shock. It was for me as well, but you’ll get over it. It’s just a kid. It’s not the end of the world.”
What she doesn’t get is that it is the end of my world.
The end of my future with Bailey.
The end of my life.
Present day
* * *
I don’t know how many times I’ve called and texted her. I lost count after the first few hours. I’ve had to recharge my phone twice today just to keep up with all the action the device is getting. And no matter how many calls or texts she hasn’t answered a single one. She hasn’t even reached out. I’ve checked all her social media accounts, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, everything. Nothing. I talked to her dad earlier today. I know she is staying with him, but he insisted on me not coming there. He told me he wouldn’t let me in and I believe him. He loves Bailey too much. If she asks him not to let me in, he won’t.
I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. Fuck, I can barely breathe. Everything hurts, my chest aches as if there is a knife permanently embedded inside it and every time I think of Bailey, the knife twists, the blade digging in deeper. I’m hardly alive, living on the hope that maybe Bailey will call me back or at least just let me know that she is okay.
I’m still not able to wrap my mind around me being a father. How can I ever be a good parent? I try not to think about it. I know if it’s true, I’ll do the best I can. Even if it’s just helping financially. At least Kelly and the kid wouldn’t have to worry about money. The kid, she said him, so it’s a boy. I could have a son. I wish I could feel any other way about it, but as of right now, it just feels wrong. Wrong because it’s not Bailey.
“You look like shit,” Asher tells me when I walk into his living room.
“Not only do I look like it, I feel like it too.” I throw the stack of papers Kelly gave me on the coffee table. I’ve already told Asher about this fucking mess. He was the first person I called after I couldn’t get a hold of Bailey. I didn’t know who else to call, and I didn’t want to make the rash decision of getting a lawyer right away, not without looking over all the papers I had gotten yesterday.
“Has she called you back?” Asher asks somberly.
Shaking my head, I lock my gaze on the coffee table. “She hasn’t, and I doubt that she will. If she wanted to talk to me, she would’ve called by now. All I’m hoping for at this moment is to find out that she’s okay. I have no idea what Kelly said to her, but I’m sure it wasn’t good. I can’t imagine what she thinks of me right now.”