11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Roman
With the door hanging open and no blue-haired woman around to stop me, I stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind me. The sounds of Shira retching traveled through the house as if she were in the same room. The reason for the insane acoustics became apparent as I entered the living room. The walls were barren, and a couch was the only furniture. The dining area was equally empty—no table at all. Was she moving?
A minute later, the blue-haired woman emerged from a hallway, her brows angry strikes of lightning over stormy eyes.
“Shira will be out after she cleans up. Your presence made her vomit. She hasn’t done that since her doctor gave her the good meds yesterday. Take that news however you’d like. Personally, I hope.” She jerked her hand toward the lone couch. “Sit down. No use in looming like that.”
“I’m not looming.” I shook my head, wondering why the hell I was defending myself to a stranger, then I took a seat, as ordered.
She exhaled, glancing toward the hallway. Somewhere back there, water was running. At least my presence was no longer making Shira throw up.
Hands on her hips, Shira’s friend addressed me. “I’m Bea Novak, Shira’s best friend. She doesn’t owe you anything, but for some reason, she’s agreed to talk to you. She’s told me all about you, and I will not stand for you being a dick to her one more time.”
“Fair enough. I don’t intend on being a dick.”
“Sure you don’t.” There was nowhere else for Bea to sit, so she perched on the arm of the couch opposite me.
I rubbed my sweaty palms on my legs, glancing around again. There was nothing here.
“Why is this house so empty?” I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.
Bea scoffed, her hands balling into fists. “You should ask Shira’s sweet little stepdaughter.”
I cocked my head. “Francesca?” Usually, I was more on the ball, but damn, a lot of information had been dumped on me at once. My brain was struggling to wrap around what was going on. “She told me Shira wouldn’t let her in the house or allow her to have any of her father’s things…”
Bea rolled her eyes. “Okay, Einstein. That’s plausible. I know you’ve met Francesca. Do you really think she could be kept out of this house? Bitch doesn’t have to be let in. She has a key and has been taking advantage of that fact over the last year—and Shira’s kindness. Shira would never even consider locking Frank’s daughter out of this house. If I had known the extent of her pillaging, I would have called the cops on her myself.”
My mouth was open to ask questions, to press her for more information, but I was interrupted by a dulcet, “Bea. Don’t.”
Shira came into the living room, a tiny black-and-white cat cradled in her arms. Her hair was tied back, and she’d thrown a sweater over her tank. Not that it mattered. I couldn’t unsee her as Goldie if I tried.
Bea hopped up, concern and worry etched on her face. “Sorry, Shir. This guy pisses me off. I’m going to chill. Promise.”
Shira’s tired, eerie eyes were soft on her friend. “I love you, Beatrice, but can you give us a little privacy? We have some things to talk about.”
She hesitated but eventually agreed. “I’ll be upstairs. Call me if you need me to toss him out.”
“No violence,” Shira murmured. “He can sue the pants off us, and I can’t go pantless everywhere now that I’m going to be a mother.”
Bea walked away laughing while I stared at this new version of Shira, who made jokes, cuddled a tiny cat, and apparently fucked like a little demon. It still didn’t make sense to me.
Once we were alone, I shot to my feet and held my arm out toward the couch. “Please, sit. I can stand or sit on the floor if that makes you more comfortable.”
Shira sat down with her back against the arm and her legs tucked under her. Her cat, who was as dainty as its owner, curled up in her lap, watching me with wary green eyes. I’d never been a cat person, but this one was pretty, even if mistrustful. I wondered what Shira had been telling her about me.
“There’s enough room for us both,” she said softly. “You don’t need to sit on the floor, and I’ll get a crick in my neck if you stand.”
I sat back down on the opposite side of the couch, keeping a cushion between us to give her space.
“For the record, I wouldn’t sue you, even if your friend tossed me out on my ear.”
She sniffed, almost a laugh. “Good to know.”
I spread my hands out on my legs. “We should get our facts straight before going any further. You’re Goldie?”
She nodded then nibbled her bottom lip. “And somehow…you’re really Wim?”
I winced at how fucking surreal it was to hear that name from her lips. “WhenInRome. Neither of us was too clever with our names, were we?”
She shrugged. “We weren’t, yet we didn’t figure it out.”
The cat in her lap purred loudly as Shira carved her fingers through its fur. She wasn’t giving me her eyes or even much of her attention. A week ago, I would have called this behavior cold and indifferent, but I was seeing her in a new light. Did my presence make her uncomfortable? Was meeting my gaze difficult for her? Did she not want me looking at her the way I was?
I shifted so I wasn’t facing her head-on. Since there was nowhere else for me to go and not having this conversation was out of the question, it was all I could do to make her feel better about the situation.
“I read your email. I want you to know I wasn’t ignoring it. I didn’t see it until this evening, and I came straight here for answers. Are you pregnant, Shira?”
She nodded. “I am.”
“Is it mine?”
Another nod.
“You’re sure?” I had to ask.
A sharp inhale. “There’s been no one else.” Finally, her eyes lifted. “It’s Wim’s. If you’re really Wim, then yes, it’s yours.”
Blowing out a heavy breath, I sunk back into the cushion, bewildered by how this was happening…how it was even possible. I wasn’t a kid who played it fast and loose with contraceptives. I’d had plenty of sex in my life. I was always safe, had never had a pregnancy scare, and now this… fuck . How the hell did I get here?
Shira went on, shaky and so quiet I had to lean in to hear her. “It’s my choice to continue this pregnancy. I don’t expect anything from you. If you want to bow out, I understand. I have support, so I don’t need—”
“Me? You don’t need me?” I dragged a hand over my face before dropping it into my lap and squaring off with her. “I might need a minute to adjust, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to have a kid walking around in this world and not be a part of their life. No way.”
Based on the way Shira jerked back and her cat meowed, I might’ve been too harsh, but the idea of not knowing my child struck a deep nerve. She wasn’t threatening me. Logically, I knew that. But it felt like she was, so my hackles were up.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“ Fuck ,” I gritted out, pissed I was going about this all wrong. “Look, I’m sorry. This is a lot, and I’m not in my best form. I need to wrap my head around this, but I’m in, Shira. That isn’t a question at all.”
“That’s good. I understand it’s a shock. I still can’t believe it and my body hasn’t felt like my own for weeks.”
She wasn’t as green as she’d been the last time I’d seen her, but she was still far too pale, her cheeks disturbingly gaunt. I hadn’t liked it before I knew she was carrying my baby. Now, it made me furious. With no one to aim my anger at, I got up to pace the length of her empty living room.
“How are you?” I flexed my hands at my sides. “I know you’re not well, but are you doing better? Your friend Bea mentioned medication? Is it helping?”
“I’m doing better, yes. I’ve only thrown up once today, which is incredible for me lately.”
I halted my steps, my eyes lasering in on her. “Because of me?”
Her mouth twitched, but her eyes only lifted to my chin. “It was pretty shocking to find out the man who hates me is the father of my baby.”
“I don’t hate you, Shira. That’s not—”
“It’s fine.” She sucked in a breath, her shoulders rising around her ears. “We can talk about what coparenting will look like later. I’m not up for that right now.”
“That’s a good idea. You need to rest, and I need to let all this sink in.”
I cupped the back of my neck, my gaze sweeping over her. She was so damn delicate, even more so than she’d been in room ten. I didn’t like knowing something I’d done to her was making her as sick as she was. Was it even good for the kid if their mother was throwing up all the time? I had no idea. As soon as I got home, I was going to be looking it up.
“Oh...” Shira climbed to her feet, her cat still tucked against her chest, “I have something for you if you want it.”
I tracked her path into the kitchen, listened to her opening and closing a drawer, and watched her walk back to me. She stopped a good three feet away and extended her hand.
“This is from yesterday,” she said softly. “That's why I was late.”
I took the printout from her, my brow furrowing as I studied it. The image was grainy, and I was no expert, but I made out a round head, torso, and four limbs.
“Holy hell,” I hissed. “It already looks like a baby.”
“Bea downloaded an app. She said the baby’s the size of a strawberry this week.”
I lifted my gaze to look at Shira again. She’d let her cat down and was standing with one foot on top of the other, her sweater twisted around her fist. I made her nervous. How had I not seen that before? But I knew. I’d been blinded by my agenda. I’d gone into GoldMed with a narrative of how things would play out and refused to see anything that didn’t fit that.
“A strawberry?” Using my thumb and index finger, I made a circle about that size, and my heart slammed against my chest. “With legs and arms…I need to download that app. Need to do a lot.”
I held the ultrasound up, unsurprised to find my hand shaking. “Thank you for this. Is it all right if I show it to my brothers?”
“Oh, um…” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, if you want to. I’ve shown it to Bea and Clara—well, they were with me, so they saw it live and in person, but you know what I mean.”
“Right. I’m glad they were there with you.” I took a step back. “I’m going to let you rest. I will text you my phone number so you can let me know when your next appointment is. If you’re comfortable with it, I’d like to be there. And if you need anything else, get in touch with me. Please.”
“Thank you, Roman.”
Her agreement felt more cursory than true, but I couldn’t blame her. Up until an hour ago, I hadn’t once treated her with kindness. Luckily, I had six months to turn that ship around. She was the mother of my child, and I refused to bring our baby into the world in the midst of dissonance.
Once I let this new settle in, I’d make a plan to become the best friend Shira Goldman ever had.
First, I had a baby fruit app to download.