Chapter 34
Chandler
I lifted both hands over my head, clenching the wooden handle of the axe tightly before heaving it overhand toward the target in front of me. It hit the target, barely missing the center, with a loud, splintering sound. I looked at it proudly, putting my hands on my hips.
“What the hell?” asked Wyatt, scratching his head as he looked from me to my axe. “Were you a lumberjack in another life?”
I shrugged, walking up to the target and prying the axe away from the splintering wood, ready to give it another go.
Axe-throwing had been Wyatt’s suggestion when he saw how many pent-up emotions I had when he met me outside my apartment after I had called him.
Without me saying a word, he gave me one wary glance and hailed a cab.
I lifted the axe over my head and hurled it again at the target, this time missing the inner rings completely.
I let out a frustrated grunt and went to try again, prying the axe from the target and getting into position.
I hurled it again, letting out a yell, and watched as the axe tumbled through the air and sliced the target.
“Okay, Mr. Macho. My turn,” said Wyatt, picking up his axe and walking toward his own target.
He lifted it up over his head and tossed it, missing the circular target completely.
I laughed out loud from where I had taken a seat at the high-top table.
He lifted his hand and gave me a vulgar gesture before trying again.
I was feeling better already. Well, as good as I could be after today’s unexpected encounter with Mr. Harold.
My surprise had quickly turned to anger the more I thought about it.
Gabriella and I were both consenting adults who made our own choices.
He shouldn’t have a say or opinion on that, other than it being his daughter.
Okay, yeah. That was complicated. But she was a grown woman.
Plus, Mr. Harold was no longer the CEO. He shouldn’t have a say in what went on in his old office.
I thought I was the one in charge. The old man needed to know when to let go, not only of his company, but of his daughter, too.
I could feel my anger bubbling up inside of me and was ready to toss another axe.
It really was cathartic. Wyatt knew just where to take me.
We flung a few more axes until our brows were both damp with sweat. I was glad I had changed out of my suit and into a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. I doubted a custom suit was the proper attire for a place like this. I sat down at the high-top, Wyatt taking the seat across from me.
“All right. Out with it,” he said after drinking a sip from his water bottle. He eyed me curiously, raising a brow.
“What?” I shrugged, twisting the cap off my water and chugging half of it.
“You looked like you were about to throat punch someone when I picked you up…”
I rolled my eyes. I hadn’t looked that upset. Maybe I had.
I had only spent the last hour pacing my apartment and going over every word Mr. Harold said and going over everything I predicted he had said to Gabriella.
The number of times I had pulled my phone out to call her was embarrassing, yet I never pulled the trigger.
I figured I was the last person she would want to talk to after everything that had happened. After the way I had treated her.
“It’s the girl, isn’t it?” asked Wyatt, breaking me from my thoughts.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead, annoyed that my friend could read my mind, but also grateful for it too.
I wasn’t one to open up much, but if anyone could pry me open, it was him.
And Gabriella, but I had done that willingly.
She didn’t even have to try. I didn’t know why it had been so easy that night in the office.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said nonchalantly, as if I wasn’t the one who had called him to meet up in need of someone to talk to.
Wyatt was quiet for a moment, looking over at a couple of other guys throwing axes down the way. His fingers drummed against his water bottle mindlessly. Then he looked at me like he had something to say, but wasn’t sure how.
“What?” I asked sharply.
He blew out a sigh and ran a hand through his light hair. “Nathan called me…”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, wondering why the hell my brother had called him. It wasn’t like the two of them were close. I started to get an uneasy feeling in my stomach.
“Yeah.” Wyatt nodded slowly.
“And?” I asked, growing impatient.
“He told me everything,” he said quickly.
“What the fuck?” I said slowly, my anger creeping up my neck and heating my face.
“I think he’s just worried about you,” said Wyatt quickly. “Don’t be mad at him.”
“Oh, I’m pissed. He had no right to tell you about my personal life.”
“Well, were you going to tell me?” he asked, narrowing his gaze.
“Eventually,” I said with a shrug.
“When the baby was born?” he asked incredulously.
I winced slightly. Hearing the words from his mouth made it that much more real.
I had been putting off coming to terms with the fact that Gabriella was pregnant because I was scared shitless.
But now that her father knew, and apparently a nosy board member, and now my best friend, there was really no running from it.
“I don’t know, man,” I said with a defeated shake of my head. “My life is a fucking mess. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Hell, I wouldn’t know either. But you can talk to me. You have to talk to someone,” he said. “You can’t just throw axes all day, no matter how therapeutic it is.”
I chuckled. “It really is. I needed it after today.”
“What happened?”
“Mr. Harold found out about the pregnancy…”
“Oh shit.” He looked at me wide-eyed.
“Yep.”
“I take it, it didn’t go well?”
“He fired me. And I’m not even sure he’s allowed to do that…”
“Yeah, you might want to have your lawyer look into that,” said Wyatt furrowing his brow.
“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know. I royally fucked up. I don’t want to make it messier than it already is. I would hate for it to reach the press and become an even bigger shitstorm. I should just bow out quietly.”
“You?” Wyatt nearly choked. “You never back down.”
“I know.”
Wyatt took a deep breath. “And the baby?”
I rubbed my hands up my cheeks. “I don’t know, man. It’s a baby. That was not on my bingo card. Not now. Not ever, I don’t think. It’s a big fucking deal.”
“Yeah. It’s a big decision to make,” he said. “Do you know what Gabriella wants to do?”
I shook my head and looked down at the ground.
“You’re not talking?” he pried gently.
“Not about that.”
“Do you think she’ll keep it?”
“No idea.”
“Well, don’t you think you should ask?” asked Wyatt, impatience in his voice.
“Why are you grilling me so much?” I snapped.
He closed his lips tightly and put his hand up in defense.
He leaned back in his chair and stayed quiet.
They were valid questions. Ones I had tried to answer myself many times since Gabriella had told me about the baby.
It wasn’t like I had forgotten what a big deal this was.
No matter how much I tried to run from it, I couldn’t.
The answer should be simple. I would be with Gabriella and have this baby with her.
She was amazing. She was sharp, witty, effortlessly sexy, and challenged me without fear.
She put me in my place when I needed it, even though it pissed me off.
Not only could she take me on, but she was a good person.
I saw how she was kind to everyone, and it wasn’t just for show or because she was the boss’s daughter. She genuinely had a good heart.
I knew she was scared and that her life had been turned upside down, but deep down, I knew she would be a good mother.
I could see it play out in my head so easily.
Her rocking the baby to sleep. Dancing around the kitchen with the baby in her arms. Changing diapers with ease and warming up bottles.
She would put so much care and love into being a mother.
I wondered if she could see it herself. I wondered if anyone had told her, or if she was filled with doubt.
I felt my guilt eat away at me for not being the support she needed.
But just as easily as I envisioned her being a good mother, I also could see how horrible of a father I would be.
I didn’t know the first thing about babies, or caring about someone other than myself or my work.
I was terrified I would screw everything up, and hurt Gabriella even more in the process.
I wasn’t sure how I could explain that to her without it seeming like an excuse.
Without it seeming like I was walking out on her.
Plus, I didn’t even know if she wanted me in her life anymore.
It had been weeks since she told me about the baby, and I had iced her out, acting like it had never happened.
I knew it hurt her. I saw it in her eyes that morning in the office when she showed up early to gather her things and I had shut the door on her, physically and emotionally.
“I’m sorry,” said Wyatt softly from across the table.
“Nah.” I waved him off. “I was an ass.”
“Well, if you’re admitting it…” He smirked.
I gave him a vulgar gesture before nodding toward the door. “Let’s grab a beer, yeah?”
“Please. The drama of your life calls for some alcohol.”
“Tell me about it.”
We settled in at the bar next door, finding two seats at the bar top. I took a long sip of the amber liquid and felt relaxed already as I sunk back into the barstool.
“Did Nathan tell you about my argument with Greg?” I asked, feeling more talkative now that everything was out in the open.
“An argument with Greg? You don’t say?” said Wyatt, dripping with sarcasm.
“Ha. Ha.” I muttered.
“What happened?” he laughed, taking a sip of beer.
“He said he cared about me and wanted to help.”
“Wow. What an asshole.”
I shot Wyatt a sharp look, to which he took another swig of beer to hide his smile.
“He told me I shouldn’t run from this. Something about being a father was all about the choices you make. He didn’t want me to make the same ones as my own father.”
“I mean, he’s right…” Wyatt shrugged. “You’re not him, you know? Just because you had a shitty dad, doesn’t mean you have to be one, too.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was genetically passed down,” I said, knowing it sounded dumb.
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” said Wyatt, tilting his head slightly in amusement before growing serious. “I hate to admit it, but I agree with Greg. A little. You’re obviously torn up about this because you care. Maybe, there’s a part of you that wants this.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged, trying to wrap my head around the idea of being a father.
“Don’t let fear hold you back, man.” He clapped his hand around my shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.
Maybe Wyatt was right, and Greg too.