Chapter 47 Shit Dads Club
Shit Dads Club
Nate to Carina: We’re going to be the fun uncle and auntie! [delivered]
Kai
"What am I supposed to do?"
Nate stares at me, blinking rapidly like he’s still buffering. "She’s pregnant? For sure?"
I lean my head against the pink sofa cushions. We’re in his living room—Carina took Tess out for lunch, so I’m using the time to get advice. Tess gave me permission to tell Nate about the paternity question, knowing I needed someone to talk to.
"If the bajillion tests she took are to be trusted."
"Shit."
"That’s not all."
"Don’t tell me—it’s an alien," he jokes.
"It might not be mine."
Silence.
More silence.
Then Nate bolts upright. "She cheated on you? When the fuck did she even have time—"
"No, dumbass." I swallow hard, hating the reminder. "Nikolai."
Nate’s jaw drops. "Oh—oh fuck."
He sinks back down, deflating like someone cut his strings.
I rake a hand through my hair—too long and overdue for a cut. "Yep."
"What are you gonna do?" he asks.
I shrug. "We haven’t really had a chance to discuss all the options yet—but whatever she wants, I’ll support her."
Nate coughs into his hand. "Whipped."
I smack him in the chest. "Like you can talk. You’re fucking obsessed."
His face lights up. "Have you seen my fiancée? Who wouldn’t be?"
I groan, shaking my head. "I don’t know how to be a father."
"Ohhh yeah, wrong person for that conversation. We’re all part of the Shit Dads Club."
"Helpful, man."
"Look, I know nothing about parenting—and I have zero desire to learn—but if you’re trying, how badly can you really fuck it up?"
I glare.
"No, seriously," he says, suddenly more grounded. "You’re not your dad. And I’m pretty confident you’re not gonna be a rapist or a nonce like mine and Carina’s fathers. So... you’re already doing better."
"Wow, the bar is in hell," I mutter.
My phone lights up with Tess’s name.
"Hey, Hurricane. You good?"
"Yeah! I’m fine!" she says in a tone that screams the opposite.
"What’s wrong?"
"Nothing! It’s just..."
Silence.
"Carina left, and then the house got all quiet, and I just... wanted to hear your voice."
Before I can respond, she keeps going.
"Gosh, that’s so pathetic, isn’t it? I’m so embarrassed. Seriously, I’m fine. Forget I even called."
"Hurricane?"
"Hmm?"
"I’ll be home soon. Put some music on. Cook something—that usually helps."
"Oh! Good idea. Okay. Thanks. Love you."
"Love you too."
She hangs up. I start to stand, and Nate does the same.
"So, we’re saying I love you now?" he teases, waggling his eyebrows.
I roll my eyes, heading for the door.
He claps me on the back in a half hug. "Seriously, man. You’ll be a great father."
"You and Carina gonna start popping out kids soon?"
He shudders. "Abso—fucking—lutely not. We are not about that life." He laughs. "You have fun though."
I use the drive home to think.
Nate’s right, I guess—I’m not my father. I’d never do what he did.
It’s all happening so fast. Too fast.
Tess and I are only just starting to find something that resembles normal, away from the bloodshed and chaos.
But maybe we’ll never have that. Maybe we’re not meant to.
Our best friends are serial killers. Her biological family is mafia. Normal was never in the cards.
Still, despite all the uncertainty, there’s one thing I’m sure of: she makes me lose control. She strips away the rigidity I used to hide behind—and somehow, I’m grateful for it.
My life is better with her in it.
She brings a joy I didn’t know I was missing.
So yeah—this baby is throwing me for a loop.
And yeah—it’s way too soon.
But I want to try.
When I get home, Tess is in the kitchen. Pots and pans are scattered everywhere—typical. She spins as I walk in, throwing herself into my arms, wrapping hers around my neck and tangling her fingers in my hair.
I press a soft kiss to her lips before pulling back.
"How are you?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
"Fine," she mumbles, turning away.
"Don’t lie, Tess. Tell me how you’re really feeling."
She takes a shaky breath. "I had a panic attack after Carina left. But the music and cooking helped. After our call."
I move behind her, rest my chin on her shoulder, and place my hands gently on her stomach. My thumb traces circles over the non-existent bump.
"It’s going to be okay," I whisper. "Eventually, the memories will be just that—memories."
She nods, leaning back into me. "I know. I just wish I was already at that point."
I wish I could do more. I want nothing more than for her to forget what he did.
But this isn’t something I can fix.
All I can do is be here. Support her.
And I will.
For as long as she lets me.