Chapter 9 #2
If I didn’t know, if I hadn’t been there, I would have believed him.
I would have taken one look at the confusion tugging at his features, the tinge of desperation in his questions, and would have been taken in by all of it.
But it hadn’t been long enough for me to forget my flight back home to Seattle, when the attendants felt so sorry for me, they gave me my own row so I could cry in privacy.
How he’d looked at me, the things he’d said.
How very cruel he’d been in turning me away.
“Of course that’s what I’m saying.”
“What?” he rasped, slowly sliding down the door. “Mazzy, what? What’s happening? You had my daughter, and you didn’t—” He choked, then folded in on himself, bracing his hands on his knees. “You didn’t tell me?”
I stumbled back in shock. There was something wrong here. Something so off, I didn’t understand what was happening.
“You know I told you.” He was breathing so heavily, almost heaving. I couldn’t stop myself from going to him. Crouching down, I touched his face, getting his attention. “Ben, I came here and told you I was pregnant. You sent me away. You don’t remember that? Truly?”
He grabbed my wrist, holding my hand against his cheek. “I can’t think. I don’t…Mazzy, please. I don’t know. I need—”
The mom in me kicked in. No matter my personal feelings for Ben, he was going through something, and I had to help him.
Standing up, I took his hand in mine and pulled him to the nearest chair. He wouldn’t let go of me, so I got down on my knees in front of him and placed my free hand on his chest.
“Okay, I’m not going anywhere. Let’s talk. Something is going on, and we’ll figure it out. I need you to breathe slowly, in and out.”
His eyes were wet when they found mine, clouded in confusion. “I haven’t seen you since LA.”
“That isn’t true.” I blew out a heavy breath.
“My dad and I found you online. He flew me out here, and I waited by the players’ entrance on a game day.
You walked up to me, acted like you didn’t know me, which really sucked, but I told you anyway.
I told you I was having your baby, and you said it wasn’t yours.
You said if I tried to get anything from you or told anyone about it, you’d sue me.
Then you told me good luck and walked away. ”
He shook his head. “But I’ve never forgotten you.”
I lifted my shoulder. “Then I guess you lied.”
“I wouldn’t have. I’d have been happy as hell to see you. And pregnant? I would have been shocked, but—”
“Please stop talking like this didn’t happen.
How are we going to move forward if we can’t agree I came here to tell you, and you wanted nothing to do with either of us?
Do I need to show you proof? I still have the plane tickets and texts with my dad.
I have emails I sent to a lawyer to cover my bases.
I can send you all of it if that’s what it takes. Ben, it happened.”
He swiped at his eye and sucked in a shaky breath.
“Everything you’re saying is foreign to me.
I believe you, but I’m not lying. I need to think.
If you tell me the date, I can look back at my records.
Maybe I had a concussion? I don’t know. Even out of my mind, I don’t feel I would’ve reacted that way.
That’s not me.” He chuffed. “It sounds more like Roman. We share the same DNA, but I always say he got all the uptight genes.”
“The same DNA?” I whispered, my face tingling. “He’s your twin?”
I had to be grasping at straws. There was no way this could be the explanation. Then I took stock of that day. Of how different he’d seemed. The same face, but his curls, the way he spoke…
“Yeah. Identical,” he confirmed.
“Does he—” I swallowed hard, wishing for this to be untrue. “Does he play rugby too?”
“Used to until he got injured. But he shows up for most of the games.” His brow furrowed. “Why are you asking about Rome?”
“Hey, Romeo!”
Oh god. No, no, no. All these years, so much pain shoved deep in my heart—and it was mistaken identity? It couldn’t be.
But it seemed like maybe it was.
“Do people ever call him Romeo?” I asked, my throat so tight it was hard to breathe.
“Fans did…” The lines between his eyebrows carved into great crevices. “Why?”
I sank back on my heels as horror dawned. I had to be wrong. There was no way…
“Does he use the players’ entrance too?” I asked weakly, the last vestiges of hope floating away like feathers in the wind.
The same horror hit Ben as his spine snapped straight and his eyes shot to me, wide with understanding.
“Fuck. Was it—it was Roman? You talked to Roman.” He dragged his hands down his face then lifted his gaze to mine, and the sorrow struck me like a bolt of lightning. “We have a daughter?”
I must have nodded. I wasn’t entirely in control of my body, to be sure. “We have a daughter.”
His throat bobbed as his eyes traveled over my face. Though I wasn’t sure he was really seeing me. His eyes were glazed and far away, like he was drifting over the last few years, finding all the empty spaces where Katty should have been.
I pulled myself together, tucking the gaping loss aside to gather Ben back to the moment.
“Her name is Kateryna, but we call her Katty.”
He jerked at the sound of my voice and stared at me like he was confused until what I’d said settled. Then he licked his lips.
“Katty,” he whispered with reverence. “Kateryna.”
I nodded. “It’s Ukrainian. Where I was born. I thought it would be nice…”
“It is nice. I love her name.” He scooted forward in his chair, eagerness replacing despair. “When can I meet her?”
“I don’t know. I’m honestly a little overwhelmed and need a minute to think.” That was an understatement. “Can we talk tonight? I have to go back to work, then I have class, but I can call after Katty’s in bed.”
“Yes,” he practically shouted. “Yes, please. Call me tonight.”
“All right.” My head was spinning so fast I was about to shoot out into orbit. “I think I should go. This is a lot, and I have to work, a—”
Ben took my hand and squeezed it gently. “Don’t freak out, Mazzy. I’m counting on you to be the levelheaded one. I’m about to blow.”
I looked at him, and something about the wetness clinging to his lashes and the flush in his cheeks settled me. He was as overwhelmed as I was. Maybe more so. Seeing that made me feel not quite as panicked. This was crazy, life changing, but at least I wasn’t going through it alone.
Not this time.
I squeezed his hand in return. “Hey, Ben?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you rather find out you have a four-and-a-half-year-old daughter or slam your face into a plate of steaming hot spaghetti?”
It took a beat, but his smile returned, full blast. “Daughter. Definitely a daughter.”