SYLAS
I don’t know what to say. I do, but then I don’t.
I could spend every lifetime apologizing, but it wouldn’t be enough. Nothing I do will ever be enough to make up for what she went through.
So in spite of knowing that, I will spend every waking second helping her in any way I can. She will never do anything alone from now on.
“I hope what I’m going to tell you won’t make you hate me,” I say, cutting through the silence we’ve found ourselves in.
I turn my head to look at her and see that we’re both in the same position, lazily slouched against the couch. Or we were because she sits up, tensing in her spot.
“You’re not going to ask for a paternity test, are you?” I know she meant for that to come off as a joke, but I also know she’s serious.
I hate my parents and what they put her through. I want nothing more than to go see them now, but I still need her to know about what’s to come.
I sit up, turning to mirror her position. I want to close the space between us, hold her in my arms and beg for forgiveness—but I stay put.
“No. I’m sorry to say this, but while Rosie has some of your features, she looks exactly like me,” I voice carefully, but I know she doesn’t like that because she grumbles.
“I would have preferred to hear you say you wanted a paternity test.” She folds one leg over the other, making herself comfortable.
That makes me chuckle, and I think I catch the corner of her mouth twitching.
“Can you be honest with me?” Her question is devoid of humor.
“Always. You know I’ll never lie to you.”
“Did it ever cross your mind? That…maybe she wasn’t yours?”
“No,” I answer immediately, gaze shifting to her hands, which I’d love to take in mine. “The moment I saw her picture, I knew. And I also did the math from when the picture was posted.”
“Oh.” She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth then releases it. “So, you just knew?”
“Yeah, it’s hard forgetting the last time I was really happy.”
I hear the hitch in her breath and watch her pupils dilate. Does she still feel what I feel? Should I tell her my heart has always belonged to her? Will always?
Maybe I should. I can still fix this. I can—
Anna’s the first to break eye contact, drawing it to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “What is it you were going to tell me, and why do you think I’ll hate you?”
She’s closing me out. She doesn’t want me anymore. I knew that. I just hoped…
“When the media finds out, because somehow, I know they will, they’re going to start digging and want to not only ask me questions, but also you,” I start, and gauge her reaction, but she keeps it neutral.
The only sign that she heard me is the slight nod.
“The media doesn’t usually go after hockey players, but with my parents and some of my family members being who they are, they’re going to dig.
Another nod and still silence.
“My team and I are going to work hard to keep you and Rosie out of the limelight. My first priority is making sure you both feel safe and comfortable. But…” I pause, contemplating how I want to say it, but there’s really no other way.
“I also don’t want to keep you two a secret.
I am not ashamed of you or Rosie, and that’s something I want to make very clear. ”
Her brows hike up, and her eyes widen. Her plush pink lips pop open as if she is about to say something, but then she clamps them closed.
“I know you didn’t sign up for this and if you’re upset or want to hate me, that’s okay. But I need you to know what’s coming because we need to be prepared. And who knows, they might not care.”
I try to stay optimistic, although the truth is, I know they will.
She stares at me like she’s aware it’ll be the opposite, that people will show interest.
“If people were losing it over a college basketball player having a kid, I can only imagine how it’ll be for you.”
It was about TJ Kingston. He’s now in the NBA, playing in Toronto, and is known as one of the best shooters in the league.
From what I hear, he’s still with the baby’s mother, Lola.
Thea has actually met them and is a fan of Lola’s work—she’s a live painter and beyond talented.
I hear she’s hard to book because everyone wants to work with her.
Despite all the positives, they bring it up from time to time, using it to talk shit.
No one is safe from the bullshit. Not even a man like TJ who has his life together.
“No matter what, it’s going to be okay. My agent is working to make sure we control what happens and not my parents because they will try.” I expel a harsh breath.
“Bet this wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been me.” She stares straight ahead, fiddling with her earring.
Like a few years ago, her entire ear is adorned with jewelry. I spot the few she got when we were together. Like the tragus—she was a little nervous for that but did it anyway, and it looks good.
“Well, I’m glad it was you.” In every lifetime, it’s you, I want to tell her. “I don’t care what they or anyone thinks. I’m happy it was you.”
She slowly turns to look at me. A smile ghosts her lips, and her whiskey eyes warm when they meet mine. “I guess…I’m happy it was you too. Although I could have done without the height. I had to get three stitches.”
I breathe easier. I hadn’t realized I was struggling until she said those words. She’s happy it was me. I know she didn’t just say that for the hell of it. She means it. She’s happy it was me.
I’m stuck on those words, tempted to ask her to repeat them just so I can record her, but I don’t want to freak her out.
“Wait, height? Three stitches? What do you mean?”
“She tore my vagina she was so big! They had to stitch me.” Anna sweeps her gaze over me, leaving a warm trail in its wake. “And of course that would happen because you’re so huge.”
I try not to wince as I imagine it, but at the reminder I wasn’t there, that I missed it, the image disappears.
I wasn’t there.
“Who was with you when Rosie was born?” I try to cover the sadness with a smile, but it’s hard when her eyes fill with melancholy.
“Just Jenny. She recorded everything, and her commentary is so unfiltered.” Her cheek twitches. “She didn’t hold back, not when I was in labor and not after Rosie was born. But it was nice. It helped me not think about having to push out an almost ten-pound baby and the after.”
“Do you think I can see it?”
“You want to see it?”
“Yeah, I want to see everything. I missed out on so much, and I still have so many questions. But no rush, whenever you’re ready.”
“Yeah, I think I have the videos on my phone.” She glances at the spot next to her then at me. “Do you want to see them now?”
“Please.” I take a seat. I’m not touching her, but I’m so close I could move my thigh an inch and we’d be pressed against each other. “Is this okay?”
She stares up at me, and those brown eyes sink into my soul, wrapping around me and finally stabilizing my equilibrium. The last time I felt this steady we were in my bed, arms and legs tangled, speaking to each other in French because she wanted to practice.
“Yeah, this is okay.”