Eight
ANGELO
E ver since that phone call a few days ago, Angelo found himself in a perpetual state of shock. “I’m going to be a father,” he repeated to himself, half hoping it would sink in. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Allison; it was just that the whole idea felt surreal, like he was caught in a bizarre fever dream. He half-expected to wake up one morning and find out it was all just a figment of his imagination.
Amidst this life-altering news, Angelo was knee-deep in work, sifting through corporate documents for her father’s company. He was on a mission to find any dirt he could use against the man—dirt that might just save him from this merger that felt like an impending disaster.
His father had been opposed to it from the very beginning, and Angelo couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion that Lockwood had something up his sleeve to twist his father’s arm into compliance. After all, Angelo suspected the board didn’t want this merger to happen, although he still hadn’t managed to get replies by two members.
But instead, he was diving headfirst into a corporate minefield, all while grappling with the thought of impending fatherhood. What was he even going to do with a tiny human? Teach it how to wield a PowerPoint presentation?
The weight of the news settled heavier on Angelo’s chest as he paced around his spacious, neat apartment. It suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks: he couldn’t just keep this to himself. He had to tell his family. The thought sent a jolt of panic through him.
Telling his parents and sister that he was going to be a father felt like preparing to jump out of an airplane without a parachute. He could already picture their reactions: his mother’s eyes widening to the size of saucers, his father’s stoic expression transforming into a mix of confusion and disappointment, and his sister—well, she’d probably burst into laughter and mock him mercilessly.
Panic began to bubble in his stomach as he mentally rehearsed the conversations.
What if they’re disappointed?
What if they think I’m not capable of handling such a monumental role?
“Okay, think,” he said aloud, running a hand through his hair. “How do I drop this bombshell without it exploding in my face?”
The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. Maybe he could ease them into it with some small talk. Start with, “Hey, did you know the weather’s nice?” and then, right as they were agreeing, hit them with, “Oh, and by the way, I’m going to be a father!”
With every minute that passed, the anxiety twisted tighter in his gut. What if they didn’t support him? What if they thought he was completely unprepared for parenthood? He was still figuring out how to run his own company; how was he supposed to care for a tiny human?
Finally, he steeled himself. He couldn’t keep dodging the inevitable any longer. He would call them all in a few minutes and get it over with. As he rehearsed his lines, pacing back and forth like an anxious actor preparing for an audition, he felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him.
With a deep inhale, he steeled himself for the conversations ahead. No backing out now. After all, if he could dig up dirt on a corporate giant, surely he could handle a couple of announcements.
Angelo decided to go for the lesser evil and call his sister, Katerina.
She didn’t pick up on the first try, but Angelo refused to call someone else before her and let her find out through the grapevine—also known as their mother—so he tried again.
“ Aderfé! ” Katerina exclaimed when she finally answered. Brother. It was one of the few Greek words she ever used with him, despite it being her native language and her speaking it far better than he ever could. She’d always preferred speaking English with him, and he appreciated that she cared enough to bridge the gap.
Being eight years older than Katerina, Angelo had given up on finding common ground between them as soon as he turned ten. But as she grew up, she began showing genuine interest in his life and made an effort to draw closer to him, even from across the ocean. And Angelo cherished his baby sister more than anything else in the world—well, almost anything. Two new people would soon join that short list.
“Katia, I have some news, but I need you to keep it to yourself until I can tell mamá . I promise I’ll tell her right after I hang up with you. Alright?” He was getting ahead of himself, but Angelo had to prepare for the fallout.
After a brief moment of silence, Katia confirmed she’d keep his secret—though he doubted her ability to resist the temptation. With a short breath, he broke the news.
“I’m going to be a father.”
“A father?” she echoed, her voice teetering on the edge between disbelief and laughter. “Are you sure you don’t mean a dog father? Because I could totally see you with a poodle.”
“Ha, very funny,” he shot back, rolling his eyes even though she couldn’t see him. “I assure you, it’s definitely a human baby, not a poodle. Though I might need one to keep the kid entertained. You can imagine how I’ll be with diapers.”
“Gross! You’re not seriously expecting to change diapers, are you?” Katerina laughed, the sound brightening his mood. “You can barely handle the laundry. Remember that time you thought colors and whites were the same?”
“Hey, I was fifteen and inspired! Besides, I’m pretty sure that pink shirt looked great on me,” he retorted, feigning indignation. “But back to the subject. I need to be serious for a minute.”
“Okay, okay, serious face on,” Katia said, and he could almost picture her mockingly pressing her lips together, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “So, who’s the unlucky girl?”
“Her name’s Allison,” Angelo said, hesitating for a moment. “Lockwood. We had a one-night stand months ago and—”
“Wait. Give me a second.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Angelo could practically hear the gears grinding in Katia’s mind. Then, just as he expected, she started laughing so hard she sounded like a dying baby seal.
“Are you serious, Angie?” Katia asked, still laughing.
“Katerina, come on! I’ve asked you a million times not to call me that!” Angelo scoffed at the silly nickname his baby sister loved to torture him with. “And yes, I’m serious.”
“Your business rival? That’s the plot twist I didn’t see coming! Are you sure this isn’t some elaborate prank?”
Angelo knew, logically, that Katerina’s question made sense. It could very well be a lie—a tactic to get him to agree to the merger with Allison’s father. Yet there was something in her eyes that made him trust her.
“No, it’s not a prank,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Turns out, my love life is basically a soap opera at this point.”
“Wow. So, you really went for the ‘keeping your enemies close’ strategy, huh?” She laughed. “This is like a reality show waiting to happen.”
“Don’t remind me,” Angelo said, shaking his head. “I can already hear the family dinners filled with passive-aggressive comments. ‘Oh, how’s the baby doing? I hope she takes after her mother in business sense and not her father.’”
“Classic!” Katia said, practically cackling. A moment later, she was perfectly serious as she spoke again. “Just make sure you don’t get hurt.”
Angelo’s heart warmed at his sister’s concern. “Don’t worry, mikrí . I’ll be alright.”
“Don’t call me that, Angie .”
He chuckled as he pictured the way his baby sister would be sticking out her tongue right now, likely in an exaggerated manner that only a six-year-old could pull off. A couple of silly remarks later about how she could probably win a gold medal in the Olympic sport of tongue-sticking, they hung up.
One down, two to go.
Angelo then considered whether he would be safer talking with his father or his mother. He imagined the phone call with his mother: a whirlwind of emotions, the dramatic flair of a soap opera star, and a penchant for panic that made him feel like he was standing on a ticking time bomb.
So, he quickly decided on his dad. William Taylor was a lot of things—grumpy at times, a master of dad jokes, and notorious for his ‘dad wisdom’ that often involved telling Angelo to “walk it off” whenever he had a minor scrape—but at the very least, he wasn’t prone to hysterics. In fact, the last time he’d gotten worked up was when Katerina had broken a nose, although thankfully not her own.
Sighing deeply, Angelo dialed his father’s number, his heart racing with anticipation. He half-expected his dad to answer with a grunt, like a bear just roused from hibernation, groggy and annoyed. Instead, after a long pause, a heavy sigh resonated through the line, sending a wave of worry washing over him.
“Hey, Dad. Is everything okay?” Angelo asked, trying to keep his voice steady, even as anxiety gnawed at him.
His father cleared his throat before replying, “Yes, Son. What do you need?”
Angelo swallowed nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt with a finger. A sense of absurdity washed over him, making him feel like a cartoon character suddenly caught in an awkward moment. He could almost picture himself with bulging eyes and a comically exaggerated expression, unsure of how to navigate the conversation ahead.
Angelo cleared his throat, the sensation reminiscent of the time his father had caught him trying to smoke a cigar at age ten. The memory flooded back—a mix of shame and defiance, standing there with the cigar clumsily clenched between his fingers. He could almost hear his father’s incredulous voice echoing in his mind. Now, he felt the weight of that same apprehension, about to confess another secret.
He accidentally blurted it out. “I’m going to be a father. It was one night, and I was drunk, and I didn’t check for protection, and I know I should have—”
Angelo’s father cut him off. “Pause.”
And Angelo did, a rush of emotions swirling within him. His father had always insisted on that whenever Angelo’s thoughts ran wild, a grounding technique that felt both comforting and daunting in this moment: “A businessman needs a clear mind, son. When your thoughts feels foggy, just pause.”
Angelo shut his eyes tight, willing himself to calm down. He needed clarity to navigate this conversation, to articulate the whirlwind of feelings crashing over him.
“Now, did you have unprotected sex with a stranger, Angelo?” his father demanded, his voice steady but laced with a sharp edge.
Angelo winced at the words. Though his father’s tone wasn’t cold, it felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him, chilling him to the core.
“Yes,” he croaked out, his throat suddenly dry and tight.
“Have you checked who she is?” His father’s inquiry was direct, his voice piercing through the phone and straight into Angelo as if searching for any hint of denial.
“Allison Lockwood,” he replied, the name hanging in the air like a weighty confession.
Silence stretched between them, taut and suffocating, threatening to swallow Angelo whole. He could feel his heart racing, each beat echoing in the stillness, amplifying the tension. He wanted to say something more, to explain the situation, but the words felt stuck in his throat, trapped by the gravity of his father’s scrutiny.
“And you have confirmed this pregnancy?” his father asked, his voice steady but edged with concern.
“Yes, Father. We’ll be going to the doctor in a few days.” Angelo suddenly had to bite down hard on his tongue, fighting the urge to lash out at his father’s question.
Katerina had already asked him the same question, but hearing it from his father hit differently. While Katerina’s inquiry had been filled with concern and a hint of support, his father’s tone was sharper, more demanding. The weight of expectation loomed larger with every syllable, pressing down on him like a heavy shroud.
Keep it together .
“And you’re going to take responsibility for this child?” The question hung in the air like a weight. Angelo’s anger flared. It was bad enough that his father doubted Allison’s character, but now he was questioning his own?
“Yes,” Angelo replied through gritted teeth, each word laced with barely contained frustration.
That was all he could manage without losing his temper. He knew that anything more could lead to a confrontation he didn’t want. It wouldn’t be good for anyone involved.
His father paused, and Angelo could sense the gears turning in his mind. The seconds stretched out between them, each tick of the clock amplifying the tension in his apartment.
Seven. . Nine. Ten. Eleven.
Angelo counted in his head, trying to maintain his composure as the silence became suffocating.
Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. een.
Finally, his father spoke. “Then congratulations, son. I’m happy for you.”
The words hung in the air like a lifeline, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Angelo exhaled, allowing himself to breathe again.
A much calmer, more relaxed moment later, their call was over. His father didn’t seem angry. He only had one very reasonable request, but Angelo didn’t want to think of that yet.
It was now time for his greatest nightmare to come alive.
Mamá will kill me. Goodbye, my child; it was nice knowing you existed.
Angelo tried to shake the ridiculous thoughts from his mind—literally shake them out. He stood there, tense, as if he could physically dislodge the fear that clung to him like a second skin. But the little demons of doubt were persistent, refusing to let go.
Lia Papadopoulou was a Greek woman, a fierce and protective Greek mother . Although she portrayed the typical “my child can do no wrong” mentality to the outside world, that facade crumbled the moment they were alone. In private, her love was fierce, but so was her discipline.
The usual way she handled their indiscretions was by being brutally honest, often wielding tough love like a weapon. She didn’t shy away from calling them out when they messed up; she believed that was how they would learn. And right now, with a child on the way and no idea how to handle it, he could only imagine her fury.
Angelo sent a quick prayer up above and pressed the call button. His mother picked up on the first ring.
“ ángele ?” Her voice was instantly warm, yet laced with an unmistakable edge of curiosity. That was all the greeting she needed. “You remembered your mamá ? An oven must be collapsing.”
Here we go. Greek sarcasm in all its glory.
“ Kaliméra, Mamá ,” he replied, wishing her a good morning with a forced lightness into his tone despite the weight on his chest.
His mom had lived in America long enough before she divorced his father that speaking English wasn’t an issue, but she always preferred Greek, as if it anchored her to her roots.
“I have something to tell you, and I need you to stay calm. Okay?”
Angelo knew full well that she would absolutely not stay calm, but it didn’t hurt to ask. The request hung in the air, a futile plea that he hoped would somehow soften the blow he was about to deliver.
“Calm? You must be joking! Just tell me already!” she replied, her voice a mixture of concern and impatience, as if she sensed the gravity of the news before he even spoke it.
He hesitated, gathering his thoughts, knowing that the moment he revealed the truth, there would be no turning back.
“Um… I’m going to be a father.” Angelo winced as the words left his mouth, the reality of what he just said crashing down on him.
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, a heavy stillness that felt like an eternity. He could almost hear his mother’s heart racing as she processed his announcement.
“ Ti? ” she finally replied, her voice a mix of disbelief and confusion. “What did you just say?”
Angelo could picture her pacing the kitchen, hands on her hips, as she prepared for the inevitable onslaught of questions.
“I said I’m going to be a father, Mamá .”
The pause that followed was thick with tension. He braced himself for her reaction, knowing full well that her response would be anything but calm.
“Who?”
“What do you—”
“Her name, ángele .”
Angelo sighed, getting dizzy over the amount of times he’d had the same conversation.
“Allison Lockwood.”
“How could you—? Do you even understand what this means?” Her voice rose, a blend of panic and anger simmering just beneath the surface.
“I do understand. I promise,” he said, his own anxiety bubbling up. “I’m going to take responsibility.”
“Responsibility?” she scoffed, disbelief palpable in her tone. “Do you think that’s the problem? She’s fooling you! She’s your enemy’s daughter!”
Deep breaths. Deep fucking breaths.
“She’s not lying, Mamá . It’s true.”
“Still, I know I taught you better than to shove your dick inside girls without a care in the wind!” She practically screamed into the phone. Angelo didn’t even get to blink, before she continued, “And you shoved it in naked too?! ángele, ntropi sou! ”
His mother used her favorite phrase. Angelo assumed she just enjoyed saying ‘shame on you’, because it was somewhat of a habit of hers.
“ Mamá , stamáta ,” he growled, stopping her and she hesitated, giving him just enough time to continue. “What’s done is done now. I’m going to be involved in this pregnancy and the child’s life, so you can stop raging. You’re going to be a yiayiá .” Angelo knew that last part would shut her up for good. She’d always pestered him about wanting to become a grandmother.
He was right. His mother stopped speaking—an incredibly rare occasion for Lia Papadopoulou. The woman was constantly running her mouth every second of every day.
She huffed. Hard. And then she just said, “Is she a good girl?”
Angelo’s face stretched into a smile as he thought of his Pinkie.
No, no. Not mine.
He blinked, stopping that train of thought, before saying, “She’s the best. And she’s going to be an incredible mother.”
His mother continued to pester him for a few minutes, asking him the basic two questions of every Greek mom.
Have you eaten? Yes, Mamá.
Are you wearing warm clothes? I’m inside, Mamá.
Then she made him promise to call her soon. Nai, Mamá.
And that was that. Somehow, his chest felt a bit lighter. He knew it was because he talked to his mom. No matter his issues with her, Angelo would always love his mamá .
Even though I wanna punch myself in the eye when I talk to her sometimes.