Chapter Six #2
He was struck by how easily she calmed the child when he became upset, even without him saying any words.
She was patient, comforting him with just her voice.
Admiration and anger warred within him that she’d had to do all of this alone.
She’d raised their son for almost seven years whilst also building a career and a home.
He listened to her gently explain why Luca needed to let the nanny put him to bed, how their plans for their trip tomorrow had changed and she knew that was uncomfortable for him.
Apollo moved closer as he heard the small voice repeat her words every few moments and fought the urge to intrude, to demand to speak to his son.
Another voice came onto the phone, a young woman who Astrid greeted as Jem.
The girl asked if they could chat about an issue she was having with what sounded like a university application and Astrid’s face changed.
She gestured to him in apology and quickly excused herself from the room as she switched the phone off speaker mode and listened.
Engulfed in the sudden silence, he found himself filled with nervous energy.
Opening his phone, he searched for her name and clicked into social media accounts he’d never seen.
He didn’t manage his own online presence or spend a lot of time on the Internet, as he hated the waste of time and didn’t enjoy the chaotic mix of scrutiny and adoration for his public persona.
There was one website that showed an interview with Astrid about motherhood and business; a few photographs were included and he took a seat in a wingback chair as he zoomed into each one: Astrid with a rounded bump on the race track; Astrid holding a newborn bundle.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, scouring through every photo and interview like a starving man, trying to piece together how on earth this had happened.
There were very few photos of Luca on the Internet, and he found himself grateful to Astrid for that, as he realised how important his son’s safety was to him.
But even the few images of the boy’s side profile he’d found on Elite One websites made his chest tighten painfully.
His son liked the cars. He could see it in the eager stretch of his small hands over the barriers, and in the official team t-shirts and caps he wore—Accardi caps.
A sense of pride filled him, seeing the familiar lettering above the boy’s face: his family’s name.
His son was an Accardi by blood. He should have been the one holding him as they watched the racing, just as his grandfather had done with him when he’d been a boy.
Adrenaline thrummed through him, as if he wanted to run.
But for once it was not to run away, but towards this new dimension of his world that had just been presented to him.
He never wanted to let them out of his sight.
But, with the press already on his heels, he’d created an even worse mess.
He had not planned the damned party yesterday, but he hadn’t stopped his father either.
He’d known it looked terrible and would draw media attention, but he hadn’t cared then.
He’d only had himself to worry about, his own image.
Now…he didn’t quite know how these things worked but he knew he had a right to see his son. He knew that was what he wanted. He knew he wouldn’t hide his son’s existence either; he wouldn’t miss another moment more as Luca’s father than he already had.
He waited another half hour before allowing his impatience to win out and going in search of Astrid, only to find she’d fallen asleep on top of the four-poster bed in his guest room.
She was still fully dressed, her phone clutched in her hand.
She looked tired, her hair mussed and unpinned in a fashion that reminded him of the kisses they’d shared.
Of how quickly she’d come undone in his arms, disproving her claims of being unaffected by the desire between them.
She wasn’t physically unaffected, but he knew she’d been serious when she’d said she would never risk her professional reputation for a driver. But he wasn’t her driver now…he was her son’s father.
He was the man who, unknowingly, had walked away and left a woman pregnant and alone to raise their child for almost seven damned years.
He hadn’t noticed the condom fail, hadn’t run after her and insisted they exchange numbers.
He’d been out in the world, racing, building his own brand and travelling, living his life as a carefree bachelor.
Meanwhile, she had borne the entire responsibility of the consequences of their actions.
He pulled the blanket up from the bottom of the bed, covering her.
He paused for a long moment, his mind poring over the events of the day.
She let out a small sound, her face turning away from him, as though even while sleeping she could sense the dangerous nature of his thoughts.
He had told her he wouldn’t give her the chance to run from him again.
He believed her when she said she wouldn’t try to keep him from his child, but still he felt a strange sense of possession as he looked down at her.
He inhaled a deep breath and closed the door softly behind him on Astrid’s seductively slumbering form. Growing up as he had, the child of acrimoniously divorced parents, he’d long ago made peace with his choice to remain single and child-free. But life had a way of changing the best laid plans.
One thing was certain—his son would not grow up the way he had, torn between two homes. He knew Astrid would fight him, he would expect nothing less, but he had no intention of letting go of a perfectly good chance to make this right.