Leave Me Breathless: The Ivy Collection

by KL Donn

  I turn and zero in on Jasper, picking up where we left off. “What do you mean, the baby isn’t yours?”

  “It’s not mine.” His lips purse into a tight line as he scrapes a hand over his chin. “I found out about two months after she was born.” He looks me directly in the eye. “It was a girl. Did you know that?” He shakes his head, dismissing whatever thought is in his head, and continues. “I guess I wasn’t the only one that Poppy was with, and after the baby was born, her conscience got the best of her. She told me there was a fifty-fifty chance that I was the father, and she was about ninety percent sure I was, but all it took was one DNA test to prove that I one hundred percent was not.”

  “I’m sorry.” I whisper.

  “You’re sorry about a lot of things apparently.” He chuffs out angrily.

  I ignore his anger and try to explain. “I just can’t imagine how hard it must to have been to fall in love with a child you thought was yours, only to have it taken from you.”

  His eyes shoot up to mine, the pupils darker than I’ve ever seen them as they dilate, pure rage vibrating off of him when he finally speaks. “You’re about to find out just how fucking hard it’s going to be.”

  16

  I’m not going to lie. I get immense satisfaction from her reaction to my words; her face paling as she shifts in her seat, goosebumps breaking out across the bare skin on her arms. Her voice is steady though, and no matter how her body may be reacting, she’s not going to let me know she’s scared. She’s still a spitfire. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She’s about to say more, but pauses, her eyes whipping to the left as the waitress approaches.

  “Sorry.” She mumbles as she sets down the drinks. “Just wave me down if you want anything else.” And then she’s gone, quick as a mouse, smart enough to know she should keep her distance right now.

  Megan doesn’t miss a beat and picks up right where she left off. “Is that supposed to be some sort of a threat? Do you think you can actually take my son away from me?”

  “Our son.” I lift the glass of beer to my mouth and chug down half of it in two gulps, slamming it back to the table. “Don’t you mean our son?” I watch as she physically reels back from the sting of my words. “I don’t think we need a DNA test for this one, do we? It’s pretty obvious he’s mine.”

  She stares at me as she shakes her head slowly back and forth, not bothering to deny the obvious. “Yes, he’s yours.”

  Even though I knew in my gut that he was mine from the very second I laid eyes on him, her admitting it sends a rush of emotion so strong through me, I feel dizzy. I lay my palms flat on the table in an attempt to regain some sort of balance, my heart beating like a drum as I exhale a long breath to try and slow it down. The anger fueling my blood for the last fifteen minutes dissipates, and quickly morphs into something entirely different. I have a son. I’m a father. To a child I don’t even know. I snap my head up. “How old is he? When was he born?”

  She offers me a small smile, one of resignation I think. Or is it defeat? I’m not sure because after all, I really don’t know her anymore. Maybe I never really did. “He’s a little over two and a half. He was born October thirty-first.”

  “He’s a Halloween baby?” I ask, wanting to know everything I can about him.

  “Yeah.” She lets out a small laugh. “How’s that for a trick or treat?” She fidgets with the napkin under her drink, ripping small pieces of paper away as she keeps talking. “He was born just after four in the afternoon. He came out screaming, but as soon as they put him on my chest, he stopped, and has only cried since if he’s hungry. He was beautiful.” She looks up to meet my eyes. “He had a full head of hair, and was so chubby. He was a good baby. A really good baby.”

  I stare back at her, a million thoughts racing through my mind as I add up all the things I had already missed. I’d never know him as baby. Rocking him in my arms, feeding him a bottle, seeing him grow. I had no idea what his first words were, or what he liked to eat, or when he learned to walk, what his favorite stuffed animal or blanket was. “How could you not tell me? Did you think I wouldn’t want to know? Or that I wouldn’t help you? Or want to be a part of his life?”

  Her mouth puckers, her lids blinking rapidly at tears brimming. Some escape anyway, and she brushes them away with the back of her hand. Her lips relax but only to turn down in a frown as she begins to try and explain. “That day of the game, when I came down to see you, seeing you holding Poppy…” She trails off as she rolls her head back to look up at the ceiling, my brows furrowing as I remember that day too. She lets out a small huff, lowering her head as she continues. “You wrapped your arms around her. You closed your eyes and held her. Like she was a damn life preserver. After you had just spent the last three days screwing me. After telling me you weren’t with her anymore.” She gives a short shake of her head. “How do you think that made me feel?”

  I lift the beer and drain the glass. I signal to the waitress to bring me another, then turn my attention back to Megan. “I tried calling you. And I texted you. At least twenty times. You never returned any of them. I wanted to explain.”

  “What was there to explain?” She throws her hands up in the air. “The pictures I saw of you with Poppy all over the papers and magazines the days after said it all.” Her cheeks flush a dark pink as she takes a sip of her water. When she sets down the glass, I can’t help but notice how shiny her lips are, and for a second I forget why we’re here and I just want to kiss her. She still takes my breath away and even though it’s been over three years, it feels like no time has passed. How the hell did we get to this place? I give myself a mental shake and try to explain anyway, even though she doesn’t think she needs to hear what I have to say.

  “I hate myself for how I behaved in those days after the game. After losing. After I got hurt.” I grimace as I recall the stupid shit I did. There was no valid excuse I could give for how I acted. How I treated her was wrong and the only thing I could do was own it. “I know I fucked up. I know I hurt you. But I also knew then that all I wanted was to make it right with you.”

  “Did you actually think I would want to see you after that?” She scoffs, a disgusted look on her face. “I do have some self-respect, Jasper.”

  “Fine.” I pause as the waitress drops a new beer in front of me and swipes up my empty glass, walking away without a word. “But did that really warrant you not telling me you were pregnant with my baby?” She opens her mouth to speak, but I lift a hand to stop her. I have to at least try and explain my actions. “I know what I did, how I behaved, was inexcusable. I do.” I blow a long breath out, then continue. “I just blew the biggest game of the season for the team. I hurt my ankle and wasn’t sure how long it would be before I might be able to play again, and then-” I shake my head and scoff. “Fucking Poppy is out in the friends and family zone as soon as I step out of the locker room, and she picks that time to tells me she’s pregnant. Like that news would outweigh all the shit of the game.” I bring my eyes up to hers, hoping she can see the sincerity in them. “When you saw me wrapping my arms around her, my eyes closing, maybe I was holding onto her for dear life, cause I can tell you, it sure as fuck felt like I was drowning. But I promise you this, I never felt for her the way I did for you. I don’t care if we had only spent three days together.” I frown. “And yeah, I royally fucked up after that. Instead of dealing with shit, I tried chasing my problems away with booze and pills. I don’t even remember what happened after I left the stadium and got on the plane back to Boston. I was black-out drunk for three days.”

  “Did you even care that I had left?” She asks quietly.

  “What?” I’m taken back by her question. Did she really think I didn’t care? “Of course I cared. If you had stayed even one more minute, you would have seen me push Poppy away. You would have seen me tell her to leave. And you would have seen me trying to find you.”

  “Well, it didn’t take you too long to find her again.” She coc
ks her head, her mouth quirking up in a tight line. “At least from what I could tell from the pictures I saw splashed all over the place.” She huffs. “Thanks for that by the way. It was like someone was twisting a knife in my heart every time I had to walk down the damn street.”

  I take a few gulps of my beer. I’m stalling and I’m sure she knows it as she stares daggers at me. I made a fucking mess of things back then. “I’m sorry for that.” I reach across the table to try and take her hand, but she leans back, pulling it into her lap. I lay my palm flat then drag it back in front of me, frowning. “I wish I had an excuse. A reason for acting like the biggest dick on the planet. Other than I was fucking stupid, and weak. None of it was worth it.” I raise my gaze until it locks with hers. “None of it was worth losing you. It was all such a fucking waste.”

  “I guess we both made some bad decisions.” She muses out loud, her eyes downcast as she focuses on her hands in her lap. “When I saw the pictures of you two together, it broke me.” Her head lifts slowly until her eyes meet mine. “I know it was only three days Jasper, but somehow it was enough time for me to fall for you. I felt so betrayed. So angry. I actually threw my phone at a brick wall I was so mad.” She lets out a chuff of laughter. “That was the end for me. I got a new phone, and decided to get a new number. I needed to erase you from my life. Every time my phone dinged with a message from you, it was like another stab to my heart. So, I got rid of all evidence of you, and tried to pretend it never happened.”

  “But to keep a baby from me?” I let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t understand how you could do that.”

  “I didn’t even realize I was pregnant until a few months later.” She rests a hand over her belly, a small smile appearing before she frowns and looks up at me. “I was going to tell you. I didn’t have your number anymore, so Leah had this idea to try and reach out to you on Instagram. That’s when I found out Poppy was pregnant too.” She huffs, shaking her head. “I couldn’t believe it.” She trails her gaze up until her eyes meet mine. I can see the pain in them. “I couldn’t share this with her Jasper. I just couldn’t.”

  I take a few gulps of my beer, my throat perpetually parched as I try and digest everything she’s told me. I’m so mad. So mad that I want to reach across this table and shake the shit out of her. But if I’ve learned anything over the last few years, it’s that actions taken in anger, only end up hurting me. I discovered that after I found out Poppy’s baby wasn’t mine. That loss hit me like a god damn semi-truck slamming into me. I can’t go through that again. And it almost makes me want to walk away right now. Not take the chance of having him my life, because losing something like that again just might end me. But I also know myself well enough to know that I could never go through the rest of my life pretending there wasn’t a piece of me out there. “I want to see him.”

  Her head jerks up, already shaking back and forth. “You saw him.”

  “Don’t play games with me, Megan.” My hand balls into a fist as I try and maintain my cool. “You know what I mean. I want to spend more time with him. Get to know him.”

  A tear rolls down her cheek, and she brushes it away, anger in the movement. I’m not sure if it’s directed at me, the situation she’s in, or because she doesn’t want me to see a crack in her armor. “I have to think about this. I need a few days.”

  “I’ll give you one.” I state flatly. “Enough time has already been wasted. I want to meet my son.” I arch a brow before she can give me another sarcastic reply. “Properly this time.”

  “I’m leaving.” She waves a hand to stop my protest, continuing to speak. “We’re checking out today. I won’t be in Boston after today.”

  “Do you really think that makes a difference to me?” I scoff, unable to mask the frustration in my voice. “Megan, you will allow me to see my son. Because it’s going to happen no matter what. If I have to hire a lawyer, if I have to hire a private detective, if I have to sue for custody, I will. He’s mine too. You can’t hide him from me anymore.”

  “Don’t threaten me, Jasper.” Her voice is laced with venom. “He’s all I know and I’m not going to just thrust you onto him and expect a two year old to understand what the hell is happening. I’m his mother. I know what’s best for him.”

  “And I’m his father!” I shout, my fist banging on the table again, her body recoiling as if I slapped her.

  She recovers quickly, rising from the table. “No, you’re someone I had sex with. Right now, all you are is a sperm donor. That doesn’t make you a father.”

  She pushes away from her chair and moves to walk past me, but I stop her, standing as I capture her arm in a loose hold. “I am his father. The only reason he doesn’t know me is because you kept him from me.” I’m growling I’m so angry. “I will see my son. I promise you that.”

  Her eyes meet mine, her pupils dilated, the dark blue color like ice as she glares at me, while trying to wrench her arm from my grip. “Let go of me.” She snarls when I tighten my hold instead.

  With my other hand, I reach into my front pocket and pull out my bill fold. I drop it on the table, and with one hand, because I’m not letting go of her, I pull the clip off my money and cards, rifling through them until I find what I’m looking for. I slide one of my business cards off the table, releasing her as I hand it to her. “You have one day.” Her eyes lock onto the card, then sweep up to meet mine. “Take it. It has all my contact information.” She snatches it from between my fingers, then storms away without looking back. I call out, because I need to make sure she knows I’m serious. “You have one day, Megan!”

  I watch until she’s out of sight, then plop back into my chair, swiping the beer to my mouth, swallowing the contents in two seconds. I slam the glass down, my fingers clutching it’s circumference, my pulse thundering in my veins. I sit there a few seconds, blowing some deep breaths in and out, startled when the waitress deposits a full beer in front of me. “Looks like you need this.” She scoots away before I can thank her, both for the beer and for snapping me out of my self-pity. Not really sure what I should do next, I call the one person I hope can help me figure it out.

  I reach for my cell in my back pocket and scroll through my contacts until I find the number I want, then hit call. Relief floods through me when I hear the voice answer on the other line. “Hey love bug!”

  I smile, her endearment for me a comfort I didn’t even know I needed. “Hey mom. You busy?”

  “Never for you.” The tone of her voice changes to concern. It’s funny how mothers can sense, even through a phone call, when their children are in trouble. “What’s wrong?”

  I blow out a long breath, then dive in, telling my mom everything. I start with running into Megan, finding out about the baby, to the time we spent together four years ago, then back to the fact that I have a baby again. After she revels in the fact that she’s finally a grandmother, I express my biggest fear to her. “Mom, what if she won’t let me see him?”

  “She will.” There’s a very slight pause before she continues. “She’s scared right now. Her whole world just got turned upside down.”

  “Her world?” I bark. “What about my world?”

  “Jasper, here’s the first rule of being a parent I’m going to share with you.” I adjust the phone, nodding my head to indicate I’m listening, even though she can’t see it. “Once you have a child, everything becomes about them. Your thoughts, your feelings, your needs will now come second.” She lets out a breath. “And I know honey that you started to see this in the short time you were Alison’s daddy.” Alison, the daughter I thought was mine with Poppy, but learned she wasn’t only a few months after she was born. “I don’t mean to take that time away from you, but Megan has been raising this boy on her own for a long time now. His momma is all he knows. She’s going to need a minute to figure out how this works for him. So it doesn’t hurt him.”

  “So, I just sit here and wait? Waste more time that I could be spending getting to know him?” I kno
w I’m whining, but if you can’t whine to your mother, who then?

  “Just give her some time to work this out in her head. Give her that. A mother can see what’s good for her child, even if it’s hard for us to admit it sometimes. And you’re a good man, Jasper. Deep down, even though she’s scared, I’m sure she knows that. You wouldn’t have spent the time together that you did if she thought otherwise.”

  “Mom, there’s this little person in the world that I made. I just want to know him. I don’t ever want him to think I didn’t want him.”

  “Such a good man.” She repeats softly. “So much like your dad.”

  “Oh shit.” My thoughts swinging to my father and what his reaction to this situation will be. My mother, always the mind reader, knows what I’m thinking without me saying it.

  “He’s going to be happy, Jasper. Right after he gets done being worried about you.” She chuckles into the phone. “The joys of parenting. You’ll see.”

  “I hope so.” I whisper. “Thanks, mom.”

  I finish the call and hang up, promising to call her back with any updates. I wave the waitress over so I can pay my tab, my phone alerting me to a text message. I glance down at my screen, my brows jumping almost to my hairline when I read the words, hope blooming in my belly.

  Saturday, Noon, 82345 Crest Ridge Estate, Stamford, CT. Don’t be late.

  17

  The doorbell rings and I glance at the clock. It’s twelve on the dot. I wring my hands, rise from the chair I’m sitting in, then make my way to the front door. I close my eyes, take a calming breath, and then pull the door open, my heart skipping a beat. Jesus, I forgot how good looking he is. And without the beard, he’s even more handsome. He’s got a dimple in his chin. I stare at it a second, realizing that Chase has the exact same dip in his as well. I had no idea because of the beard.