Catching Chase

by Michelle Windsor

  “So, go.” I’d be more than happy to end this conversation right now.

  “Yeah, I don’t fucking think so.” He sneers. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until I have some answers.” Before he can say anything else, the two men approach, smiles and handshakes exchanged between them.

  “Holy crap, it’s you, isn’t it?” Doug gapes at me, then looks to Jasper for confirmation. “Los Angeles. Three years ago?”

  Doesn’t anyone keep track of time around here? I nod my head, then force my lips to turn up into a smile. “Three and a half actually.”

  “You sure did a number on my boy here.” He chuckles, swiping a hand over his face as he shakes his head. “He sulked around like a dog who lost his favorite bone for months after we left Los Angeles.” He delivers a soft punch to Jasper’s bicep, which is returned with a dark, menacing look that clearly indicates he should shut the hell up. Doug’s humorous expression changes to one of confusion in two seconds flat.

  “God fucking damn it.” Jasper seethes under his breath, then looks at me. “I’ll be two minutes.” He takes a step away from me, then stops. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  I nod, knowing that even if I tried to leave right now, I wouldn’t get far. And honestly, because I have been dreading this moment every day since I found out I was having his baby and knew the time had come. Maybe it would be a relief to finally get this over with. It was a moment that was going to happen at some point. If not driven by chance, Chase would have pushed at some point to know who his father was. I watch as Jasper speaks to Doug and Tom, telling them who knows what, my mind still reeling.

  A moment later, Jasper is at my side, his friends heading in the opposite direction. “Let’s find some place we can talk.” It’s not a question, but a demand, his hand landing on the center of my back as he propels me forward.

  I surge against his touch, increasing my pace as I lengthen my stride until his hand falls away. I head to a hallway off the lobby. “How about the bar? It should be quiet this time of day.”

  “Sure.” He’s increased his gait, his body now in line with mine again. “I could use a fucking drink.”

  I walk to a table at the far end of the room, slide into one of the chairs, and watch as he sits across from me. I want to hate him. I want my heart to remain a block of ice. But as I look at him, I already feel myself begin to melt. It’s the caramel colored eyes with green flecks, the dimple in his left cheek, and the light sandy hair surrounding a face so beautiful, and so like our child’s, my breath hitches in shock. My hand flies to my mouth as I feel the wall I built around my heart splinter, fissures of pain bleeding through the cracks as I finally admit the mistake I’ve made. I don’t wait for him to talk. I just start. “I’m sorry.” I know it’s not enough, and I know it’s too late for that, especially when I see the way he’s looking at me.

  “You’re sorry?” He repeats, so much contempt in his voice. “You had a baby. My baby!” His hand balls into a fist as he sets it on the table. “There’s no excuse for not telling me that. None!” His fist pounds against the surface once, my body flinching at the impact.

  “You were having a baby with Poppy. We were practically strangers. I didn’t want to confuse things.” I wrench my fingers together in my lap, looking down at them as I lower my voice as I admit the last thing. “I was so mad at you for choosing her.”

  “I never chose her.” A puff of air blows from him as he chuckles, although not one trace of humor is evident. “It wasn’t my baby.”

  My head snaps up. “What?”

  “The baby. Poppy’s. It wasn’t mine. I didn’t find out until after the baby was born.” He throws his hands in the air. “Looks like I got fucked all the way around here, doesn’t it?”

  Before I have a chance to react, a waitress appears, her demeanor way more cheerful than this occasion calls for. “Heya guys! I’m Chrissy. Starting the party early today, huh?”

  Jasper and I exchange a look that definitely says otherwise. And it apparently doesn’t go unnoticed by Chrissy, who instantly downshifts her mood into something slightly more somber. “So, yeah, okay, do you two want something to drink, or a menu?”

  “I’ll have a beer.” Jasper orders in a clipped tone. “Whatever IPA you have on tap is fine.” He looks over at me, extending his hand in my direction. “You want a glass of champagne? Maybe a bottle of Veuve for prosperity.” His face is void of any emotion, but it’s quite clear to me he’s not being funny.

  “I’ll just have an ice water please, with lemon if you have it.”

  “Sure.” She writes down our order on a pad, and I can’t hide my annoyance at her continued presence and start drumming my fingers on the table. Is a glass of water and a beer that hard to remember? Her eyes dart to the noise, and then to me, her brows shooting up as she finally gets the message. “Uh, yeah, okay. I’ll be back.” And then she scurries away.

  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 dart 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.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  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 as a thousand questions fly into my head. “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. I’d never rock him in my arms, feed him a bottle, experience all the stages of him growing from a baby into a toddler. 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 keep this from 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 to 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 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 drowning 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 cocks 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 in 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
to 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. “I’m all he knows and I’m not going to just thrust you onto him and expect a two and a half 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.