by Tia Siren
“You sure know how to impress the ladies,” I joked as we waited for the elevator.
Kellan either didn’t hear or flat out ignored me, either way, the uncomfortable silence became even worse as we stepped into the elevator. I could tell by his pacing that the news I had delivered back at the office was starting to sink in. Panic shone in his eyes and, for the first time, I felt like we were one the same boat.
By the time the elevator came to a stop at the penthouse, my anxiety was at a new high. I felt like I could literally climb the walls of his fancy apartment as I followed him inside and watched as he made it straight for his booze collection. Unable to take it anymore, I said, “Kellan, it’s been half an hour. We have to talk.”
Kellan narrowed his eyes at me and opened—with unnecessary force—a bottle of scotch. He poured himself what I could only assume was a quadruple shot and downed it in one gulp. Annoyed by his behavior, I crossed my arms over my chest and stared back at him.
He filled his glass again and leaned against the table. Finally, Kellan’s eyes found mine but still he refused to speak. The intense emotion in his gaze was something I couldn’t comprehend. It was a mixture of fear and anger, and though I understood both emotions separately, combined under these circumstances, they were quite unsettling.
A part of me wanted to go over and comfort him, but an even bigger part of me wanted to keep my distance. I knew that this painful silence was nothing more than a dreadful calm before a storm. Based on the size of this calm, the storm was going to be a nasty one, and I wanted to be as far away as possible when it hit.
When five more long minutes went by without a single word, my body felt like it would explode with anxiety. It was so unfair that he could calm himself with booze and I had to make do with pacing—I hated pacing. However, walking from side to side in his living room allowed me to think and try to understand what was happening inside Kellan’s mind.
All I knew from him was based on what my father had told me, which honestly wasn’t much. However, I did know that he had never had a serious relationship and that he didn’t keep in touch with his family. It was evident that both things were somehow connected to each other and to his behavior now.
In another attempt to start a conversation and, hopefully, appease his mind, I said, “I’m not asking for a relationship, I promise.”
Kellan chuckled sarcastically and downed the remaining contents of his tumbler. Without even looking at me, he reached for the bottle again. It was then that I snapped. This was undoubtedly the most important moment of both our lives and I refused to discuss it with a drunk.
I walked over and took the bottle from him. Looking him in his eyes, I barked, “Stop acting like a teenager and talk to me.”
Fire burned in his eyes as he turned his gaze back to me. “Have you told your parents?”
The intensity and anger in his voice made me tremble. “N-no, I haven’t,” I stuttered.
“Good, don’t.” I frowned at his reply, but Kellan ignored my expression and reached for a different bottle of alcohol. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not going to allow your stupidity to cost me my best friend, my company, my job or anything else I care about. You’re the one who made this mess for yourself so you’ll be the one cleaning it.”
I had always thought that it was a euphemism when people said that words can cut like knives, but in that exact moment, I found out it wasn’t. The bitterness and coldness in his words pierced my heart like a sword. After all of my failed attempts at getting him naked again, I had no delusions that he would be happy about my pregnancy and willing to marry me, but I also didn’t expect him to be such a jerk about it. Suddenly, I was Hulk-level angry.
“I made this mess?” I asked incredulously. “I’m sorry, but did I grow a penis and fucked myself in that bathroom? No, I didn’t. You were just as involved in this baby making as I was,” I snapped with tears blurring my vision.
“Oh, please,” he said, rolling his eyes, “you were begging for it the entire show. Opening your legs and pushing your tits out. What was I supposed to do? Ignore the girl who obviously wants to get laid?”
I raised a brow. “No, but maybe, as a guy who obviously doesn’t want a child popping around, you should put on a freaking condom.”
He rolled his eyes and refilled his drink. I looked at the amber liquid and decided I would gladly give a limb for a sip. I hated being pregnant almost as much as I was starting to hate this overreacting jerk.
“Or maybe, you should be on freaking birth control before seducing a man twice your age.”
Once again, his words hurt me and I hated that they did. I also hated myself for the childish infatuation I had for this man. I hated that it had made me stupid enough to lose my virginity in a public bathroom, with a man who clearly didn’t care about me or the child we had created together.
Taking large, calming breaths, I watched as Kellan collapsed onto his couch and crossed his ankle over his knee. Tears welled in my eyes as I continued in a calmer tone, “You’re right, but so am I. We both should have taken precautions, but we didn’t and now we need to figure out what to do, together.”
“Fuck that!” he spit back after another long sip of whiskey. “You’re the one carrying it, it’s your problem. If you want money for an abortion I’ll give it to you, I’ll even drive you to the clinic myself. Aside from that, I want nothing to do with it.”
Being sucker punched in the gut, that’s how his words felt like. I wanted to scream and punch him in the face and break all the expensive looking things in his apartment, but instead, I just cried. I wasn’t ready to be a single mother, but I also wasn’t willing to kill the little baby growing inside of me.
Kellan just sat on his stupid couch, staring at the tears that ran down my cheeks with an expressionless mask on his face. Tired and sick of humiliating myself in front of this man, I wiped the tears away and grew a bit taller in my spine as I turned to walk away.
I was almost at the elevator when his voice sounded behind me again. “What are you going to tell your father?”
“Whatever the hell I want,” I replied as I pressed the call button. “But don’t worry, I won’t involve you. I’m not going to allow my child to grow up knowing that they were fathered by a selfish, pathetic middle-aged man who’s too weak to own up to his actions.”
My words still hung in the air when the elevator arrived at Kellan’s floor. I stepped into the metal cage and looked back at the greatest disappointment of my life. He stared back at me with a mixture of emotions shining in his eyes, but I didn’t have the energy or the desire to decipher them.
I held the storm of tears that were building inside my chest until I was out of his building and in a cab, riding home. I folded my arms around my belly. Despite being sadder and lonelier than I had ever been before, I was glad that at least I had this little being growing inside of me to keep me company. It was hard to explain, but somehow I knew that whatever the challenges ahead, I’d be alright as long as my baby was okay.
Chapter Six
Kellan
Three Months Later . . .
Uneasy wasn’t a word accurate enough but, as I parked my car under the reddening canopy of a three, I decided it was the closest I would get to expressing how I felt. Months had passed since Amelia walked out of my apartment and, as it was to be expected, a lot had changed.
Despite still having an office just down the hall from mine, Amelia and I barely saw each other. Soon after that dreaded night, she asked to be transferred to the production department under the guise that it was her real passion. I knew as well as she did that she was merely running away from the pain and awkwardness between us. However, regardless of her reasons, she seemed to be happy and thriving in her new position.
As for me, well . . . I was miserable in every aspect of my life.
Try as I might, I was unable to flush her words out of my brain. I had tried everything from drinking until I was practically comatose, to fucking random model
s into oblivion, to working even longer and harder than I normally did, but nothing helped. I still saw the disappointment in her eyes every time I walked in or out of my apartment and the selfish and pathetic middle-aged man who was too much of a coward to do the right thing by his child every time I looked in the mirror. Those things were constant reminders that I was becoming a deadbeat just like my father. That knowledge only served to fuel my self-loathing to the point where I hated myself almost as much as I hated him.
On top of that, I missed Amelia. It was strange to admit it, especially after the way I had behaved that night, but I did. I missed talking and working with her, I even missed her shameless flirting. In the few weeks we had interacted she had brought light and color to my existence, and now that I was back to my usual gray life I felt cold and empty. However, she and her child deserved better than a damaged man who was unable to love.
Desperate to escape my thoughts, I opened the door and stepped out my car.
Crisp fall air filled my lungs as I walked toward the studio where our newest model was having her first photo shoot. It had been too long since I had visited a shoot and though it wasn’t my favorite part of the job, at the moment, it was a welcome distraction.
As soon as I stepped into the studio, my lips curled up in my usual smile. For the next few minutes, I walked around the chaotic set greeting the models and the production staff. As per usual, they didn’t seem to mind that I had no idea what their names were. They just smiled back at me and kissed my ass in the same tiresome way most people did.
After a while of talking nonsense with people I didn’t care about, I set out to look for the photographer, who was a good friend of mine. That’s when a familiar face at the dressing area caught my eye.
My heart raced as I took Amelia in. She looked serious and exhausted as she browsed through racks of clothes. Her figure hadn’t changed much, but I could make out the slight curve of her baby bump peeking through her thick jacket. Out of their own accord, my lips curled up into a smile at the sight, but it quickly vanished as a thin, middle-aged woman approached her.
I watched in silence as the woman pursed her lips and looked over the outfits Amelia had selected with disdain in her eyes. My own mouth tightened as I saw her shake her head and pick up a pair of denim pants.
“This is all wrong,” the harpy barked. “What were you thinking? This is a high fashion shoot.”
The woman’s voice echoed through the studio as she continued to belittle Amelia. I was proud of her for keeping a leveled head and not use her father as a way to shut the woman up. It showed a level of maturity and professionalism I couldn’t find in myself at that moment.
“Excuse me,” I called as I made my way toward them. “Is there an issue here?”
With my peripheral vision, I could see Amelia’s shock as she looked at me, but my focus was on the rude woman beside her.
The harpy pursed her wrinkly lips and crossed her arms. “This girl here knows nothing of style,” she said with a thick Southern drawl. “She’s opting denim for this shoot. It’s all wrong.”
Slowly, I looked from the older woman to Amelia who looked thoroughly embarrassed to be seen in such situation by me. I gave her a reassuring smile before turning my gaze to the garments she had selected. I studied the pieces for a moment before looking back to Amelia.
“What are you pairing the denim with?” I asked her in a business tone.
She took a deep breath and cleared her throat before replying. “I was thinking about pairing it with those thigh high glitter boots, that distressed leather jacket, and a lace bralette.”
A smirk threatened to form on my lips, but I kept my face straight as I nodded and turned back to the other woman. “Her choices seem pretty fashion forward and coherent with the shoot’s theme to me.”
The woman opened her mouth to say something else, but I wouldn’t have it. I might not be on board with her pregnancy, but Amelia was still the mother of my child, and no one would treat her like crap.
I raised a hand to stop her from speaking and added, “I can assure you that Amelia knows what she’s doing. Her father is my business partner, and she was raised in this industry. Fashion and style come as second nature to her and, in my not so humble opinion, her youth provides an edginess that your vision so desperately needs.”
The stylist blinked a few times as her eyes shifted from me to Amelia. The smirk I’d been holding finally peeked through as she smiled and nodded in agreement. I could see the storm raging in her eyes, but she clearly knew better than to get into an argument with me or continue to mistreat Alex’s daughter. People like us could make or break careers in this business and, apparently, she wasn’t willing to risk hers.
She smiled at Amelia and excused herself to go talk to the set director. Once she was gone, I turned my focus towards Amelia. From up close, she looked even more tired and sickly as she had before. “How are you?” I asked with concern laced in my words.
“How I am is none of your business, Kellan,” Amelia responded in a blunt tone.
I knew I deserved to be talked to that way, but it didn’t mean I liked it. I ran a hand through my hair as Amelia turned to select some jewelry. She picked up a pair of hideous earrings, and I noticed that her hands were shaking.
“You’re right, I forfeited the right to ask about you three months ago. However, you’re still my best friend’s daughter, and I worry on his behalf. Have you been eating and sleeping enough?”
“Kellan, I’m trying to work. Go away. My life is none of your business,” she said without even looking up at me. Then, she scoffed and shook her head. “And don’t pretend that you care about your friend’s child when you don’t even care about yours. That’s hypocritical and stupid. ”
I closed my eyes for a second feeling the verbal slap in the face. As much as I wanted to leave gracefully and avoid more unnecessary confrontation with her, I couldn’t help myself. “What is the point of keeping this baby if you’re not going to take care of yourself while you’re pregnant? You say I’m selfish and pathetic and hypocritical but aren’t you all of those things as well?”
Those words made Amelia finally look up at me. The moment her gorgeous, tired eyes met mine, I wished she would look away. The incredulity in them wasn’t new to me, I had seen too many women gaze at me that same way over the years. However, that look coming from Amelia made my heart feel cold.
“Excuse me?” she hissed as she slammed a thick, golden bracelet over the table. The noise made me cringe. “How dare you talk to me like that? I’m tired because I’m working despite being constantly nauseated. My child already has one loser parent. I refuse to fail at my dream job because I got knocked up by a deadbeat asshole and give him a loser set.”
I reigned in my temper. “Your father owns half the company, and I own the other half. Believe me, your job is safe. No one is going to fire you for taking a few days to care for yourself.”
For some reason, that comment seemed to make her even angrier. Her nostrils flared as she continued to stare at me. “Great, so now I’m a charity case?”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “No, you’re not. Jeez . . . I’m just worried and trying to be nice.”
“Well, don’t,” she stated abruptly. “My son and I are not your concern, so please, leave us alone.”
Son . . . She’s having a son. The information danced around in my mind, but before I could process it properly, Amelia’s face turned white and her eyes rolled backward. My heart stopped with worry and fear as I rushed to her side just in time to catch her as she collapsed.
Chapter Seven
Amelia
I awoke to a sea of bright, white lights. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, and then several more for me to realize where I was. The hospital room looked exactly as you’d expect and smelled just as bad—like a mixture of sickness and sanitizer. I sighed and shifted into a more comfortable position.
Once seated, I glanced over to the chair to my righ
t and was surprised to see Kellan sitting there. The tension between his brows relaxed as he saw me awake.
“Hi,” he greeted in a cautious voice.
I tried to smile, but it felt weird and forced. “Hi. What am I doing here? What happened?”
“You collapsed about half an hour ago, and I brought you to the hospital. The doctor just left, he said you’re dehydrated and fatigued. They’re running some bloodwork to see if it is something else,” he explained in a tired and worried voice.
My heart sank at his words. I knew that with all the extra pressure I was putting on myself to be the best at work and do everything for the baby on my own, I wasn't the healthiest, but I had never imagined that my behavior could bring me, and my unborn child, to a hospital bed. The notion made me feel awful and stupid. Kellan’s voice from our argument earlier today returned to my mind, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
“Is my baby alright?” I asked with tears in my eyes.
Kellan nodded, and I relaxed. I sank back into my pillows as he added, “I’ve already spoken to your father, and he’s on his way.” I glanced back at him with panic in my eyes and covered my stomach with my hands. Understanding the issue, Kellan closed his eyes and asked, “You still haven’t told him?”
I shook my head and looked away, not wanting to see the anger in his eyes. “No, I haven’t. I didn’t know what to say or how to explain the father situation, so I just kept putting it off.”
Kellan muttered a curse under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. “You have to tell him before he finds out, or he’ll be pissed at you, and you don’t want that to happen. Your father is a kind and understanding man, but he hates being lied to. You know that. You’ll need him and your mom once the baby arrives.”
As unrequired and out of place as his advice was, I knew he was right. This was a big deal, and I would have to lean on my parents a lot once my son arrived. As much as I tried to look in control, I was falling to pieces.
