“Well, I don’t have a mother, and yet it seems I’m about to become one. Apparently, lacking a particular parent isn’t an effective form of birth control. Who knew?”
“I do not see why you would want me to participate in the child’s life.”
She was surprised by the depth of anger she felt when he said those words. Surprised by the deep, elemental rage that started down low in her stomach and flowed outward. Because she was only just wrapping her head around this motherhood thing, and that she should have an instinct, of any kind, was shocking. Especially because her ultimate goal was definitely not to have him involved.
But hearing him say it—it affected something in her she hadn’t even known was there. It cut too close to the bone. Too close to her own childhood. So full of indifference, abandonment, regret...
She gritted her teeth. “Then don’t. But you will pay child support. I’m not raising your child in poverty while you eat in fine dining establishments and...and...prop your feet up in your giant Italian villa.”
“I most certainly will pay child support. If it is mine.”
“It is yours. I haven’t been with another man. Ever. My first time was in your godforsaken hotel suite, and it was my only time.” She swallowed hard. “And you know that. I know you do. You, on the other hand, have been with so many women I bet you don’t even know the official number. I made sure to get a panel done when I went in for my blood test to confirm the pregnancy. To make sure that I didn’t catch anything from you.”
His lip curled into a sneer. “I always use protection.”
“And obviously it isn’t always effective.”
His expression went flat again. Unaffected. “Do you need money for medical care?”
She blinked. “I will. Unless I can get on some kind of assistance...”
“How soon can you get a paternity test done?”
She clenched her hands into fists, starting to feel light-headed. “Not for a few weeks. And from what I’ve heard there’s a miscarriage risk.”
“Your choice. Discuss it with your physician at your appointment, and I will leave that decision to you. But, if you do take assistance from me during the pregnancy and upon delivery of the child the test is done and I discover it is not mine, you will owe me for the care you received.”
She gritted her teeth. “I will probably take option two, as I’m completely confident in what the results will be. I’m not worried about owing you a damn thing.”
“Excellent,” he said, as though they had just solved a particularly tricky business issue. “I will arrange for an account to be set up for your medical needs. After the delivery of the baby, after we have legally established paternity, we can work out some sort of child support agreement.”
This was it. She had won. He was agreeing to child support. It was going to get her what she needed, give her and her child the best life possible. And he wasn’t going to be involved.
For some reason, the victory was so much more hollow than she had imagined it might be. For some reason, she didn’t feel victorious at all. She just felt dizzy, dazed.
Maybe because she was in shock. She very likely had been from the moment she’d first taken the pregnancy tests. The first one, at home, and the follow-up blood work at the free clinic. She had probably been in shock the whole time she was formulating this plan. A way to make sure everything was taken care of, without having Rocco in her life.
It was difficult to feel victorious when everything about this just felt frightening. Strange.
“I suppose you know how to contact me,” she said.
“And you know how to contact me. Clearly.”
“Is that everything?”
He shrugged and went to sit behind his desk. “Unless you have any further concerns. Or, have any information on the whereabouts of your father.”
She shook her head, feeling numb. “No.”
“That is a shame. Do let me know when the results of the paternity test are in.”
“You mean when your child is born.”
“I imagine the timing will coincide,” he said, looking away from her now completely. As though she was already gone.
“I’ll call you. Someone. Your secretary,” she said, turning away from him and walking out the door.
She managed to hold it together until she was halfway through the lobby. But then, just as she was passing the receptionist’s desk, a sob worked its way through her frame, catching her breath, making her pause. Her chest burned, her whole body shaking. She didn’t know why this hurt so much. Didn’t know why it mattered whether or not he cared about the child. She didn’t want him to, dammit. Why was she feeling guilty now?
Because you know how much it hurts. You know it hurts forever.
Yes, she did know. Knew that the pain of abandonment, of complete disinterest, didn’t ease.
She hated that her child would be starting out life the way she had started hers. And it was a strange and terrifying thing to know that, already, the needs of her child felt so much more important than her own.
She pressed on through the lobby, sucking in a gasp of fresh air as soon as she was outside. She blinked against the harsh light of the sun, staring up at the cloudless blue sky that seemed to mock the state of her life with its beautiful perfection.
But somehow, while part of her felt angry about the beauty of the day, another part of her took comfort in it. Things were changing in her life, faster than she could process them. But everything around her was the same.
It wasn’t the end of the world. It was just the start of a strange, new one. And no, her child wouldn’t have a father. But she knew from experience that a father who sucked was probably worse than no father at all.
And her child would have a mother. There was no question about that.
It was scary. Terrifying. She was a twenty-two-year-old waitress who didn’t feel as if she’d started her life yet. She didn’t know how to be normal. Her moral compass skewed from childhood. But she would have to change the way she saw things now, change the way she did things. Because she didn’t want to carry on the legacy that her father had tried to instill in her. A legacy she had been taking part in because she hadn’t known what else to do.
She still didn’t know what to do. But with the financial support coming from Rocco, she wouldn’t even be tempted to engage in cons anymore. Maybe she would get a house in the country. Maybe she would make friends with other mothers. Maybe she would make up a story about where she was from, and what happened to her baby’s father.
Maybe that could be her last con. One that she lived in. One that she stayed in. Something normal, something happy.
The thought of it made her smile.
Things were going to change. But she needed that. Desperately. She needed to change. Maybe this was her chance to finally have real connections. To love someone the way she wanted to. Without reserve. With love in return.
A love neither she nor her child would ever have to earn.
No just one more con looming overhead. A mythical destination that would supposedly fix all, but would never arrive.
She closed her eyes and wiped away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. She didn’t need Rocco Amari to be happy. Neither did her child.
This whole thing with her dad had started out as one of the biggest mistakes of her life. But maybe out of it something amazing would happen.
Either way, it was a new chapter. She was done with her father. She was done with the life they’d led. Done with