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She squeezed my hand. “Sometimes the best things in life are the ones we don’t see coming.”
We talked for a long time—about pregnancy, Owen, and even Robert. Usually, I kept my relationship with him private, but I knew in my heart Billie was a person I could confide in. It was funny how sometimes you could barely know someone and yet know they could be trusted, yet the people we thought we knew so well were usually the ones who ended up burning us.
When the check came, Billie insisted on paying. She took the leather padfolio off the table, stuck her credit card inside, and held it up to the waiter. “There’s a method to my madness,” she said to me. “If I don’t like you, I split the bill. If I do, I won’t take no for an answer picking up the tab. Because then you’ll feel obligated to buy me lunch—which means we’ll become better friends.”
I smiled. “I’d like that.”
“I have to tell you, I’m the type of person who generally doesn’t listen to advice on relationships or how to manage my family. I feel like what works for one person doesn’t necessarily work for another, and that often leads to a feeling of failure. So I go with my gut.” Billie held up a finger. “But I’m going to offer you a piece of advice anyway.”
I laughed. “Okay…”
“Your relationship decisions need to be independent of your paternity results. Don’t be with a man because he’s the father of your baby. Be with a man you love with your whole heart. Life’s too short to be stuck with the wrong guy.”
I nodded. “That’s good advice. Only I’m not even sure how to know who the right guy is.”
Billie smiled. “It’s easy. He’s the one who makes you wonder if he can read your mind. Because he cares about what you need and makes that his priority.”
CHAPTER 18
Owen
It was a nice day in the City, so in between showings, I did something unusual. Rather than go back to my office and catch up on work emails or return client phone calls, I grabbed a coffee and sat on a bench in Central Park—an attempt to sort out my very cluttered head. I’d vowed to be of clearer mind the next time I saw Devyn.
It had been two days since she’d dropped the bomb that she was pregnant. I certainly could’ve handled it better when she told me the baby might not be mine. I imagined few men in my predicament would have reacted calmly to that news, but I’d let my fear show when I should’ve been more cognizant of how tough the situation was for her. I had no desire to make already difficult circumstances worse. She had a lot on her plate—even before any of this happened. So, I needed to be strong on the outside, even if I felt like I was about to break on the inside.
There were just so many questions. Was I ready to be a father or kidding myself because of my feelings for Devyn? How would I be involved in her life if this baby wasn’t mine and this Robert fucker was in the picture? Could I accept that…or would that mean the end of us? How would having a baby impact Devyn’s ability to look after Heath and Hannah? How could she handle all that? My chest felt heavy just thinking about it all. I had to remind myself to breathe.
I’d never needed to talk to one of my friends so badly, but I couldn’t betray Devyn’s trust and tell any of the guys what was going on. It was too early for anyone to know. Anything could happen at this point. So, I’d keep the news inside and do my best to figure out how I was going to handle it on my own. So far I was doing a pretty shitty job, though.
Before this curveball, I’d been pondering what role I’d have in Heath and Hannah’s life if Devyn and I were to end up together—how that might inadvertently turn me into a father figure. How ironic that this whole time I was possiblyalreadya father.
The reality of it hit in waves.
I could be a father right now.
My kid would be fairly close to Hope and Maverick’s ages. Colby, Holden, and I would be raising our kids together.
Then the other side of the coin always snapped me back to reality:Devyn could be carrying Robert Valentino’s baby.
Sitting on this park bench had, in fact, done nothing to clear my head. Instead, my mind was working overtime.
My eyes wandered over to a little boy chasing some pigeons. His dad was only a few steps behind, smiling from ear to ear as his giggling son had the time of his life.
Would that be me in four years?
The hardest part was not knowing. I couldn’t acclimate to the idea of becoming a father because I was afraid when I managed to get used to it, the truth would rip the rug out from under me. I had to prepare for both the best and worst-case scenarios at the same time.
The little boy I’d been watching suddenly tripped and fell. My stomach dropped. He’d been running so fast and not paying attention to where he was going. I stood up instinctively, wanting to help him, but his dad seemed to have everything covered. Sitting back down, I watched as his father bent to comfort him, checking the kid’s legs for cuts and bruises, kissing his knee. Life for that little boy had gone from joyous to painful in a millisecond. But his tears eventually stopped, and the next thing I knew, he had a smile on his face again as he and his dad walked away hand in hand. I decided maybe the guy had offered to take his son for ice cream to make everything better. At least, that might’ve been what I would’ve done. Would I spoil my kid?He? She?
It might not be yours, Owen.
Snap out of it.
Man, could I relate to that little kid who fell. In two minutes, he’d gone from laughing to crying to smiling again. That felt like me lately. But ups and downs were a part of life; all you could control was whether you stayed down or got up and brushed yourself off. I guess I was at the same point now as that little kid when he fell flat on his face. It was up to me what to do next.
My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts.
It was Billie.
