Pieces of You(61)

“Do you think Lena would mind me pretending to be you when I get there?”

“She doesn’t like small dicks.”

“Then how the fuck are you two still together?”

“She doesn’t know about my inflatable implant.”

I can always count on Yuri to say what I need to hear, but now I’m faced with the biggest decision of my life. I can quit this project and go back to Claire. That means I’ll have to keep working for my dad and I’ll be tied to Wilmington and the secret that binds me to my father until I’m thirty. Or I can stick it out here for four more weeks and risk coming back to find that Claire can’t forgive me—or worse, that I’ve been replaced.

After driving Yuri to the airport at five a.m., I just want to get back to the hotel room and go to sleep before I make any important decisions. I have to take this rental car back tomorrow and catch a flight back to Kauai at eight p.m. But a text message from an unknown number changes everything.

Unknown: We decided not to catch the flight back because Lindsay was having some pain. We’re at Maui Memorial.

It’s Nathan. I don’t want to respond and I definitely don’t want to go. The odds of it being mine are so fucking slim, it’s not worth putting myself, or them, through it. I always used condoms with Lindsay. I did love her, but I’m not stupid. It’s not a trust issue. I just know I’m not ready to be a father.

Of course, this just makes me think of Claire. What if she does work out an open adoption agreement with Abigail’s parents? If I want to be with her, I’ll have to support that. I have no idea how open adoptions work, but I assume the parents wouldn’t want Claire’s boyfriend around their daughter mixing her up even further than she’ll already be by having two sets of parents. What if I’m not what’s best for Claire at all?

Fuck that. That’s the kind of thinking that got me into this mess.

I pull over to look up the directions to Maui Memorial Medical Center then turn my truck around. I pull into the parking lot a half hour later and find a parking space as far from the entrance as possible before I text back.



Me: What room are you guys in?



Nathan: I don’t know. Just ask for her name at the nurse’s desk in the waiting room.





I sit in my car for a minute and think about what I’m getting myself into. The past four and a half years of my life since Myles’ death have been a series of train wrecks. I quit competing. I got together with Lindsay. I nearly killed Nathan. I started smoking weed to calm down after I realized I was on a collision course. My life only started getting better when I met Claire. I feel like being here at this hospital is just a way for me to get sucked back into that old life. It’s another train wreck waiting to happen.

As much as I want to pull out of this parking lot and go home, more than anything I want to do what I think Claire would want me to do.

I find the nurse’s desk outside the maternity waiting room and the nurse wants to know if I’m family.

I look her in the eye and try not to sound too annoyed when I say, “I could possibly be the father.”

She raises her eyebrows as she leans forward and points down the hall. “Third room on the right.”

I make it within a few feet of the door when the realization hits me. If this baby isn’t mine, I’m going back to Wilmington and calling my dad’s bluff. I’ll quit my job at Parker Construction and take the job in Raleigh. I don’t think my dad will tell the cops the real version of what happened to Myles, but I wouldn’t put it past him to completely dissolve my trust account. I can live without the millions so long as I have Claire.

I knock on the door and Nathan comes out looking frazzled as fuck. “Lindsay doesn’t want you in there, but I already booked the paternity test for tonight ‘cause the baby’s coming soon. You can wait around for her to be born or you can go home and we’ll call you on Thursday with the results.”

“Thursday? That’s five days from now.” And it also happens to be my birthday. I’d rather be in Raleigh on Thursday.

“It takes the lab three business days from the day they receive the blood to get the results. That’s three days from Monday.”

“Fuck,” I whisper. “When are you all going back?”

He runs his hand through his hair as a guilty look washes over his face. “I have a competition on Wednesday so I’m leaving Tuesday. She’s sticking around here until Friday. They won’t give the results to anyone but the three of us.”

I sigh as I realize where this conversation is going. “You want me to pick up the results on Thursday.”