“She probably wants to trap you.”
“Did you not see her in the hospital? She can barely stand to be in the same room as me.”
“Then she’s doing it for the money,” Celeste states.
“I don’t think so,” I say honestly. “She said she doesn’t want my money.”
“There you go being all naïve once again.”
“I’m not being naïve,” I argue.
Celeste turns her body slightly in my direction and our eyes lock, neither of us saying a word as she tries to determine if there are any hidden emotions behind my features. She’s trying to figure out what I’m thinking but not saying. Finally, she sighs and says, “It’s like we’re teenagers all over again. How many times are you going to let a woman manipulate your emotions?” She gives me a pointed look. “You said it yourself. She’s the same woman who left you the morning after with nothing more than a note. Who knows what her angle is now that she knows you’re a professional athlete.”
I hear everything she’s saying, and had she mentioned all this before I watched Olivia give birth I probably would’ve agreed, but the problem is I saw the little boy who might be my son. Hell, I even cut his damn umbilical cord. I saw the way Olivia’s love for her son shone through. And while I won’t admit this to Celeste, it made my heart feel something I haven’t felt in a long time. Does that scare the shit out of me? Hell yes, it does. But it also feels damn good to feel something, anything, again.
“I really don’t think she has an angle.”
Without her eyes leaving mine, she says, “You want her.” Her tone as she says those three words contain zero emotion, as if she’s simply stating a fact. A fact I’m not ready to deal with yet. Because those three words, if they are true, will change everything, just like Celeste said.
“This isn’t about her,” I say, deflecting. “This is about a baby who might be my son.”
“Yeah, okay, Nick. We both know you think with your heart. It won’t be long until you’ve ditched me to play house with your baby mamma.”
“Celeste…” I begin to say, but she cuts me off.
“Don’t ‘Celeste’ me. Just think about this before you make any rash decisions. You agreed to give this relationship a chance, not only because of your reputation but because you were tired of getting your heart stomped on. Since we’ve been together, how many times has your heart been broken? Zero.” I don’t point out that my heart can’t be broken if it isn’t on the line.
“You want to go play Daddy to this baby, fine.” She lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not going to stop you. I would never try to stop a father from taking responsibility. But don’t be so naïve to think this woman is your one true love. You aren’t going to find out you’re the dad and live happily-ever-after, Nick.”
I can hear the fear in her voice. She won’t ever admit it, but one of Celeste’s biggest fears is not being put first. Her dad never came back for her mom or her, and in her eyes, he chose someone else over them. And then for years, her mom put her love for her dad above her own daughter. Beatrice chose to stay in that trailer park and work at that diner over creating a good life for Celeste. Now she’s afraid I’m going to choose my son and his mother over her, leaving her once again on her own. She comes across so tough on a day-to-day basis that sometimes I forget how insecure Celeste really is.
“All I want to do is find out if that little boy is my son.”
“And what if he is, Nick? What then? What will that mean for us?”
“I’m not breaking off our engagement,” I tell her.
“Yet.” She huffs and snatches her purse off the table. I know I should stop her and convince her she’s wrong, make her feel secure about us, but for some reason I can’t bring myself to do it, to say the words she needs to hear.
“I need to get going,” she says. I watch her walk to the door, but then she stops and turns around. “You might not see where this is all going, but I do. And as your best friend I’m going to warn you just like I did when we were younger. She’s going to break your heart.” I open my mouth to argue, but she doesn’t give me a chance. “And when she does, this time I will say I told you so.” And without waiting for me to respond, she swings the door open and then slams it shut behind her.
I hate to admit it, but on some level Celeste is right. Olivia walked away that day. She didn’t want a future with me. If she did, she would’ve stuck around or left me her number. She did neither. I was nothing more than a one-night stand to her that left her knocked up.