Squeezing my eyes closed, I take in a deep breath and hold it. Slowly, I release the air from my lungs, willing my heart to slow its pace. I repeat this at least three times, probably more before I grip the door handle and walk into her room. The privacy curtain is pulled around the bed. When I slowly walk around it, I freeze.
It’s her.
Melissa.
Melissa from the bar all those months ago, who left me in her bed in her motel room after our night of hot sex. The Melissa I’ve thought about often and wondered what made her slip away in the middle of the night. What would’ve happened if I had woken up with her lying beside me? Would she be here now? Lying in the hospital bed fighting for her life? I think back to that night—she said she was just passing through. What is she doing here now, so close to me and my company? Why would she list me as her next of kin?
Her face is bruised and she’s bandaged over one eye. Her eyes are closed, and she appears to be sleeping peacefully. Except that’s not the case at all. She has yet to wake up.
Will she ever?
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t know she had company. I’m Dr. Ellis. I just came by to check the baby’s vitals.”
Wait? What did he just say? “Umm, the baby?”
“Yes, it appears as though Miss Knox is eight months along.” He gives me a look like I must be crazy. Why wouldn’t I be? Who lists someone they met briefly, had hot sex with and runs out on them as their next of kin?
That’s when it hits me. Eight months ago. I count back in my head. No. It can’t be. I try to breathe, but I can’t seem to suck in any air.
“Sir, you okay?”
Bending over, I place my hands on my knees and fight like hell to catch my breath.
Is this really happening?
“Sir?” the doctor tries again.
“Why don’t you sit down?” a soft, feminine voice says from beside me.
I don’t know who she is or where she came from, but when she and the doctor each take an arm and lead me to a chair beside the bed, I don’t fight it.
“Slow, deep, even breaths. That’s it, in and out,” she coaches me.
I focus on her voice, blocking out the white noise bouncing around in my head. Another slow, deep breath and I feel some of the pressure release from my chest.
“Good,” the woman says. Looking up, I see that it’s Alice. “I take it you didn’t know she was expecting?” she asks.
No shit, Sherlock. “No. I met her once, briefly.” I’m barely able to croak the words out around the lump in my throat.
Confusion crosses her face.
“Is the baby . . . okay?” I can hear myself speak, but it doesn’t even sound like me.
“I’ve been monitoring the baby closely and everything is fine,” Dr. Ellis replies.
Slumping back in the chair, I stare at Melissa, trying to make sense of all this. Why me? Unless . . . Is this baby mine? Is that why she was here, to tell me that I’m going to be a father? My mind races with different scenarios, and that’s the only thing that makes sense.
“I found this in her personal belongings.” Alice keeps her tone soft and soothing.
Looking up, I see her holding an envelope with my name scrawled across the front.
Fuck!
“We’ll give you a few minutes,” Dr. Ellis says.
I grasp the letter in my hands, staring at my name. I want to open it, see what it says, but then again I don’t. I just want to wake up from this nightmare. I want a do-over on today. Squeezing my eyes closed, I lean my head back against the chair. I feel it deep in my soul that these words, this day, are going to change the rest of my life.
Expect the unexpected, isn’t that what they say?
Steeling my resolve, I rip open the envelope and begin to read.
Ridge,
If you’re reading this, that means I chickened out. That’s the coward’s way, I know. I have a tendency to run, but you already know that. First, let me start by saying how sorry I am about leaving you that night. No excuse is a good one, but here’s mine.
A few weeks before I met you, I lost my parents.’ My adoptive parents. Growing up, I was in and out of foster homes until I met Mr. and Mrs. Knox. They adopted me and gave me my first real home. I wanted to show them how grateful I was, so I studied hard, kept my nose buried in a book, and didn’t cause problems. They missed me graduating from college. I chose to be a paralegal to work in their law firm. Needless to say, the day I lost them, I lost my entire world.
The night I met you, I just wanted to forget. I’m not a drinker, but I was willing to do anything to numb the pain. Then I met you and the guys. It was nice to be included in the conversation, to feel like I was a part of something more. I was instantly attracted to you and have no regrets about our night together. You were the first real thing I ever did for myself. I wanted to know what it would feel like to be spontaneous and feel wanted. You gave me both. When I woke up, I was ashamed. Not because of you, but because of the feelings you brought out in me. I still replay every minute of that night in my head. Even through my drunken haze, I remember everything like it was just yesterday. For many reasons, that is, to date, the best night of my life. I finally lived for me, with no regrets.
Now, here’s where things get interesting. Not only did you give me the greatest night of my life, but you gave me my own little miracle. Not even a month later, I started to feel ill. It just wouldn’t go away, so naturally I broke down and went to the doctor. Turns out, I wasn’t sick at all—I was pregnant. I am pregnant. I know we used protection, but you were still able to give me my little miracle. I refuse to call him an accident. I believe in fate, Ridge, and I believe our night together was supposed to happen. In just a little under a month, I will give birth to a little boy, who I already love more than words could ever express. You gave me a real family, something I had for a small time before it was taken away from me. I was lost in the world, until the minute I heard those two words: ‘You’re pregnant.’