Page 69
Story: Mile High Daddy
Two children. Two lives. Two reasons why I can’t be found.
My steps quicken as I reach the small café, needing the comfort of routine, of something normal. The bell above the door chimes as I step inside. The scent of coffee and baked goods wraps around me like a blanket, but it does little to settle the riot inside me.
Maggie looks up from behind the counter, and for the first time in a long time, she looks sheepish. Her curls are pulled into a messy ponytail, and she fiddles with a dish towel.
“Leah,” she says, offering a hesitant smile. “I’m so sorry.”
I sigh, dropping my bag onto the counter. “Maggie?—”
“No, seriously.” She steps closer, gripping the towel tightly. “I was a dick. I shouldn’t have lied to you, and I definitely shouldn’t have pulled that stunt to get you to the party.”
I cross my arms, arching an eyebrow. “You think?”
She winces. “I thought it was harmless! But when I saw your face…I realized I messed up.” She exhales, her brown eyes pleading. “I feel awful. Please don’t stay mad at me forever.”
I sigh again, rubbing my temple. The truth is, I don’t have the energy to hold on to my anger—not with everything else I have to deal with.
“I’m not mad,” I finally say, sliding onto one of the stools by the counter.
Maggie’s shoulders sag in relief. “Good. Because I want to make it up to you.”
I tilt my head. “How?”
She grins, eyes gleaming with something suspiciously mischievous. “Let me throw you a baby shower.”
I blink. “Wait, what?”
“A baby shower!” Maggie claps her hands. “You’re getting close now, and I figured—you probably haven’t even thought about it, have you?”
No, I haven’t.
I haven’t let myself think about anything beyond survival, beyond making sure no one finds me, beyond the fact that I’m carrying Mikhail’s children and he has no idea.
Maggie misreads my silence as reluctance and presses on.
“Come on, it’ll be fun! Just a small thing—some cupcakes, a few friends, cute little decorations.” She waggles her brows. “You can even pick a theme. Oh! Maybe something adorable like woodland creatures.”
I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. “Maggie, I don’t know?—”
“Oh, don’t even try to say no,” she interrupts. “You need this, Leah. You’ve been working too hard, isolating yourself, and guess what? You deserve a little happiness.”
I hesitate. The logical part of me screams that this is a bad idea. That drawing attention to myself—even for something as innocent as a baby shower—is reckless.
But then, another part of me wants to experience something normal.
And when Maggie’s grin widens in anticipation, I realize I can’t bring myself to tell her no.
“…Fine,” I say, sighing. “But small.”
Maggie squeals in triumph, bouncing on her heels. “You won’t regret this.”
Just as I open my mouth to reply, the door swings open, and Alex walks in.
He takes one look at Maggie’s overexcited expression, then at my tired one, and instantly looks suspicious. “What did I just walk into?”
Maggie claps her hands together. “Perfect timing! You’re officially part of the baby shower committee.”
Alex freezes, his face a mixture of confusion and alarm. “The what?”
My steps quicken as I reach the small café, needing the comfort of routine, of something normal. The bell above the door chimes as I step inside. The scent of coffee and baked goods wraps around me like a blanket, but it does little to settle the riot inside me.
Maggie looks up from behind the counter, and for the first time in a long time, she looks sheepish. Her curls are pulled into a messy ponytail, and she fiddles with a dish towel.
“Leah,” she says, offering a hesitant smile. “I’m so sorry.”
I sigh, dropping my bag onto the counter. “Maggie?—”
“No, seriously.” She steps closer, gripping the towel tightly. “I was a dick. I shouldn’t have lied to you, and I definitely shouldn’t have pulled that stunt to get you to the party.”
I cross my arms, arching an eyebrow. “You think?”
She winces. “I thought it was harmless! But when I saw your face…I realized I messed up.” She exhales, her brown eyes pleading. “I feel awful. Please don’t stay mad at me forever.”
I sigh again, rubbing my temple. The truth is, I don’t have the energy to hold on to my anger—not with everything else I have to deal with.
“I’m not mad,” I finally say, sliding onto one of the stools by the counter.
Maggie’s shoulders sag in relief. “Good. Because I want to make it up to you.”
I tilt my head. “How?”
She grins, eyes gleaming with something suspiciously mischievous. “Let me throw you a baby shower.”
I blink. “Wait, what?”
“A baby shower!” Maggie claps her hands. “You’re getting close now, and I figured—you probably haven’t even thought about it, have you?”
No, I haven’t.
I haven’t let myself think about anything beyond survival, beyond making sure no one finds me, beyond the fact that I’m carrying Mikhail’s children and he has no idea.
Maggie misreads my silence as reluctance and presses on.
“Come on, it’ll be fun! Just a small thing—some cupcakes, a few friends, cute little decorations.” She waggles her brows. “You can even pick a theme. Oh! Maybe something adorable like woodland creatures.”
I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. “Maggie, I don’t know?—”
“Oh, don’t even try to say no,” she interrupts. “You need this, Leah. You’ve been working too hard, isolating yourself, and guess what? You deserve a little happiness.”
I hesitate. The logical part of me screams that this is a bad idea. That drawing attention to myself—even for something as innocent as a baby shower—is reckless.
But then, another part of me wants to experience something normal.
And when Maggie’s grin widens in anticipation, I realize I can’t bring myself to tell her no.
“…Fine,” I say, sighing. “But small.”
Maggie squeals in triumph, bouncing on her heels. “You won’t regret this.”
Just as I open my mouth to reply, the door swings open, and Alex walks in.
He takes one look at Maggie’s overexcited expression, then at my tired one, and instantly looks suspicious. “What did I just walk into?”
Maggie claps her hands together. “Perfect timing! You’re officially part of the baby shower committee.”
Alex freezes, his face a mixture of confusion and alarm. “The what?”
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