Page 82 of Accidental Theirs

The food arrives, and I have absolutely no appetite. So, I ignore it and stare at Olivia as she picks at her lobster and T-bone.

“I have an IUD. Sue me, I missed the appointment to get it updated. It’s not like any of you suggested protection, either.”

She’s right, but it feels like there’s something crawling under my skin.

Anger and jealousy cloud my thoughts.

“I can’t do this.” I stand up, and she frowns up at me.

“Sit down,” she hisses.

The anger boils up even more. “You came here to confront me about lying to you, but you’ve been keeping an entirebabyfrom me?”

I remain standing, taking out my wallet to throw more than enough cash down on the table. Our poor server deserves a good tip, anyway.

“Damien, please—” Tears are rolling down her face.

My heart aches, but I told her the truth.

I really can’t do this. Not here. Not now. I need time to process this.

“I’ll see you at work.”

I storm out of the restaurant.

I’m waiting at the valet when she calls my name.

I freeze and don’t turn until her hand touches my shoulder.

“Damien, please.” Her voice is cracked, and I want to give in.

I want to pull her into my arms, tell her I’m sorry, that we’ll get through this together.

But I can’t.

I wrench away from her when the valet stops in front of us, and I get in and drive away, watching her look smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror.

I can’t be around anyone right now, so I just head home, walking into my place and immediately heading for the liquor cabinet.

Never been much of a drinker, but Olivia and this whole situation are driving me to it.

I pour myself a hefty glass and wince as the liquor burns down my throat.

I can barely breathe, there are knots in my stomach.

It only takes a few minutes for me to start feeling light-headed because I skipped lunch and went to the gym instead, and I couldn’t bring myself to eat after Olivia gave me the news.

She’spregnant.

And it could be Dominic’s. Or Sebastian’s.

But what if it’s mine? What if it’s a little girl with her pale green eyes or a little boy with my nose? What if we could get married, be a family?

God, would I even be a good father? It’s not like I had a role model growing up.

I pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers and plop down on the couch, chugging down the rest of the glass and nearly gagging at the taste.

“What am I supposed to do now?” I mutter to myself, my head spinning.