Page 6 of One Little Mistake

Max

I want to sleep. It feels like I could pass out standing up. But instead of going home after all this chaos, I’m sitting in the head OB’s office, where the nurse led me for some unknown reason, sipping disgusting instant coffee and hoping it’ll at least jolt me awake.

The hospital smell clings to my nose, dragging up memories of the worst times in my life, and the nervous tension is gnawing at me.

I pace the room, then rock on a chair that’s about to collapse.

It’s almost morning. I’m exhausted, pissed off, and starving.

But something keeps me here, won’t let me just get up and leave.

The department head shows up out of nowhere—disheveled, sleepy, and clearly anxious. She greets me with a nod, pulls a white coat from the cabinet, then sinks into the chair across from me with a heavy sigh.

“My name is Marie Gray. And you’re Mr. Taylor…?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

I nod, not sure how she already knows my name.

“Alright, Mr. Taylor. The thing is, your wife—”

“No, no, we’re not married,” I cut her off quickly, down the last of the coffee, and rub my eyes.

“Erin was admitted too late, so we had to take emergency action. There was significant blood loss. The delivery was… complicated,” she says carefully, choosing every word, and I get the feeling she’s holding something back.

“So what’s going on with her?” I ask, a bit on edge, since no one’s told me yet whether she made it or not.

The thought that the redhead might’ve died messes with my head. Just a couple of hours ago, she was in my car, screaming in pain.

“She’s in intensive care. Stable condition, but unconscious. We did everything we could. All we can do now is wait and hope.”

“Got it. Thanks for the update. Can I go now?” The relief hits me hard. She’s alive. She’s too young to die like that, leaving a kid behind. And I still don’t know what the hell she was doing in my apartment, which is driving me insane.

“The baby boy’s fine, if you’re wondering.”

“Yeah, someone already told me.”

“If you’d like to see him, you can come by tomorrow.”

“Eh… no thanks. I’m not really feeling it.”

The doctor’s face changes instantly—from kind to stiff, from neutral to judgmental. Her eyes say it all: she thinks I’m the father, and I couldn’t care less about my son. But I’m not about to correct her. Let her believe whatever she wants. Doesn’t matter to me.

“So that’s it?” I get up from the chair and remember the bag I’ve been dragging around for hours for no damn reason. “By the way, these are Erin’s things. Where should I put them?”

“Leave them, I’ll pass them to the medical staff. And… I checked, her insurance is out-of-network…”

I blink.

“What does that mean?”

“It means our hospital isn’t in her insurance company’s provider network.”

A laugh slips out of me.

“Maybe contact her relatives then? Do you have any numbers?”

“You’re the only one listed under emergency contacts,” she says, giving me a sharp look from behind her glasses.

“No way, that can’t be right,” I frown.

“Maxwell Taylor,” she reads from Erin’s medical file. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

“You could say that,” I sigh in defeat, realizing I can’t just walk away and leave Erin here. It’d be a whole different thing if she were conscious and could call her family, but right now?

No one even knows if her “Maxwell Taylor” exists — or if they’d even be able to reach him.

I get home at dawn. My eyes blur, my temples pound. I sit in the car for a couple minutes, gather some strength before heading up. I close my eyes—and I don’t even realize when I fall asleep.

I jolt awake when a car horn blares, slam my head into the door, and glance around, completely disoriented.

It takes me a moment to figure out where I am.

Mentally, I’m still in my cabin on the ship, catching sleep before a shift.

My eyes widen, my heart hammers. People are rushing by outside the window—it feels surreal after staring at the same damn horizon for half a year.

“Shit,” I mutter, stretching my stiff neck and reaching for my phone. One in the afternoon. Just great. What a night.

I pray this was all just a dream. But no—the red scarf on the back seat, the one Erin forgot in a hurry, is still there. A reminder that, apparently, I became a “dad” last night.

Her face flashes before my eyes again, and I need to get to the bottom of this. Fast.

I step out of the car and call my sister on the go. If Erin was telling the truth and really knew her, then Elena’s the one who can clear things up.

“Aaaaaaah! Brother!” Her squeal blasts through the speaker, and I wince. “You’re back already? Why didn’t you tell me?! Did you bring me gifts? Did you get that bag from Italy like I asked?”

A grin tugs at my lips just from hearing her voice. Elena’s twenty, but half the time she acts like a kid. In my head, she still is one.

“I’m back, I’m back. And yeah, I got the perfume, too. Listen, have you been to my place while I was gone?” I press the elevator button and tense up, waiting for my sister’s answer.

“Well yeah, I told you I would.”

“And you didn’t notice anything… weird in the apartment?” I lower my voice, glancing over at the concierge, who’s eyeing me suspiciously. Looks like he doesn’t recognize me. Not that I recognize him either.

“Other than the pregnant fiancée you’re apparently hiding from the entire world?

” she teases, and I close my eyes, biting back a curse.

“But don’t worry, bro, I didn’t say anything to Mom and Dad.

Figured if you’re keeping quiet, there’s a reason.

You’ll introduce Erin to everyone when you’re ready. ”

Well, at least there’s that. The last thing I need is our parents getting excited about some long-awaited “grandchild”.

“Elena, I met her for the first time in my life yesterday,” I sigh, completely done with everything. “So now tell me everything, in order. I seriously don’t understand how this girl managed to get into my apartment. She’s probably just a scammer. A pregnant scammer.”

“What?” she gasps and goes quiet. Hopefully, she’s racking her brain for every detail. Then suddenly, she bursts out laughing. “God, Max! Why do I always fall for your dumb jokes?”

“It’s not a joke, Elena. I’m dead serious. I have no clue who Erin is or how she convinced everyone she’s my fiancée. So start remembering.”

“I did tell you about her. And you even replied—barely, in your usual way. Did you forget already? Stop messing with me. I was already getting excited about babysitting my nephew. When is he due again?”

“Wait, when exactly did you tell me about her?”

“When I stayed at your place for that Lara Fabian concert. I opened the door and walked in—and there was this random girl mopping the floor. I even sent you a pic from the concert, remember? We all went together. Didn’t Erin mention it?”

“Don’t hang up,” I say quickly and open my messages.

I scroll through our short chat, and my finger freezes when I see the photo from the concert hall downtown.

My sister and a girl with fiery red hair.

Erin. No doubt about it. Just not as pale and exhausted as she looked yesterday.

She’s thinner, with sharp cheekbones, long curls, makeup, a bright sparkle in her eyes, and a wide smile.

“Erin is so cute. You two would look great together,” Elena had written.

“Yeah,” I replied. That was it. “I thought she was just one of your friends you’re always trying to set me up with,” I mutter in frustration, finally realizing that this girl didn’t just barge into my apartment—she barged into my life.

“Wait… you’re not joking?” my sister asks, now sounding serious.

“Does it sound like I am?”

“So… wait, the baby isn’t yours?” She actually sounds disappointed. Like that’s what we should be worrying about right now. “Why don’t you just ask her? Let her explain. Max, Erin’s amazing! I was honestly happy you’d finally found a good girl and were settling down.”

“Don’t start, Elena. You know I’m not getting married anytime in the next ten years. Just tell me—did she say anything about herself?”

“No. I don’t think so. Honestly, I think the best thing now is to just talk to her.”

“I would love to, but Erin’s in a coma,” I say with a heavy exhale, and something tightens in my chest. I feel bad for her. No matter what. And for the baby, too. If she doesn’t make it… he’ll be left an orphan.

***

I hesitate before pressing the doorbell. I stare at the brown door, hoping I’ll find at least a shred of truth here. Some kind of lead.

Vivienne completely charmed me from the first time we met. So small, delicate, always with a trace of sadness in her eyes.

But not anymore, because now she’s practically glowing with happiness—something I can’t quite share with her at the moment.

“Oh, Max, hi! It’s so good to see you. When did you get back?”

I freeze. Her eyes are sparkling, white curls spilling over her shoulders, that wide smile, flawless figure… It honestly looks like she’s gotten even prettier since the last time I saw her.

“Yesterday. Evening,” I say hoarsely, after a pause, grateful for my thick stubble hiding my face. I’m pretty sure I blushed like some teenage girl under her gaze.

“Wanna come in?” she offers.

“No, I’ll be quick.” Somewhere in the apartment, I hear a low male voice. Logan—her husband—is home. And I’ve got zero desire to run into him right now. “Listen, it’s about Erin,” I mutter, unsure how to ask her why a pregnant stranger ended up living in my apartment.

The situation is a total mess, and accusing Vivienne of letting some scammer into my place feels a bit too harsh.

“Oh, she’s so lovely! I’m really happy for you two,” she says warmly, and I can feel my jaw tighten, my eye twitching at her words.

“Yeah… about that. She’s… not my girlfriend. And I was really hoping you could tell me how she ended up in my apartment.”

“What?” Vivienne’s eyes widen in surprise, and then—just like my sister—she laughs out loud. “Such a dumb joke. Anyway, how’s Erin? She was saying yesterday her back had been aching all day.”

“She’s not great,” I say sharply, not getting into details because I know the two of them had become friends. No point upsetting Vivienne. “I’m serious right now. Some random girl lived in my place for half a year. How did that happen? She said you gave her the keys. Is that true?”

“Yes.” The smile drops from her face instantly. Her eyes dart around nervously. “But… hang on. You asked me to give them to your girlfriend, remember?”

“When did I ever say that?” I scoff in disbelief.

“Well… about a month after you left for your rotation.”

I frown. Try to make sense of what she’s saying. I pull out my phone and scroll through my messages with Vivienne.

And frown again.

“I asked you to let Natalie in. She left some of her stuff at my place.”

“I… I’m sorry… Are you sure? It’s just… she was standing at your door and said your name. It was the day after your message.”

“And it didn’t seem strange to you that she moved in instead of just stopping by for five minutes? And that her name isn’t Natalie?”

“I’m sorry, Max. God, I… I just deleted your message right away. You know how Logan gets about us texting, so I didn’t remember her name. You said a girl would show up, so I gave her the keys. You’re not serious right now, are you?”

Instead of answering, I bring my phone closer to her face so she can see the message with her own eyes.

“Oh.” Vivienne covers her mouth with her hand, looking at me in shock.

“But how? Erin talked about you so much, it never even occurred to me that she might be lying. And she didn’t seem like the type at all.

She runs a flower shop in the mall, volunteers, we even went to the spa and shopping together.

Picked out a crib for your… her baby. Why would she break into your apartment and lie about being with you? ”

Good question.

I rub my face, then give her a brief rundown of everything I’ve managed to learn so far. Now there are three of us—confused, bewildered, and with zero answers.

“She met my sister, too. And apparently my friend.”

“You mean Lucas Simmons?”

I nod.

“He helped assemble the nursery furniture and took some of your books. Said there’s no way you’d let them be thrown out. Promised to stash them for you until you got back.”

I’m both grateful and annoyed that even my friend somehow got roped into this mess. If not for him, some homeless guy could’ve spent the whole winter burning my collectible volumes.

“And how did Lucas even get involved?”

Vivienne shrugs. Then, for some reason, she lowers her voice to a whisper and glances toward the door that leads to my apartment.

“Maybe we should just ask Erin? I still don’t believe she’s some scammer. She had six months to clean out your place, and instead, she turned it into a nursery. That doesn’t really add up, does it?”

“Don’t even mention the nursery,” I groan, rolling my eyes. Another disaster I’ll have to fix.

Vivienne smiles at that, and I can’t help but chuckle too.

“Most likely, her boyfriend found out she was pregnant and just disappeared. Gave her a random address, and it just happened to be mine. Though honestly, that sounds ridiculous,” I sigh.

“Or maybe… maybe this guy actually does know me somehow… I don’t know what to think.

And no one’s giving me a straight answer. ”

“What does Erin say?”

“She’s convinced there’s been some mix-up. That I’m the one who got the wrong apartment. Also, she gave birth yesterday,” I add all in one breath.

“Oh, that’s wonderful…”

Vivienne catches my disapproving look and falls silent, hiding her excitement behind a small, sheepish smile. “I should go visit her. If you’re right and the father really bailed, she’s all alone. God, that’s awful. I can’t imagine what she must be going through.”

“Yeah, we’ll visit. Just… later. The delivery was complicated, and no one’s allowed in right now,” I lie. Mostly.

I say goodbye to Vivienne, promising I’ll let her know when it’s okay to visit Erin, and finally head back into my apartment.

I barely have the energy to take off my shoes before collapsing face-first onto the bed.

The last thing I register before blacking out is that the sheets smell different.

Like someone spilled an entire bottle of floral perfume on them.

It’s irritating.