Worth the Fight (Accidentally on Purpose) (2 page)

Chapter One

My cell phone was wedged between my shoulder and my ear as I listened to Claire bitch about my lack of commitment. I juggled my briefcase and my duffel bag as I unlocked the door to my apartment before kicking it open. I dropped the bag on the floor by the door as it closed behind me and set my briefcase down with more care.

“Claire, I told you in the beginning I wasn’t looking for anything serious,” I said tiredly as I pulled open the fridge to get a much needed beer. “I was very clear about it and you said you were fine with it.”

I should have known better than to believe that she would be okay for more than a few weeks. Claire wasn’t a casual sex kind of girl. Claire was a settle down and get married and have kids kind of girl. I knew that very well about her since I had dated her for a year before moving to Philly many years ago, but she seemed so adamant that she could handle a casual relationship.

“I thought you just needed some time to deal with wha
tever the hell you were dealing with in your head,” she whined. “I thought you would come around.”

I rolled my eyes at this bullshit. I didn’t realize Claire was so stupid.  I took a pull on my beer and said “Have I ever been anything but straight forward with you, Claire? Have I e
ver said one thing and meant another in all of the years that you’ve known me?”

She paused for a moment before answering. “No, but…but you were never…brokenhearted before. The circu
mstances are different.”

I closed my eyes for a moment. The last thing I wanted to talk about was the state of my heart.

“Yes,” I reluctantly agreed. “The circumstances are different, but that doesn’t change my direct approach.”

“I turned down other guys for you, Luke!” Claire yelled.

“You could have ended our agreement at any time if you wanted to be with someone,” I sighed as I walked into the living room and dropped down onto the couch. “Listen, Claire, I don’t mean to hurt you. I really don’t. The last thing I want to do is hurt anyone, but…”

“But what?” she snapped. “But you want to sleep around with other women? Is that it, Luke?”

“Not at all,” I said patiently as I glanced at the pile of mail on my coffee table, remembering that my sister Lena told me I had a letter delivered by a courier yesterday. “I don’t sleep with more than one woman at a time, Claire. You know me better than that, but I don’t want a relationship either.”

She said something in response, but I didn’t really hear her. The envelope on top of the pile caught my eye. I wasn’t sure if I was seeing it right until I picked it up and held it only inches from my eyes. Emmy sent me a letter.

I was disappointed that my heart rate suddenly increased, and further disappointed that my hands were itching to open the letter, but a large part of me wasn’t sure if it was something I wanted to open. After months of trying to push any memory of her out of my head – only to be repeatedly reminded of her when I saw her mother – I had at least gotten to the point where she wasn’t the first thing on my mind when I woke up and the last thing on my mind when I went to sleep. I had finally gotten to the point where my pain was dulled and more often than not forgotten. I was able to go days without thinking of her more than once or twice a day, opposed to the constant torture of hearing her voice in my head and smelling her skin in the weeks and months after I broke up with her.

“Are you listening to me?” Claire whined again. I rea
lized at that moment that Claire whined a lot. Even when we were having sex, she did this weird whining thing that she probably thought was sexy, but it really wasn’t. Not even a little bit.

“I gotta go,” I said distractedly. “I’ll call you soon.”

I didn’t give her an opportunity to respond before ending the call and dropping my phone on the couch beside me. I stared at the letter, weighing it in my hands. What could she possibly have to say to me after all of this time?

“Only one way to find out,” I sighed heavily before beginning to slowly peel open the envelope. I pulled out the fol
ded letter inside and weighed that in my hands, too. I could burn it or push it into the garbage disposal and not worry about what Emmy had to say. I could put it back in the envelope, reseal it and send it back without looking at it. I was very tempted to do any one of those things. I had finally moved on and I didn’t want to find myself stuck on someone that didn’t deserve my time and my thoughts, but I knew I had to open it even though I had a gut feeling it was about to change my life.

I unfolded the letter and began to read.

Dear Luke,

I have rewritten this letter a dozen times already, but I feel there is no smooth way to lead up to what I have to say, so here it is: You are the father of a five month old, beautiful baby boy. His name is Lucas, in honor of his father, and he was born May 18th.

I didn't tell you because I know you hate me, and my bi
ggest fear is that you will hate my son, too. Maybe that fear is unreasonable, but I have had a very hard time getting past it.

I am in Chicago for a day or so, at the Fairmont, room 317. If you would like to meet your son, I will be here all day today.

I am sorry for keeping this from you, and I am sorry for forcing my mother to keep this from you. Please don't be angry with her. It is my fault entirely.

Sincerely,

Emmy

The paper fluttered to the floor as I stared at nothing with my mouth hanging wide open.

This had to be a joke. This couldn’t have possibly been true. Even Emmy wasn’t that cruel to keep a child away from me, and her mother was the bluntest person I knew. Surely, she would have been falling over herself to tell me about my son, if I really even had one.

And then I realized something. Samantha didn’t go out of her way to spend much time with me as she did with my sisters. I didn’t think anything about it because they were all women and women tend to cluster together, but what if she was avoi
ding me? What if those looks of pity weren’t for the fact that her daughter had destroyed my heart or that my sister was near death, but because she knew a big, earth shattering secret?

“Shit!” I yelled as I jumped off of the couch and dashed for the door. I took a detour into the small kitchen for my keys and then ran out into the hall.

Emmy would fuck someone else throughout our relationship and lie about it, but Emmy wouldn’t lie about something like this after over a year long absence. Samantha would hold this secret for her daughter or risk losing her and her grandson.

I rocketed out of the parking garage and onto the street, just barely missing oncoming traffic. I hate driving in the city and usually take public transportation, but I was anxious to get to the Fairmont. My mind was racing all the way there and I couldn’t keep any one thought in mind before another rushed forward to take its place. It wasn’t until I had rushed into the lobby a little while later that another thought occurred to me, halting me in my tracks and knocking the breath out of me.

What if this Lucas wasn’t really my kid at all? What if he was Kyle Sterling’s?

“Can I help you, sir?” the woman in guest services asked me.

It took me a few seconds, but I was able to tell her why I was there before I started towards the bank of elevators.

“Miss Grayne stepped out,” she called after me. “Can I have your name?”

I stopped and took a few steps back until I was standing in front of her. “Luke Kessler,” I said, curious as to why she needed my name.

She smiled at me. “Yes, I was expecting you yesterday. Miss Grayne and the baby went out a little while ago. Maybe you can wait for her in the lobby,” she said, gesturing towards the fancy furniture behind me.

I nodded and wordlessly walked away from her. There was nothing to say. One thing was confirmed, there definitely was a baby. The question was whether or not he was mine. I immediately felt a little bit like a dick for thinking that. This was definitely something Emmy wouldn’t drag me into if Lucas was not my kid, but what if he wasn’t? How would I know? But what if he was – what would I do about it?

I suddenly felt like an ass for showing up to meet my son for the first time empty handed. I got up and marched to the gift shop. There were little shirts with
Chicago
scrolled across them, but I didn’t know what size the kid was. There were little sippy cups and a few other baby items, but I didn’t like any of it. I wasn’t going to give my kid some cheesy gift shop gift – if he was my kid. I told the woman at guest services that I would be back shortly. I rushed out of the hotel and used my cell phone to find a store to buy Lucas a gift. Once I was inside the baby store, I felt overwhelmed by all of the possibilities. There were so many baby items, things I had never even seen before with my nieces and nephews. Emmy and Sam probably made sure Lucas had everything he could ever need, so I walked away from the many gadgets and headed towards an aisle of toys.

What did I like as a kid? Hell, he was five months old. He probably liked anything that tasted halfway decent when it went into his mouth. I picked up a little stuffed whale. It r
eminded me of a vacation my family took to Sea World when I was a little kid. My parents were hard working lower middle class people. Trips to Sea World and the like were far and few between, if ever. It hit me then how hard it must have been for them to afford that trip and continue to feed us and keep a roof over our heads the months preceding and following that trip, but my parents wanted to make sure that we actually
went
somewhere and
did
something. They wanted to give us a little more than what their parents were able to give to them. If Lucas was indeed my kid, I wanted to be able to give him more than what my parents gave me, too.

I took the whale to the checkout line. Lucas or Emmy may not understand the significance of the whale, but I would. Besides, it was a sensible gift to give to my son that I was just meeting for the first time, though nothing about the situation was sensible.

I returned to the Fairmont and sat back down in the chair I had sat in earlier. I had an unobstructed view of the entrance. I didn’t take my eyes off of it. I’m not even sure I blinked. I don’t know how long I was sitting there staring before I saw first a stroller full of bags roll inside, and then the waves of brown hair, stuck to her face from the October wind. I watched as she pushed the strands off of her smooth cheek and smiled at the blond hair, blue eyed infant in her arm before continuing to push the stroller with her spare hand. Even from where I seemed to be stuck in the chair, I could see that Lucas was my son. His startling blue, smiling eyes were my own.

Somehow I pushed myself out of the chair and moved across the lobby until I was standing in their path. As soon as our eyes met, I felt immeasurable pain, anger, fear, and remar
kably, love. For a half a moment, I wanted nothing more than to take Emmy and Lucas into my arms and make everything the way it should have always been, but then I remembered that she fucking broke my heart. I inhaled sharply as that old knife twisted in my heart, and then I turned my attention to my son.
My son
.

I fought back emotions as I offered him my finger, before remembering that I had touched all kinds of gross things since leaving my apartment and I didn’t want my fingers in his mouth.

“You didn’t come,” Emmy blurted out.

I felt bad for her for a minute. It must have been torture for her as she waited for me to respond. She must have thought that I didn’t want Lucas, and I couldn’t imagine how that must have felt.

“Yeah, I'm sorry,” I said. “I was out of town. My sister just happened to be in my apartment dropping off some things I left in her basement when the letter came. I didn't read it until this morning when I got in.”

I looked at her, hoping she believed me.

“I understand,” she said, shifting Lucas from one arm to another.

“Can I hold him?” I asked.

“Of course.”

Carefully, Emmy passed Lucas to me. Again I had to fight back emotions as I looked at this perfect baby boy that I helped create. I had a great relationship with all of my nieces and nephews, and at one point in my life I had wanted children, but after what I went through with Emmy, I didn’t think about it anymore. However, only moments after meeting Lucas, I knew I’d never be the same, and I felt so grateful to hold my son.

*~~~*

I stayed with Emmy and Lucas all day that day. I played with him, I talked to him, I held him, I changed him, and I only released him long enough for Emmy to feed him. I should have looked away when I saw how uncomfortable she was to breast feed him in front of me, but it wasn’t about her. It was about Lucas. Everything about him was perfect and I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, even though he was feeding off of his e
xposed mother.

I had only been with him for a short time, but I could not imagine just leaving and having to deal with child custody agreements and the distance that would surely be between us when Emmy went back to wherever the hell she came from. Moreover, if she was with Kyle, I was going to have to fight to make sure that Lucas knew who his father really was. The idea that I would have to go up against Kyle again for someone else I loved infuriated me. I let him win last time, because Emmy stopped being worth the trouble when she allowed the situation to continue, but I wasn’t going to let him win my son.

As the day wore on, I became angrier and angrier with Emmy for keeping our son from me. It stirred the pot of negativity I had been carrying around for her. When Lucas took a nap, I threw myself into my work, virtually ignoring her so that I wouldn’t snap, and I was very close to snapping. I had never in my life hit a woman, but the urge to put my hands around her throat and squeeze was pretty damn overwhelming. My sense of right and wrong and the fact that our child was sleeping a few feet away are what saved her from my wrath that day. I couldn’t even look at her, but I chanced one glance and immediately regretted it.

Beside the fact that she looked like a scared, trapped, and scarred animal, Emmy was breathtaking. Her hair had grown significantly and the extra pounds she put on from her pregna
ncy gave her curves she had never had before. Her skin looked so soft and I so badly wanted to touch her to find out, but instead I made some ridiculous comment about her hair growing out and the sound of Lucas waking from his nap stopped me from saying anything further.

I went back to virtually ignoring Emmy until Lucas went to bed for the night. Still seething mad, I turned to her to co
nfront her but I bit my tongue when I saw the look on her face. She was actually pouting a little. What the hell? I scratched my head trying to figure this out, but then I realized I had completely taken over all day and Em didn’t get much time with Lucas herself. I couldn’t blame her. He was a remarkable kid.

“I'm sorry. I totally took over today,” I said.

“I'm not used to sharing him,” she said, looking at her hands in her lap. She had not looked me in the eyes since I first saw them in the lobby earlier in the day.

“I'm going to go pick up some dinner,” I said, moving towards the door. “We'll talk when I get back.”

She probably wasn’t going to like what I was going to suggest, but I had to make some kind of effort to hold on to Lucas.

“Hold on,” she said and hurried into the bedroom. She held out a room key to me. “You can let yourself back in. I'm going to take a shower.”

When I took it from her, my fingers grazed hers. I was pissed off at the tremors of electricity that shot up my fingers and through my arm. I was pissed that she still had that effect on me after all she had done. I quickly pulled away and rushed out of the door.

When I returned later, Emmy was still in the shower. I set the food down on the coffee table and pulled my phone out of my pocket. Claire had called several times during the day, and there was no way I was in the mood to sort through her many text messages. I made sure the phone was still muted and put it down on the table before going into the bedroom to check on Lucas.

I leaned over the crib and watched as his little mouth made suckling motions as he slept. I couldn’t believe I had missed not only the first five months of his life, but all of the time that he was growing inside of his mother’s womb. I missed sonogram pictures, measurements, and most of all his birth. I would have given anything to have been there when he was born. The fact that Emmy denied me all of this made me want to snatch my son out of his crib and take him from her so she would know how it felt, but I pushed those irrational thoughts away and just thanked god I still had a chance, albeit late. I looked at his little fingers attached to his little hands, and the wisps of blond hair across his forehead. His little chest rose and fell easily and his soft snores made me smile.

The bathroom door opened and I heard Emmy’s sharp i
ntake of breath when she saw me.

“Sorry,” I said and glanced over at her, taking note that she was wrapped in a towel. I looked back at Lucas. “I’m just…amazed. He’s perfect.”

“Yes, he is,” she agreed softly.

I looked up at her again. Her wet hair clung to her bare shoulders. The towel didn’t hide her curves or the swells of her full breasts. If things were as they should have been, I would have relieved her of her towel and made love to her damp body. But things weren’t as they should have been. Emmy cheated on me for months after I had given her my heart. Even after I told her that I hoped that Kyle broke her heart and made her choke on it, if she would have dropped everything and everyone and came after me in Chicago, I would have given in and I would have taken her back, but she didn’t, and that crushed me, too. Then she hid her pregnancy from me, probably had plans to raise
my
son with that dick Kyle. She hid Lucas’s birth, and for five months of his life denied him his father. I never did anything so horrible as to deserve this disgusting treatment from Emmy. I did nothing but love her and then let her go so she could be with that asshole, and yet she punished me relentlessly. My heart was breaking all over again as I looked at her in that towel, and this time the pain was so much deeper because my absence from Lucas’s life was also heartbreaking.

I did what I needed to do so that I wouldn’t do anything I’d regret with Lucas in the room. I turned away from this woman, the only woman in the world who had the power to break me.