Make Me Yours

the secretary stayed on for more than a week, it’d be a fucking miracle.

His phone started ringing as he strode into his office. He cursed and fished it out of his pocket. An unfamiliar number scrolled across the screen. Aaron took a breath and put his professional persona on. “Aaron Livingston.”

“Hey, Aaron.”

Three months later, he’d still recognize Becka’s voice anywhere. He walked back to his office, shut his door, and moved around his desk to sit down. “I didn’t expect to hear from you.” He realized how that must sound and grimaced. “But I’m glad you called.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to call.” Her voice went thick as if she was...holding back tears? “Funny story. Remember when the condom broke? Well, apparently the pill isn’t one hundred percent foolproof because, surprise, I’m pregnant.”

He waited for the words to rearrange themselves into an order that made sense. They stayed stubbornly in place. “What?”

“Pregnant. With your kid.” She cleared her throat. “I, ah, I wasn’t going to keep it, but I chickened out at the last second, and it turns out I want this baby. I’m sorry. I swear to God I didn’t know this would happen, and I don’t expect anything from you. It’s not your problem—it’s mine. I just... I thought you should know.”

A baby.

His baby.

With Becka.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus. She thought he would wash his hands of this. Aaron had questions—a whole hell of a lot of questions—but he didn’t honestly believe that Becka had tricked him into getting her pregnant. She sounded upset and scared, and the fact she’d let that slip through what he surmised were impressive shields meant she was exponentially more freaked out. How long have you been sitting on this knowledge, scared and alone?

He wasn’t about to let her shoulder it by herself. That child was half his, and if she was keeping it, he would be in the baby’s life. End of story.

That decided, he opened his eyes, plan in place. “Where are you?”

“What? I’m at home.”

“Text me the address.”