Loyal Lawyer by Lauren Runow
Chapter Twenty-Two
It’s been a whirlwind week, and I’m not even the one who had a baby. Just being there for Sebastian has been an absolute mixture of emotions. The hospital kept baby Oliver for an extra few days before he went home to Lauren’s house, so I have yet to actually meet him.
Sebastian took a paternity leave and has been at Lauren’s every waking moment. I love that he wants to be a part of these early days, so I’m sitting back while he’s spending these precious moments of the first days of life with his son.
Every night, he comes home, exhausted but full of pictures and stories of how the day went. Hearing him talk about his son is the sweetest, sexiest thing I’ve ever heard from a man. I love listening to his day. I just wish I could be a part of them as well.
While he’s living this dual life, I sit here, trying my hardest to be the supportive girlfriend in his current situation
I’m at my office, making a surprise gift for both him and Lauren because, honestly, I don’t know what else to do, and my orders are all set for the weekend. Of course, I stick to what I know and am in the process of making a huge chocolate bar that’s engraved with his name—Oliver Deveraux Blake. Deveraux is Lauren’s last name. Instead of hyphenating the baby’s last name, Lauren agreed to have his middle name be her last name, and Sebastian was thrilled. Doesn’t hurt that it sounds super regal.
Shawn is just about to head out after packaging the last of the supplies that came in today when he comes over to where I’m finishing off the mold.
“What are you working on?” He leans over the counter to see it better.
I shrug with a sigh. I know this should make me happy, but my emotions are all over the place today. “It’s a surprise for Sebastian.”
“Oh, is that the kid’s full name?” He comes closer to read it. “His middle name is Deveraux?”
“Yeah, it’s his mom’s maiden name.”
“No shit? I dated some crazy broad last year who had the same name. Man, she was a piece of work. Wait.” He grabs the mold and yanks it toward him, where he reads Oliver’s birth date, weight, and both Sebastian’s and Lauren’s name. “Sebastian’s ex is named Lauren?”
His eyes meet mine, and I can see his wheels turning as he waits for my answer.
“Yeah,” I say slowly, confused as to why he’s asking.
“Lauren Deveraux?”
I nod more in question than agreement.
“Are you positive it’s spelled that way?” he asks.
“Seriously? Yes, this is how you spell Lauren. Spelling it L-O-R-E-N is mainly used when the name is for a guy. Lauren is not a name you spell some crazy way.”
He purses his lips. “There is another way. Is she blonde, kind of pretentious, and has a great rack?”
I pause and turn to face him fully. “What are you saying, Shawn?”
“I’m saying, I think you should text Sebastian and ask him if she spells her name with a Y instead of an E. L-A-U-R-Y-N.”
With a huff, I take out my phone and scan my text messages to Sebastian, looking for a time we’ve chatted about her to see how she spells her name. Oddly, I don’t see it at all. We’ve definitely spoken about the woman numerous times, but turns out, she’s never been the fodder for our text conversations. I shoot a text to Sebastian, asking which is the proper spelling. He shoots back a message, and I groan in annoyance.
“Ugh. You’re right. It’s spelled with a Y. I have to remake the mold.” Sliding my phone into my pocket, I take the mold from Shawn’s hands and assess it. “Unless I just forgo the parents’ names. I got the baby’s name right.”
Shawn taps his finger to his lips, his brows deeply furrowed as he stares off in the distance.
“You okay over there?” I ask as I consider cutting the mold. I mean, if her name is spelled wrong, will she really be that upset? It’s an honest mistake.
“Lauryn Deveraux. She’s an advertising executive,” he says almost too himself.
I nod absentmindedly. “I guess so. She’s in corporate. Huh? I didn’t know the spelling of her name or what she does for a living. Does that make me shallow? I guess I should know about the woman who bore my boyfriend’s child.” My words are falling on deaf ears as Shawn is lost in thought. “Are you thinking you dated Sebastian’s son’s mom?”
Shawn’s face goes pale, like he just saw a ghost fly right in front of his face, saying it’s here to take his life. He’s frozen like a statue in both fright and shock.
I reach out to him. “Are you breathing?”
“When we hooked up, she said she was technically still with a guy, but things weren’t really working out between them,” he speaks barely above a whisper.
He reaches in his back pocket and pulls out his phone, swiping it in a hurry. His thumb roves over the screen.
“Shawn?” I lean down to catch his attention, but it’s like I’m not here anymore, and he’s in his own world. “Well, if you dated her, that’s quite the coincidence, but it’s nothing to get worked up about.”
He pulls up his Calendar app and counts backward.
“It’s nine months, right? I’ve always heard people talk about nine months later, a baby comes, but then my sister said it was ten months.” He’s blabbering to himself at this point while he does the math in his head, and that’s when everything clicks in mine.
“Are you seeing when Sebastian’s baby was conceived?” I ask in absolute confusion.
He doesn’t move his head, but his eyes lift to meet mine, and my stomach drops. There’s apprehension in those eyes.
“Maybe I’m the one who put that seed in her belly.”
“You can’t be serious.” I’m shaking my head, looking away because Shawn is acting like a drama king right now.
He closes the Calendar app and opens his Photos app. A few flicks of his thumb, and he holds it out to me. “Is this her?”
Staring back at me is the woman I met once at the law office that day. A woman I’ve seen in hundreds of photos every night when Sebastian tells me about his day. And there, right next to her name, is indeed Lauryn—with a Y—Deveraux, clad in a ski outfit and clinking beers with Shawn.
“Yes, that’s her. Is she the one who filled your refrigerator with protein shakes because they were good for your stamina?”
“No. She’s the one I met on that ski weekend in the Poconos in the martini-shaped hot tub.”
“I forgot about that one,” I say with a laugh, and then my face goes serious. That was last year, but it was late last year, around the holidays. I see where Shawn’s misplaced concern is. It’s in the timing. My face goes slack, and a feeling of dread courses through my veins. “There’s no way.” I take a step back, like even if it is true, I’m not willing to believe it.
He lets out a sharp hiss under his breath. “You tell me.” He’s back in the Calendar app, and I can see the frustration growing on his face. “How do you count pregnancy months? They’re not the same as regular months or something, right?”
I blink slowly as I try to grasp what’s going on. There’s no way this isn’t Sebastian’s baby. He has his eyes. I mean … as much as a baby can have the eyes of an adult. I stare at Shawn and don’t see a lick of Oliver.
Shawn raises his eyebrows at me like I’m crazy.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“I asked you a question. Counting. Months. Help.” He shows me his phone.
“Oh.” I run my hands through my hair to rid my thoughts. “Count by weeks. It’s forty weeks of pregnancy.”
He starts back at today and counts backward.
“But wait, he was born at thirty-five weeks. Start at his birthday and then go backward.”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, dropping his phone to the countertop.
“What?” I step closer to him, wanting to shake him but knowing I can’t—I’m his boss after all. “How long has it been?”
“I have to go.” He grabs his phone and turns to leave.
I reach for his arm to stop him. “Shawn, you can’t just leave.”
“Yes, Amy. Yes, I can.” A sharp jolt of his arm releases him from my grasp.
Wow. Not only has my stomach already dropped, but now, my throat is also dry, and I feel like there’s a lump in my chest.
He’s taking off his apron and grabbing his messenger bag.
“Shawn, wait. Are you sure? Do you really think you could be Oliver’s father? Talk to me.”
He stops and faces me so fast that I almost fall back on my ass. “No, Amy. Forget about it. There’s nothing to talk about. Oliver is Sebastian’s son. End of story.”
“But if he’s not, then you need to say something.”
“I’m out. Kid’s not mine. Forget I said anything.”
“Shawn!” I yell as he slams the door behind him and walks out of the building.
I throw up my arms in disbelief as I spin around to talk about what just happened, but I realize quickly that I’m all alone.
My heart pounds as my stomach flips, so I wrap my arms around my waist, hugging myself to try to calm down.
What if he’s the father?
My God, Sebastian would be devastated. He’s been over-the-moon happy since Oliver arrived. He’s said so many times how happy he is, being a father.
So, what do I do? Do I keep this possibility to myself? Because that’s what this is. A possibility.
Memories of him not finding out for weeks flash in front of me.
Could she be lying?
I think about the difference between Shawn and Sebastian.
Sebastian’s a very successful attorney who’s got his life together and very much wants to be a father. Shawn, on the other hand, was working for minimum wage at the time while going to school. He doesn’t even have a car, let alone have his life together.
If I were pregnant and there was a possibility between Sebastian and Shawn being the father, it wouldn’t be a question on who I would want to be the father, but could I be that kind of woman?
Is she that kind of woman?Could she lie about something like this to fit the narrative she wants?
Visions of the way she was dressed with her high-end bag and the way she held her hand out to me like she was royalty make me run to the bathroom with dry heaves. She’s a corporate woman, someone with a plan and an image. She was with Sebastian far longer than her weekly fling with Shawn. Odds are, it’s Sebastian’s, yet I can see why she wouldn’t even entertain the idea of it being Shawn’s. The outcome would be absolutely different.
It could also be why she waited fifteen weeks to tell him.
She had a lot to think about.
As I stare at my reflection in the mirror, I feel the tears start to prick my eyes.
How can I keep this from the man I love, but even more, how can I break his heart if it is true and Oliver isn’t his?
I spend the next hour sitting with my hands in my hair as I lean my elbows on my knees in thought.
The battle between right and wrong or good versus evil is real, but right now, I don’t even know what is right, what is wrong, and what is good or evil. I’ve come up with a thousand different reasons why I should stay in my lane and keep my mouth shut. But I’ve also come up with a thousand reasons why I can’t let the man I love raise a child that possibly isn’t his, especially if I want to be in this man’s life.
And I really do.
I love Sebastian more than I thought I ever would, and seeing him with Oliver has just intensified those feelings. Yes, things are a little awkward, but those are my problems, and I know I’ll be able to work through them eventually. But if I don’t tell him, I’ll always have the thought in the back of my mind.
What if it’s true and we find out ten years from now that Oliver’s not his? That would be a million times worse than finding out now, when he’s a baby. Right?
I drop back in my chair and stare at the ceiling, hoping the building opens up and the answer falls down from the sky and slaps me across the face.
My phone dings with a text message.
Lauryn wants to get some rest, so I get to bring Oliver home! Are you at my place?
I stare at her name. I’m a huge believer of signs being everywhere, and the fact that he writes her name for the first time in all these months, right after I found out everything I did, is a huge sign.
I just wish I hadn’t seen this particular sign.
I take a deep breath and respond.
I’m still at work, but I’ll be there soon.
I turn off my phone, so I don’t see his response. I don’t want to be tempted to say anything. I haven’t made up my mind yet if I should, so I take away all possibilities of making the wrong choice before I’ve thought it out.
The chocolate bar is still sitting here, waiting to be wrapped. I take my time with it before making my way to Sebastian’s house.
When I arrive, he must hear me approaching because he swings the door open, looking like a little boy who’s waiting for Santa to come with a new bike.
“I just put him in his crib.” He blinks away tears.
It’s the sweetest moment I’ve ever witnessed, and it’s as simple as putting his child to bed.
He grabs my hand and rushes me to Oliver’s room, which he’s made to look like a catalog nursery with no expense spared.
As I glance over the wall of the crib, I see the tiniest baby boy with a sleeper on that is just a little too big for his preemie size.
My foot kicks the end of the crib on accident, and Oliver jumps slightly, bringing his hands up to his face before slowly dropping them back down to the bed in a soft slumber.
Sebastian grabs my hand that’s resting on the side of the crib and holds it tightly. I wrap my arm around his waist and lean into his chest. When he kisses the top of my head, I feel the love he has for me and the love he has for his son in spades.
My stomach hurts from the thoughts of today, but my heart soars to see this man, who I love so deeply with all my soul, so happy to have his son asleep in his home for the first time.
I still have no idea what I should do, but I know this is a moment I don’t want to ruin for him, so I tilt my head up to see him face-to-face.
He leans down to kiss my lips. The gesture is so genuine, but all it does is truly tear me up inside.