Chapter 13
DYLAN
I freeze. Ricky and Fiona had clearly been in the middle of an argument. Ricky stops mid-sentence and glares at me. Fiona, heavily pregnant and draped in a hospital gown, is staring at me with a mixture of shock, surprise, exhaustion, anger, and love. And somehow all of those emotions are abundantly clear.
“What the hell are you doing here?” my twin accuses me. I close the door behind me and bat his question right back.
“What the hell are you?”
Ricky scoffs. “Fiona called me to tell me she was pregnant, and there was a very good chance the baby might be mine.”
My girl interrupts then.
“I called you six months ago, Ricky. And only because I wanted you to do a DNA test, not because I want you around,” she says in a trembling voice.
“I told you, I was in Europe,” retorts Ricky defensively. “I only just got your message when I came back last night!”
That makes Fiona angry.
“And just like that, all of a sudden you want to be a father to my baby? After the way you treated me?” she spits. I’m amused to see her sassiness had gone up a few levels during her pregnancy. She looks absolutely beautiful and glowing, even if she does look uncomfortable.
“Well, I’d like at least to discuss the option. I have the right!” whines Ricky like a spoiled child.
This is going too far too fast.
“Okay, hold on a minute here,” I step in. “I’m not going to just stand by and watch this bullshit.” Ricky glares at me with a venom that would never make anyone believe we were family, let alone twins. “I came here to tell Fiona something important, and I need a moment alone with her,” is my stern command.
Ricky scoffs, taking a few aggressive steps towards me. “I know you fucked her right after we broke up, asshole. I’m not going anywhere. If that’s my baby, I have the right to stay right here.”
Anger starts boiling up inside me, but when I see from the corner of my eye that Fiona is burying her face in her hands, I hold myself back.
“You’ve said your piece, Ricky,” I growl through clenched teeth. “Now get out before I throw you out.”
But my twin has never known when to step down. It’s one of his greatest flaws.
“At least I had the decency to break up with Fiona when it wasn't working out. The way I hear it, you abandoned her as soon as you found out she was pregnant,” Ricky spits at me with a sneer.
I have to fight the urge to punch my own twin brother in the face.
“Get out, Ricky,” I growl again. “What makes you think you have the right to claim him or her?”
Ricky sneers.
“You don’t know anything,” he whines again. “You just want to swoop in like a knight in shining armor. But it’s mine! That baby’s mine!” he exclaims, voice rising to a high-pitched shriek.
I snort.
“The fact that you’re talking about the baby like a piece of property tells me you don’t have the right!” I say, my voice rising dangerously. “Now give me a moment with Fiona!” And I grab Ricky by the front of his shirt with one hand, wrench the door open with the other, and throw him out, locking the door behind him.
I turn to face Fiona, who looks distraught. I compose myself, forcing the aggression and shock at Ricky’s unexpected appearance from my body.
“I’m sorry about that,” I say earnestly. “I had no idea he’d be here. He was the last person I expected to see.”
Fiona sighs, avoiding my gaze. Clearly she wasn't expecting him and isn’t pleased with it. But she’s not exactly happy to see me, either, it seems.
“Fiona,” I say gently in my deep voice. “I need to speak to you.” She doesn’t meet my eyes.
“What could you possibly have to say for yourself?” she asks, her normally innocent, light voice now deep with hurt and disappointment. I take a few steps forward so I can get on my knee beside her bed. Despite her efforts to remain composed, I can see this takes her by surprise. She slowly turns her head to face me.
“I’ve been an idiot,” I say simply and sincerely. “I’ve been miserable for the past six months. All I can think about is you.” Fiona’s big brown eyes flare up with hurt and anger.
“So where were you then? Why did you leave me all alone? What’s changed all of a sudden?” she throws at me. I have to be honest with her and hope she will understand and forgive me.
“I’ve learned a lot about myself since I met you, Fiona,” I say huskily. “Before I met you, all I cared about was making money. Working hard, working out, being the big boss. But when I met you it became clear to me that what I was really doing was keeping a demon at bay.”
“A demon?” she asks, her long lashed blinking, her brows furrowing. “What are you talking about?”
I take a deep breath and hope I don’t sound like a madman. This is the first time I’ve uttered these words out loud, let alone to the love of my life. With a surge of passionate warmth, I realize that’s what Fiona is to me. She needs to know the worst parts about me if I’m going to have a life with this gorgeous, innocent girl and our baby. So I begin to tell her my ugly truth, praying furiously that she doesn’t throw me out.
“I’ve always felt like there was a monster inside me,” I continue. “A thing that could be ugly and selfish and destructive. And so all these years I've kept my head down and worked hard and thrown myself into Karmax. I know now that it’s in both Ricky and me, that demon. But what makes us different is that I want to be better. I try to suppress it, whereas he’s let it take over. And now, that’s all Ricky is. A selfish prick who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. He’s a monster now, with an eye to creating destruction wherever he goes. It’s why we don’t see eye to eye. It’s why he treated you the way he did.”
I stop for a moment, hesitating, but Fiona is listening. So I continue.
“When you told me you were pregnant but you didn't know for sure whether Ricky or I was the father, I was suddenly torn apart. You see, if I stayed I would give myself to you and the baby heart and soul - but if it ever turned out that the baby was Ricky’s, it would destroy me. And that monster that I’ve been keeping at bay all these years would be unleashed. There’s no telling what would happen or who I’d become. Like Ricky, maybe, or worse,” I say in a low voice. Fiona’s still listening, and what’s more, she seems to understand. So I continue. “I couldn't risk that, and as a result, I stayed away. I figured you and the baby would be better off without me.”
Her eyes snap my way suddenly.
“But what if the baby is yours, Dylan?” Fiona accuses me. “There’s just as much chance! You’d be giving up on your child, never mind me.”
I nod in agreement.
“I know,” I rasp, grateful we’re finally having this conversation. “And I hear you loud and clear now. But back then, I wasn’t able to think straight. I was upset at how things were playing out, and completely confused and angry. That changed. And then, I wanted to go back to you, but I was tormented and afraid I was going to screw it all up.”
She takes a deep breath and looks me in the eye.
“So what’s changed?” comes her even tone. “What’s different now, Dylan?”
Luckily, I have an easy answer for this question.
“I haven’t stopped dreaming about you, Fiona. Every night,” I add emphatically. And to my enormous relief, she smiles a little, her lips trembling.
“I’ve been dreaming about you, too,” she admits in a soft voice. Encouraged, I reach forward and take her hand in mine, gazing up at her.
“When I woke up tonight, I knew something was up. Even though the baby is coming two weeks early, I had this instinct that this is where I needed to be. With you. Everything became so clear - I don't care whether I am the father or Ricky. I love you. And I will love that baby. I will look after both of you, until the day I die. If you’ll let me,” I say earnestly, looking into her eyes.
Her eyes mist over with emotion, but she doesn’t say anything, throwing me into a semi-panic.
“Please forgive me for being such an idiot, Fiona. I promise I’ll never leave your side again,” I rasp desperately. Before she can reply, there’s is a banging on the door, and Ricky’s voice comes floating through to us. He sounds angry. Something about there being no coffee in the hospital vending machine. That idiot. I exhale in frustration.
“We better let him in before he causes a scene,” I say, stepping over to the door and opening it. Ricky barrels in, furious.
“Enough of this bullshit! What the hell is going on? Fiona?” he demands of her. “By the way, the mud that they serve here is terrible,” he squeaks, one hand clutching a paper coffee cup.
“Look,” she says, exhausted. “I think you should go, Ricky.”
He looks indignant.
“That child could be mine! I have a right!”
I face him squarely.
“That might be the case, but it might not. We can take a paternity test.”
Ricky sneers.
“Don’t be an idiot, we’re identical twin. A paternity test would be useless.”
Here’s where I pull out the big guns.
“Actually,” I reply. “There’s a new technology that we could use to get a more accurate result. It just takes longer, so you need to stick around for a while instead of jaunting off to Europe,” I add, making his piercing blue eyes flash. “The question you need to ask yourself, Ricky,” I continue, “is whether you even want a child? Whether you can love that child? Whether you can love Fiona and give both of them the life they deserve? Or whether you’re trying to do this so you can have one up on me, after all these years?”
Ricky sneers again.
“Of course I can manage being a dad!” he squeals. But I can tell from the way his voice is trembling that he’s frightened by the prospect. “Of course I can!” he repeats again, eyes bulging. And then contrary to his words, my twin turns and runs out of the hospital room in a huff, making Fiona gasp.
I merely follow his departing form with my eyes, doing nothing.
“I think that’s the last we’ve seen of Ricky,” I say ruefully. “He’s always been a coward, and faced with the prospect of being a father, he turned and ran. As expected.”
But Fiona’s gasp had nothing to do with being shocked at the drama. One look at her and I know she’s in labor.
“Call a doctor,” she breathes in pain. “The baby’s coming!”
My heart pounds in my chest in excitement. Oh shit, is the moment really here? Am I about to become a father? Suddenly, I know that this is the best moment of my life … and I’m ready for it.