The Billionaire SEAL’s Secret Baby

“How can you not want to be here? It’s the biggest event of the year!” Pamela couldn’t understand why I was hesitating at the entrance to the party. “Do you know many people would pay to be in your shoes right now?”

We’d been best friends since high school, but she still didn’t seem to understand that this was one thing about me that wasn’t going to change.

“I’d pay to be out of these shoes.” Shifting, I remembered how miserable my feet felt. “I have no idea how women can walk around in these all day.”

“You are hopeless,” Pammy sighed.

She didn’t seem to understand how little these things meant to me. Wining and dining with the socially elite was not something I had ever wanted to do. I found it boring at best and torturous at worst. In fact, I tried to avoid these situations altogether.

But it seemed that wasn’t easy to do when you worked at one of the top newspapers in the city. Somehow I was stuck covering events for the society pages, so I was forced to spend time attending things I would have prefered to pretend didn’t exist.

“I think we’ve passed the point of fashionably late, Tanya.” Tugging at my arm, she took a step forward.

“Is there such thing as fashionably not showing up?” I huffed as I reluctantly followed her. 

“You wouldn’t want to look that good and stay home.” It was the third time Pam had commented on my appearance. “What if the man of your dreams is in there?” she giggled.

“The man of my dreams would be spending his money elsewhere,” I reminded her. “He wouldn’t be wasting money entertaining wealthy people. He’d be using it to help those who need it most.”

“Right.” The roll of her eyes told me she wasn’t taking me seriously. “This is amazing,” she added as we walked through the door.

I had to admit that, in terms of beauty, the event was top of the line. The color scheme was a simple black and white with crystal everywhere. The glasses, candleholders, and bowls twinkled in the light from the chandeliers -- also crystal.

That was part of the reason I hated these events. Enough money had been spent on this party to feed the homeless population of the entire city for months. It could have funded a youth program in the low-income parts of town. It could have provided housing for those without or been used to add to the shelters. Yet it was spent to impress those who already had enough money for five lifetimes.

“Your job is wasted on you,” Pam said, bringing me out of my thoughts.

“It’s not like I want to stay in this position,” I said, reminding her that my goal was eventually to work on important stories. Social, not society. “It’s a stepping stone.”

“You know,” she turned and looked at me, “this is a fundraiser. So it is being held for a purpose. Perhaps even one that would meet your criteria of worthiness.”

“I doubt that.” Shaking my head, I looked at my friend. “Skip the elegant party and use the money spent on all of this for the cause they are raising funds for. That would meet my criteria of worthiness.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” said a male voice behind us. Pam and I both turned our heads at the sound. “These things are a complete waste.”

I wanted to respond -- ask why he had chosen to attend if he felt that way -- but the words were stuck behind the lump in my throat. Throughout my life I’d heard and read stories of seeing someone and feeling butterflies and instant attraction. I’d thought it was just a way of appealing to women who wanted to believe in fairy tales and Prince Charming. I’d never actually felt it.

Until that moment, that is.

This man had literally taken my breath away. He had to be six foot three at least -- causing him to tower over my five-six frame. His hair was a dark blond -- well groomed and falling just above his eyes -- but appearing lighter against his bronze skin. Piercing blue eyes watched me as I tried to steady myself.

Unlike everyone else in the room, he had chosen to skip the formal attire. Instead he was wearing jeans and a form-fitting polo that did his hard, muscular body far more justice than a suit or tuxedo ever could have. For a brief moment I caught myself wondering what it’d feel like to run my hands along his wide chest.

Electric waves crashed through me as I tried to remind myself to breathe. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there looking dumbfounded and unable to talk, but it felt like it’d been hours.

“Tan,” Pamela’s voice echoed in my ear, sounding distant and almost impossible to make out. “You okay?”

I had to pull myself out of this before I looked like a complete jackass to everyone around us. Taking a deep breath and swallowing hard, I looked at my friend to steady my nerves.

“Of course.” The words sounded far more confident than I felt. “I was just about to ask if he felt that way then why pay money to be here?”

“I could ask the same,” he said, acknowledging the words I hadn’t even spoken directly to him, “since you are here and all.”

“I’m a reporter. This is an assignment. One that I wish was assigned to anyone else.”

“That bad, huh?” the stranger asked.

“Worse.” I’d finally found my voice. “I don’t understand why the rich feel the need to make everything a spectacle. Why can’t they just raise money and help people with an old-fashioned potluck or barbecue?”

If I’d found him attractive before, the genuine laugh he emitted would have sealed the deal. Something about this man was unnerving me, and I didn’t like that. My mind recalled Pam’s words outside.

What if the man of your dreams is inside?

“Expectation, Ms. Reporter,” he answered with a look of disappointment. “If this had been a barbecue, no one would have shown up. They expect lavish luxury in exchange for parting with their money. It makes them feel important and look good.”

“Helping people because they need help would make them look good,” I mumbled.

“Agreed.” He nodded. “I just try to focus on the cause at the heart of it and not the choices of those who attend.”

“I suppose,” I shrugged, and then turned and looked around.

“So, Ms Reporter,” he began.

“You can call me Tanya,” I corrected with a smile. If a man was going to make my insides come undone the least I could do was share my name.

“Okay,” he smiled, and I felt that flurry of excitement blended with longing again. “Tanya. Are you just here to cover the party?”

“That’s the goal,” I nodded, adding an eye roll for effect. “Hopefully to speak to the man behind it as well.”

“Going to harass him about his spending?” A small laugh followed his question.

“I doubt he’d care,” I shrugged. “Probably too busy planning the next way to show the world he’s rich and important.” Suddenly I remembered Pam standing there. “This is my friend Pamela,” I added as an afterthought.

Both of them shook hands, but she didn’t seem to be nearly as taken by him as I was. Instead she was watching me as I tried to hold myself together.

“Brant Wells,” I mumbled as I looked at the small notepad I’d hidden in the decorative purse. “Even his name sounds like an asshole.” That comment elicited another laugh. I knew that it was time for me to go further into the party and get what I needed to write the story so that I could leave. I just didn’t want to walk away from this man and the feelings he provoked.

Pam stood looking longingly at the guests, waiting patiently on her chance to join them.

“I guess we should go mingle,” I said, halfheartedly, and her eyes lit up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Brant Wells,” he grinned.

“Brant…you…I mean…you’re…”

“The asshole? In the flesh, sweetheart.” The room spun slightly with his laughter as the background music.

I had just insulted the wealthiest man on the eastern side of the United States and the one who was hosting the event I was covering for the paper. In that moment passing out would have been preferable to having to face what I’d just done.

 

*****

“You certainly have a unique way of securing an interview,” Brant laughed as we walked to a private room to talk.

Pam had migrated into the party and the last I’d seen her, she was enjoying it enough for both of us. Sometimes I wondered how she had been passed over for the society pages. Somehow she didn’t find the announcements section nearly as appealing. Births, weddings, and deaths. To me it sounded far better than socialite parties and the who’s who of the rich and famous.

“I like to be different,” I joked. Brant had fortunately taken me calling him an asshole lightly. In fact, he’d applauded me for honesty and granted the one-on-one that I’d requested. “I do feel bad, though. I didn’t mean…”

“No worries, Tanya,” he laughed again, shutting the door behind him. “With the exception of the asshole part, I wholeheartedly agree with everything you said. Off the record, of course.”

“Did you ever think that going on the record just might change the perception you speak of?” I was hopeful that someone would listen to me.

“It would be suicide. Calling the rich selfish and indulgent would defeat the purpose. Not only would they not change, they would withhold much-needed money. I’m a man who believes the end result is the important factor.”

“Is that on the record?”

“The last sentence,” he grinned. “Have a seat and tell me what you’d like to know.”

The goal in coming to the party was to cover the event for the paper. I would write the basics and it would go out with a glowing review of the party. Typical.

I’d hoped, however, that a personal interview with the man himself would impress my boss enough to consider me for another section. This inside scoop wasn’t a requirement, But that didn’t mean it wasn’t a bonus.

Spending an hour with the sexiest man I’d ever met and learning about him and his life was the best part of the entire evening.  His words seemed to flow like honey, and I found myself curious if that was what they meant when they spoke of silver-tongued devils.

There was much more to Brant Wells than money. In fact, money was fairly new to him. He told me stories of his time in the Navy SEALs. How close he’d been with the other men. He didn’t share much about his missions, just feelings that he still had about them.

Brant Wells had grown up poor. Actually he had grown up further into poverty than I’d been. I was surprised as he told how the Navy had given him a chance and a way out. They’d pay for college. They’d pay him. When he returned he’d have a future outside of the projects he’d grown up in. I personally had a hard time imagining the beautiful, well-groomed man in front of me having ever lived in that kind of environment.

Once in the Navy, they’d seen potential he didn’t know he had and he’d been trained to be a SEAL. He spoke of the bonds that had formed, and how he’d never have been the same person had he not experienced the things he did.

Apparently he’d saved the life of a fellow SEAL, earning him honors. When cancer had taken his friend only a few years later, Brant had learned that he had inherited everything the man left behind, which just so happened to have included a shit-ton of money.

“I didn’t have a damned clue that he was rich,” Brant shook his head. “Now that’s honor and devotion. You’ve got all you need in life and you still go join the service.”

I felt tears well in my own eyes as I saw his tears forming. This man wasn’t anything like I’d expected him to be. He wasn’t the self-absorbed person I’d assumed the rich were.

“This,” he waved his hand to signify the party. “It’s for him. All of it.”

“How so?” I didn’t understand totally how his friend and this elaborate party were related.

“He had a very rare type of cancer. One that is almost always fatal. It hits fast and hard. Once diagnosed, few see more than three or four more years at best. Some as little as six weeks. This is to raise funds for research. It’s important. “

“We’ve made great strides in cancer research,” I reminded him. “Things have improved drastically.”

“They have,” he agreed with the smile that melted my core. “The problem is that research is always focused on the key forms of cancer. ”

“I see.” He certainly knew a lot about his topic.

“I’m trying to fund research to treat and hopefully someday cure it. If that means I go all out and deck this place in crystal, so be it. As long as those people out there take notice and write checks.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just donate your money?” It was a question I’d always wanted to ask one of these rich fundraiser hosts. “I mean, you have enough.”

“It would be. Then it’d fall through the cracks again.  Political issues would take the forefront. Research postponed. How many people have to die before it’s taken seriously? I need more than money, I need attention and care. When the people start to care, the results begin to happen.”

You’ve really thought all this out, haven’t you?”

“I told you, Tanya,” he grinned, “it’s important to me.”

“I….it’s….maybe…”

My words were coming out staggered. The longer I spent in the room with this man, the harder it was to walk away. I needed to go. Breathing was difficult and the more he showed his true emotion, the stronger my desire became.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he laughed, causing my face to deepen in color.

“I…uh…thank you,” I managed to fumble enough to at least show appreciation for the compliment.

“I’d like to take you out,” he said as he stood and walked around the desk between us, planting his backside on the edge directly in front of me. “Get to know you better. I find myself strangely drawn to you, Tanya,” he finished softly.

“There you are!” An impatient voice filled the silence that hung in the air after his words. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. It’s about time for your speech.”

She was about my height, a good thirty pounds lighter, and looked like a porcelain doll. Perfect blonde curls touched her shoulders and the beautiful blue gown she wore matched the color of her eyes. She looked like the princess most girls dreamed of becoming.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, suddenly realizing I was in the room.

“Hadley, this is Tanya,” he smiled at me again. “She’s interviewing me and covering the party for the society page.”

“Oooh,” she almost squealed, turning towards me with bright eyes and excitement all over her face, “that’s so exciting.” Reaching out her hand, she waited patiently for me to take it in my own.

“Tanya,” Brant’s eyes showed an emotion I hadn’t seen since meeting him. Sorrow was what I believed it to be. “This is my wife, Hadley.”

*****

“Just when I thought he was a good guy.” It was Monday morning and I was still venting to Pam about my experience at the party. “He goes and does something like that.”

“What a pig,” she managed to say through a mouth stuffed full of ziti. “Just like a man.”

“He seemed….I don’t know…different,” I shrugged.

“Were you interviewing him for the paper or a date?”

“The paper!” Our lunch break was almost over and I’d have to go back to my desk and remember the reaction I’d had to the man, his spoken desire to take me out and then meeting his wife. The combination in such a short time had fucked with my head, leaving me curled under blankets on the couch eating ice cream all weekend. “I just didn’t think he was the type.”

“To cheat on his wife? Honey, it only takes one type,” Pam rolled her eyes and bit into her food again. “If he has a penis, he is likely to use it anywhere he’s allowed.”

“That’s not true,” I reminded her. “Not everyone cheats.”

“But everyone can,” she corrected. “No one is immune.”

“I guess,” the idea of a man so blatantly hitting on me just before his wife walked in made me uncomfortable. “I guess I’m old fashioned.”

“No,” she corrected, “but you are a reporter, and that means you leave your personal feelings out of it. You had an amazing story for the pages and it caught Jack’s attention. Leave it at that.”

“I know.” Even as I stood and cleaned up my lunch mess, I didn’t feel what I was saying. I knew that it’d be hard to leave it at that. Mostly because every inch of me remembered what that man had created inside. “It was a good story.”

“Yes, it was,” she smiled as I told her I was heading back to work. I had a new assignment to cover a big name engagement and I needed to research both parties. Not that researching socialites took a lot of work. They were generally all over the front pages. “Drinks tonight?” I asked her as I opened the door. “On me.”

Walking back to my desk I tried to focus on the new couple I was writing about and keep my mind away from Brant. Not an easy task when he called as soon as I’d sat down.

“I saw the article,” he commented as soon as he’d let me know it was him. “You did a great job.”

“It’s what I do,” I answered curtly, not ready to really talk to him.

“Tanya, I want to…”

“Save it,” I stopped him. “Not my business.”

“Look, can we meet for drinks tonight?” he asked, my heart skipping a beat at the idea before my brain kicked in and reminded me he was married. “As friends. Not a date,” he corrected.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” Speaking words I didn’t mean, I kept my voice steady. “Hadley would probably prefer you come home.”

“Please?” he asked again. “Give me a chance to explain.”

“It’s not my business, Brant,” I reminded him once more.

“I like you,” he told me. “I enjoyed talking to you. I’d like to at least be friends.”

I wanted to go. Even knowing I felt wrong about it, I still wanted it. It didn’t have to be a bad thing. He’d said “friends.” I could do friends and still feel good about myself, right? Even if I was imagining all the things I’d like to do to my new friend?

“Okay,” I agreed. “Once. Where and when?”

Jotting down the place and time, I made a mental note to ask for a rain check with Pam. I wasn’t sure just how to do that without telling her, but I couldn’t just stand her up.

*****

“How do I look?” I asked, and Pam nodded her approval, refusing to speak. “Okay, spill it.”

“Spill what?” she asked, grabbing a piece of candy from the dish on my dresser and focusing on the wrapper rather than me.

“Whatever it is that you aren’t saying,” I told her, sitting down on the edge of my bed in the hopes that she’d confess. “I know there is something and it’s going to come out eventually.”

“Nothing really,” she began. “I just worry about you.”

“Why?” The question didn’t really need an answer. I already knew.

“This,” she waved her hand. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with him, Tanya. I’m not sure it’s a good thing.”

“We are friends,” I reminded her, hoping she’d drop it. I wouldn’t be so lucky.

“He’s married.” The reminder was like a knife in the gut.

“Married men can have friends. We happen to have a lot in common,” I argued. It was true.

“You don’t worry about how you look for dinner with a buddy, especially a married one.”

“It’s not a happy marriage,” I parroted back a part of what he’d told me.

“Then he should leave.”

“It’s complicated,” I said, reminding myself more than her.

“Is that how his wife would feel?”

“There’s nothing going on, Pam. We are having dinner. Talking. Nothing more.”

“Perhaps,” she agreed, somewhat reluctantly. “But intimacy is more than sex. How would she view what you are doing? Does she know?”

Pam was right and I knew it. Brant needed to tend to things at home, not avoid them. I also knew that I was right. We weren’t crossing lines, at least none that I could recall. Yes, there was attraction. Neither of us had acted on it. We’d just developed a friendship and left it at that.

It was something my best friend would never really understand. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if I did. What I did know was that, whatever it was, I needed it. It was important to me.

“It’s just friendship. Stop worrying.” I smiled and grabbed my keys. “I’m off. I’ll tell you about it later.”

I didn’t really give her time to ask any more questions or convince me that I was doing a bad thing. I didn’t want to think of that side of things. I enjoyed his friendship. I loved his company. I wasn’t going to tell myself the long list of reasons that I shouldn’t have both.

Grabbing a cab to the restaurant, I pushed any negativity out of my head. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, and I wasn’t going to believe I was. It was friendship. Something we both needed.

“You look beautiful.” Brant stood as I walked up to the table. Quickly, he ordered a bottle of wine and stepped around to push my chair in. “How has your day been?”

“Well, the life of a society pages reporter is grueling, but I survived.” A quick smile from Brant let me know he appreciated my humor.

“You look troubled,” he commented, waiting for me to explain. I wasn’t sure if I could.

On our first night of drinks, Brant had apologized for everything that’d happened at the party. He’d confessed that he felt drawn to me. He told me he was attracted to me. That all of it had been honest.

I had asked him about Hadley and why he’d failed to mention her. That was when his head had dropped and he’d told me his story, the one that Pam considered a shitty excuse.

Hadley was the girl from high school who’d never noticed him. He was poor. He was nobody. She was top of the food chain. He explained that he hadn’t really stayed hung up on her. He’d joined the military and had plenty of experiences with women. It was nothing that stayed in the back of his mind like this great big “what if.”

Then he’d come home. He’d gotten the inheritance and life was different. He had money. He had anything he could want. But he spent his time reliving those experiences. Readjusting to the normal world was hard.

He’d found himself in counseling and trying to deal with the trauma he’d seen and been through. At the same time, he was attempting to get himself off the ground with the company he’d started and working on making some type of normal life.

The press had been all over him. They still were. So trying to date or even just hook up was damned near impossible.

Hadley had shown up at some big gala his company hosted. It was the first time he’d seen her since high school. She was still beautiful. She’d come to him and they’d spent the evening talking.

He’d learned that she was more than her appearance. She was very intelligent and seemed interested in all of the same things. He was lonely and struggling. The relationship just moved quickly from there.

It wasn’t until a year or so into their marriage that he discovered that many of those interests she had shown were not real. She didn’t care about the same things. She cared about basically what I spent my time writing about. Society nonsense.

He’d brought up divorce several times, but never had the heart to go through with it. Hadley’s reputation meant everything to her. She didn’t want to be divorced at a young age and viewed as undesirable.

As he told me, he was a man of morals and principles. He’d been the one to make the decision and he was going to live with what that meant.

“Not once have I ever thought about straying from my obligations,” he had told me as we sipped on cocktails that night. “Until you.”

Yes, it sounded bad. It was almost like every excuse you hear from married men who cheat. You are special. You are different. I’m unhappy at home. Yet somehow, I still believed him.

We’d agreed to keep it on a friend level. We’d agreed not to explore the attraction we both felt. And we had stuck to that. The problem was that the more time we spent together, the more I realized how much I cared. The physical attraction had turned to emotional, and I was beginning to think Pam was right.

“Tanya,” he brought me back out of my thoughts. “Is everything okay?”

“Does Hadley know we do this?” The question popped out before I could filter and block it. Guess my mind really needed the answer.

*****

“So much for that promise,” I laughed, rolling over and looking at Brant.

As I’d expected, he’d answered my question with a no. It had led into a conversation about why, provoking confessions I didn’t quite expect.

He didn’t want her to know because deep inside he knew it wasn’t as innocent as he would tell her it was. His heart was involved. He may not have acted on it, but he wanted it to be so much more than friendship. Hadley would want it to stop and he wasn’t quite sure he could give her that. So he avoided it.

Pam would have been disappointed in me. Not because I stayed, but because I was happy that he felt that way. I didn’t want to lose it either. Mostly I was grateful that he was honest with me even when he knew it could ruin everything. He still told me the truth.

So I didn’t leave. Instead we enjoyed dinner, discussed an organization he planned to start and had a few too many drinks. Those drinks led us to the dance floor, only bringing our bodies closer than we’d expected. After a short time, our feelings took control and before I realized what was happening he was opening the door to a hotel room and we were walking inside together.

“I’m sorry.” His face showed remorse, but his eyes did not. My mom always told me the best way to know the truth about a man was to look into his eyes. She was right. “This wasn’t very good of me.”

“I’m pretty sure I was here, too,” I reminded him, snuggling my head against his shoulder. “It sure as hell felt like I was here.”

“So what do we do now?”

“Prepare,” I laughed. “I’m pretty sure we are going to hell after this.”

“I’d rather be in hell with you, than in heaven with anyone else,” he whispered as he kissed the top of my head.

“Do they teach you those cheesy lines in the military, or was that a Brant Wells original?”

“It’s honest,” he spoke. “Tanya, I don’t know what to do about any of this. I am not this man. But what I feel for you…I can’t just pretend it isn’t there.”

“I guess we just take it day to day, see what happens.”

“You deserve better than this,” he mumbled, sitting up and looking down at his hands. “She deserves better than this.”

“You will sort it out, Brant.” Wrapping an arm around him, I leaned in closer. “Don’t worry about me. I made my decisions. I will live with them.”

“We should probably say we aren’t going to see each other anymore.”

“Probably.”

“We should agree that this will never happen again,” he continued.

“Yes, we should.”

“We should get dressed and leave and chalk it up to a lot of drinking and a bad decision.”

“That’s exactly what we should do.”

He looked over at me, sadness filling his face.

“I can’t do that, Tanya,” he confessed. “I can’t stop seeing you. I want it to happen again. I don’t think it was a bad decision.”

“I know,” I nodded. Standing up, I looked for the clothes I’d thrown around the room in the heat of passion. “I can’t either.”

“I think I love you.” His words caught me off guard. “I think I love you and I think I can’t stop loving you.”

“Then how about we stop worrying about what we should do,” I suggested. The completely wrong thing. “Let’s just take it one day at a time and let it sort itself out.”

“It’s wrong,” he argued.

“Well, we’ve already been wrong once….actually twice, but who’s counting,” I laughed. “You know what they say…go big or go home.”

“Speaking of home,” he stood, allowing me a moment to admire his body in the daylight. God, he was sexy. “I really should…”

“I know, Brant,” I nodded. “We need to go.”

The cab ride home was too silent. The driver didn’t speak. There was no music. Just me, lost in thought. Not always a good thing.

I told myself that I’d be fine. This was going to be okay. I hadn’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t wrong to love someone -- to want someone.

I found out quickly I was easier to convince than Pam.

“Well, she decides to come in at ten in the morning,” her stern voice showed me that she was worried, likely about more than my late arrival and safety.

“What are you still doing here?” I laughed. “That bored at home?”

“That worried,” she corrected.

“Nothing to worry about, Pammy,” I walked to the coffee pot and found she’d already brewed some. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“I figured you’d need it.”

“Definitely,” I answered.

“Want to go back to our conversation now? Tell me how you aren’t doing anything? It’s just friendship? No lines are being crossed? Because I call bullshit. Unless you left the married guy at the restaurant and spent your night with a complete stranger.”

“Pam, this isn’t…”

“What it looks like?” she interrupted. “You were gone all night. You are coming home in the same clothes. You look…happy. I’d say it’s probably what it looks like.”

“I was going to say ‘your business.’” I turned angrily. “It is my choice how to live my life. You are my friend, not my conscience.”

“I see.” She grabbed her things. “Then I’ll just go and let you live with your decisions. No need for me to worry about you, right? You got this.”

Walking out, she slammed the door behind her. In that moment I knew that everything in my world was about to change. I just wasn’t sure how much.

*****

“How does this happen?” I cried, not quite sure what the hell I was going to do.

“Well, when two people…”

“Pam, stop! This isn’t a joke.”

“You asked,” she laughed. “What do you mean ‘how’?”

“We were careful. We didn’t….I mean we always…how the hell can this be? Maybe it’s wrong. I bet that’s it. I got a faulty test. It isn’t right. I’ll go to the store now and…” I was grabbing my keys when Pam reached and held my arm.

“Tanya,” she spoke softly, “calm down. It’s going to be okay.”

“Okay?” I looked at her. “I’m pregnant! How is that okay?”

“Many women do it every day,” she offered, her idea of support. “You have a good job. A nice home. A supportive family. And if I do say so myself, a spectacular best friend. You will be fine. The baby will be fine. You will be a good mother.”

Sinking in to the couch, I began to cry.

“Until it realizes its father is a married man,” I moaned.

“At least you love the father,” she tried to cheer me up. “That’s more than most can say anymore.”

“That doesn’t help,” I reminded her.

“Maybe he will be happy?” she offered. “You said he’s miserable in his marriage. He loves you. Maybe this will make him happy.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Pam? You think I’m going to tell him?”

“Why would you not tell him?” Her shock surprised me.

How could she think I would tell him? He was married. He had a life. He was in the news almost daily. An illegitimate baby was not going to be beneficial to his life. Come to think of it, this was not going to be particularly beneficial to mine either. I could see the reputation-ruining headline now: 

Society Reporter Knocked Up By Married Man She Interviews

 

“He’s married. He’s well known. Practically a celebrity around here. It’d ruin him,” I told her as if it were obvious.

“I didn’t say put it in the paper,” she snapped. “He’s the father. He has a right to know.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” I told her. “It was an accident.”

“He will understand that,” she tried to convince me. “He’s intelligent.”

“No. This was my stupidity. I will deal with it.”

“Deal with it?”

“I don’t know Pam. Okay? I don’t know what I will do. I am not sure how I will handle any of this. I just fucking found out. Give me some time.”

“Okay.” She grabbed her things. “Take some time. But remember that it is not that baby’s fault what you guys chose to do. It deserves to know its father.”

Listening to the door slam, I realized Pam had left angry a lot in recent times. My fault. She was watching me fuck my entire life up and had I listened to her I wouldn’t be in this situation. I made a mental note to be a better friend, and then I curled my knees up to my chin and completely broke down.

My mother would be ashamed of me. Unmarried and pregnant was bad enough. The father being a married man would crush her. I could hear her words as I cried.

“I raised you better than that! How could you be messin’ with what ain’t yours?”

I wouldn’t have words. It’s not like I didn’t know what I was doing. I knew he was married. I chose to continue. I pushed the boundaries. I went in that room with him. I continued the affair for what had been a few months. I made those choices knowing there was a wife at home who knew nothing.

*****

The phone ringing drowned out the sound of the movie, a minor annoyance in what had become a very frustrating life.

Pam and I were decked out in pajamas and having an old-fashioned slumber party. We had thought it’d be fun. More specifically, she was afraid I was going to go off the deep end if she weren’t up my ass constantly.

Five months along and I was an ornery bitch, but I wasn’t suicidal or crazy. Overall, I’d made the most of it. I hadn’t even cried much in recent days.

“Him?” she asked, knowing I’d know what she meant. I just nodded and continued to avoid the phone. “Gonna answer?” A quick glance at her shut her up.

Brant wasn’t taking things very well. Of course he didn’t know the important parts. I’d decided against Pam’s wishes to never tell him. It had been hard, .

I’d been very lucky to spend so long without showing. The doctors claimed it was good health that kept the weight off. The baby, I’d found out it was a girl, was doing just fine.

Not having a baby bump had allowed me to continue life as normal and not tell anyone. Even my job didn’t know. So I’d also never told Brant, and he’d never noticed, even as much time as we spent undressed.

Then it’d happened. I’d seen the small pooch of my tummy and I’d known. Life was about to change. I was going to have to do something.

Work was easy. I’d claimed some personal problems and worked out an arrangement to do my job from home. No one would ever know the difference.

Avoiding friends and family was going to be more difficult. I was accustomed to Sunday dinners and holidays. No one would understand why I just quit attending. At the same time, momma would know that I was pregnant. She knew everything, especially those things I didn’t want her to know.

By far though, the hardest had been Brant. When I’d called and told him I thought we should stop, he didn’t take it very well. The SEAL in him showed first. Anger. Yelling. Accusing me of a variety of misdoings. .

Once he calmed, he tried to negotiate. I shared my excuses: it was not a good thing, and he needed to try and fix his marriage. I didn’t buy them, so I wasn’t surprised he didn’t. That’s when he decided he just wasn’t going to allow it.

“No, just no,” he’d told me. I loved that about him. His persistence.

But I knew I had to let go, so I’d just quit answering. I didn’t respond to texts. I didn’t keep flowers and gifts he sent. I didn’t answer the door. I just quit.

Unfortunately, he was more stubborn than I’d thought. He called and texted daily. Begging. Pleading. Swearing vows of love. I ignored them, and then cried.

“One day he’s going to stop,” Pam pointed out.

“Good,” I answered.

“That’s what you want?” she asked. “You have a man who loves you enough to put that much effort in -- the father of your baby -- and you want him to give up?”

“He has a wife,” I reminded her.

“You knew that,” she spoke. “You didn’t care then.”

“I care now,” I added. “They don’t even have a baby. Maybe he never wanted kids?”

“Maybe he never wanted the wife?” she added.

“Look how the tables have turned,” I said, incredulous. Looking at her, I waited on her explanation.

“That ship sailed,” she shook her head. “You made that decision. Now you are here with a baby on the way and a father that wants you. Don’t change your direction now!”

“I have made my decision,” I said, and dropped it.

Twenty minutes later, the phone began to ring again. I watched Pam as she looked at it, hopeful I’d answer. Just as I was thinking that she wasn’t going to give up, I watched her hand reach out and grab it.

“What are you…”

“Hello?” she answered before I could finish. “No. This is Pam. We met at the party, remember?”

I listened to her laugh as my heart began to pound. How could a friend do this?

“Well, she’s kind of stubborn, Brant,” she laughed again. “But I think you guys really need to talk. There are some things you aren’t aware of.”

“Pam,” I hissed, begging her to stop.

“We are here now. Just having a girl’s night. Why don’t you come over?” she smiled at me. “Sounds great. See you in a few.”

As she pushed the button I felt my pulse rise to what had to be dangerous levels. He was coming to my house. Face to face. I was sitting here stuffing food in my face while wearing pajamas and obviously pregnant.

“It doesn’t show that much,” Pam told me, knowing what I was thinking.

“It shows,” I said. “He’s seen every inch of my body. It shows.”

“Well, get ready then. He was just down the street.”

“I hate you,” I told my friend.

Running to the mirror in the hallway, I did a quick of check of myself. Fortunately my hair was done and looked nice. The lack of makeup wasn’t unusual. I often went natural as I didn’t want to ruin my smooth caramel complexion. There was a glow on my face that would be new to him. Otherwise, for a pregnant woman who’d spent three hours munching, I looked okay.

She was right. The bump wasn’t big. But it was noticeable.

“I’m going to run out and grab a pizza,” I heard Pam say. “She’s down the hall and will be out soon.”

“Thank you,” Brant spoke softly and earnestly.

Taking a deep breath I knew I had to face this. There was no getting out of it now. Damn Pam and her stubbornness.

“Brant,” I said, barely audible, as I walked into the room.

The electricity shot through me all over again as he turned and focused his blue eyes on my face, his own turning up into a smile.

“Tanya,” he whispered, “you look…”

I saw the realization hit his face as he scanned my pajama-clad body. His face contorted and I could no longer tell what he felt. His eyes lit up for a moment and then darkened. I stood frozen, curious and scared at what he would say.

“Pregnant.” The word came out as air -- almost indiscernible. “Oh my God,” he continued. “You are pregnant.”

*****

I hated life. I really did.

Every day I woke up more pregnant, fatter, and more miserable than the day before. I was at about six and a half months and the doctors said that everything was going great. Tell that to my aching back, sore feet and inability to sleep more than an hour.

It didn’t help that my life was in turmoil.

The conversation with Brant hadn’t been anything that I’d expected. He had been angry, royally pissed off that I’d kept it from him, unable to believe I’d think he didn’t deserve to know his own child.

He spent most of the time he’d been there telling me how he thought I was different than that. He thought I knew how he felt.

It had almost killed me to watch him leave still angry. All he’d told me was he needed to sort some things out in his life. Of course he did. I’d just turned it upside down.

Our relationship had changed. We still saw each other. Still communicated. But he hadn’t touched me or anything else since he’d found out.

I attributed it to the fact that I was beginning to look like a damned beached whale. He swore it was because he was confused and still hurt by me shutting him out. I was pretty sure I was right.

We were still very close, but time was dwindling. In less than three months he’d have a little girl, one he kept saying he wanted to be a part of his life. He was going to have to tell someone. Do something.

That left me unsure and waiting. I still loved him. I still hadn’t told my family. I was claiming work and sickness. Soon I’d have to tell them. Soon I’d have to deal with the fallout.

I spent most of my time trying to figure out how to do just that. The rest I spent worrying I’d lost Brant forever.

I was glad when my phone rang and I was able to take my mind off of my thoughts for a while. Then I realized it was him, and I worried about whether it’d be the day he was going to drop the bomb that he was done.

“I’m coming by,” he said quickly, without waiting to be told no. “I need to talk to you.”

With that, he hung up. No chance for me to argue or change his mind.

I quickly scrambled around to pick up the mess that had accrued because I was lazy. I didn’t want to have to explain how very tired I was. My body didn’t seem to be cut out to carry a child.

The knock at the door made my heart race, and a giant lump formed in my throat.

“You look good,” he commented with a kiss on the cheek. It was more affection than I’d gotten in a long time.

“You seem to be uncharacteristically happy,” I noted, moving to let him inside.

“I am,” he smiled. “I’m getting divorced.”

“What? You are?” I couldn’t contain my excitement. “You asked for…”

“No,” he shook his head. “I was discussing it with my attorney. How to do it without the spectacle, you know?”

“Right,” I waited.

“Well, apparently Hadley was unhappy with me investing so much of our money into the organization I’m starting. She wanted a return for the money and I just wanted to help people. We’ve been arguing about it for some time now. Today she served me with papers,” he laughed. “Ironic, huh?”

“So, you are getting divorced over money?” I asked, not understanding how this had happened.

“Yes,” he laughed. “Rich people, right?”

“She doesn’t know about me? Or the baby?” I felt myself disappointed that I hadn’t been the reason he’d ended his marriage.

“She does now. I told her. We had a long talk about our differences and the fact that I still cared for her, but not love like that. She agreed. Neither of us wants this splashed on the front page, so we came to a pretty good agreement.”

“Financial?”

“For the most part. We are parting as friends. Claiming irreconcilable differences. We want different things. She’s interested in some Brit she knows. We figure if we go public at the same time with the same story, no one will really have anything to say.”

“Wow.” I couldn’t believe all that I was hearing.

“It’s going to be odd though,” he continued, “jumping back in so fast. That might make the news.”

“What? Jumping in?”

“Marriage. I mean assuming that you want to? I’ve never asked if your goal was marriage someday. Or kids for that matter. It’s one thing we’ve never really talked about. I mean, I know how you feel about homelessness and child abuse, but not what you want for forever. But if you….”

“Brant,” I put my hand over his mouth. “Shush. What are you trying to ask?”

“Tanya,” he looked at me. “I love you. I want you and this baby. I want us. Will you marry me?”

“How does your wife feel about that?” I laughed.

“She’s happy as long as she gets her money and doesn’t have to watch me frivolously throw it away on people who ‘don’t deserve it.’”

The statement made us both laugh.

“So,” he asked again, “will you be my wife? Will you marry me?”

I couldn’t think of anything I’d like more than to be with him forever. The idea terrified me. A family. A husband. Responsibility.

“I’d rather be in hell with you than heaven with anyone else,” I repeated one of his cheesiest lines just before he leaned down and kissed me. “yes, Brant. Yes, I will marry you.”

 

*****

THE END