I open the door wider and wait for Titan to come inside. He had to find me through my Aunt Ida Sue. I may kill her. I know she has a crush on him—in that she wants him to be the new model at her sculpting class she’s taking at the Y—the nude model. Still, I wasn’t ready for Titan to know where I live. I wasn’t really prepared to see him just yet. I knew it was coming, but I was all for letting it lie for now. He walks in, and my house has high ceilings and large rooms, but instantly it feels smaller. I ignore that and lead him into the kitchen. If I’m going to have to talk to him, I’m going to need to do that with coffee in my system.

He sits at the bar, looking very uncomfortable, and I won’t lie, seeing him like that brings me pleasure.

“Do you want some coffee?” I ask him, giving him my back as I turn to the coffee pot and start putting in the pod and filling it with water.

“Should you be drinking coffee? I mean, you are pregnant. That can’t be healthy for the baby.”

“And that would be a no,” I grumble, ignoring him. I drink decaf and not a lot of that, but I’m not about to start explaining myself to him.

“I’ll take a cup,” he says quietly.

He’s silent after that and we face each other with the sound of the coffee percolating in the background. I lean against my kitchen cabinet, grateful there is a bar between us. He looks good, and I don’t want to admit that, but he does. He’s wearing jeans—which is something I’ve not really seen him in. Titan can make suits and dress slacks look really good. He however, makes a pair of Levis fill out so damn good that it hurts to see. He’s got on a dusty blue tee that is stretched across his broad muscles and looks soft and somehow sweet against his dark skin. Skin that I’ve touched, skin that I’ve missed…

I force my mind away from those thoughts.

“Not today, Satan,” I mutter as I turn around to take the cup of coffee that has brewed, and begin going through the motions to do another one. My single cup coffee maker was perfect just for me and I was kind of in love with it, but right now I’m cursing it. If I could get the coffee done and get Titan out of the door—quickly—I’d be over the moon with joy.

“What?” he asks, clearly confused. I don’t bother to repeat myself or deny what I said. Instead I hand him his cup.

“Do you want sugar? Milk? Creamer?”

“I’m fine,” he says, his voice tight.

“What are you doing here, Titan?”

“You’re pregnant with my child, Faith.”

“I was pregnant when I was in California. You didn’t want to talk then,” I remind him.

“I tried.”

“At the airport, when I was leaving. You had time to do it before that. Your silence spoke volumes and what it spoke was not good, Titan.”

“I needed time to process everything. You can’t just spring shit on me like that, and expect me to know what to say right off,” he argues.

Frustration is etched on his face and maybe I’m being unfair—in fact, I know I am, but I don’t care. I hate the words he uses when he talks about my child. I hate the expressions on his face when he looks at me or talks about our child. I hate all of it. Most of all I hate that I slept with this guy before I signed his damn annulment papers, and I did it thinking he was a good guy. And if I think on that, the thing I absolutely hate the most is that I thought he was a good guy, because that time in California where he didn’t talk to me, I began to realize maybe I was wrong. The time I’ve been back in Texas and him never reaching out and checking on me—all of that proved to me that I was wrong. So I don’t care that I’m not being fair. I don’t think I have to be.

“I didn’t unload shit on you. I told you I was pregnant. I didn’t ask for anything from you, Titan. I just thought you’d want to know.”

“I did, Faith. Shit, I just wasn’t… prepared.”

“You think I was?”

“I’m seeing you weren’t,” he says quietly, but his words don’t make me feel better—not at all.

“I wasn’t prepared. I was panicked, full blown panicked. But I came to you with my news. It wasn’t easy. It took a hell of a lot out of me to do it.”

“How long are you going to bust my balls over this? I was at my wedding to another woman. It was an agreement, but it was still a fucking huge wedding.”

“Yeah. You didn’t let any moss grow under your feet either.”

“Why in the hell are you acting like we had something when we didn’t? I didn’t keep Jacey, the deal or my plans from you, woman. I hunted you down because of those plans.”

“And then you found me. We may have not had anything before, but after that last night, we might have,” I growl back before I can stop myself.

“We had sex, it was really good sex, but I woke up alone. You were gone with those papers signed. That gave me the green light to go ahead with my plans. It might suck to hear it, but it was just sex, Faith. It didn’t tie my dick to you.”

His words lance through me, searing as they go. I blink and my breath catches, so destructive is that blow. He’s right—but he is also not right. So I let him have it. I’ve been storing it up for weeks, so I have it to give and I think he just earned it. So I give it to him straight.

“Maybe not until that point. We were nothing then, you’re right. But that night we weren’t drunk, Titan. We were both there in that moment, Big Daddy.”

“It was sex and—”

“And I didn’t hear you crying, ‘Oh no, get off my dick’,” I tell him, almost at the point where I’ve had it with him.

“I’m a man, not like—”

“That’s yet to be determined in my eyes.”

“I could remind you just how much of a man I am,” he answers and that makes me really done.

“Get out,” I growl.

“Faith—”

“Don’t Faith me. Get out. We had sex and I signed your papers. It could have been a new beginning for us. You knew where I was and we could have started over—took things slower. And that’s fine, I get that you weren’t interested in that. That happens and it sucks since I liked you, but like I said, that’s fine. But, what you don’t get to do is sit in my kitchen and tell me I’m overreacting, or that it’s my fault this all happened and I laid it at your feet. You don’t get to do that. So what you need to do is leave.”

“We need to talk,” he growls again, but he’s looking at me differently. Maybe he can tell how deep he cut me, or maybe he’s starting to get scared I’m two steps away from kicking him in the dick. Whatever it is, I don’t care. I just want him gone.

“You need to leave,” I virtually scream. I want him gone; I don’t want him breathing my air. I don’t want him around my baby’s air. Not right now, and maybe never—but definitely not right now.

“I can see you’re upset.”

“Gee—”

“So I’ll leave, but I’m not leaving Texas, Faith. I’m staying and you and I, we’re going to talk about this. We’re going to talk about it like two rational adults and we’re going to come up with a plan.”

“I have a plan. I’m raising my child.”

“Not without me, Faith. Not without me. I’m going to be a part of my child’s life. That means I’m going to be a part of your life.”

“Will you just leave?” I ask, my voice merely a whisper. I can’t deal with him right now. I just can’t.

“I’m going… for now.”

I don’t respond to his warning. I’m not even sure I breathe until he’s out the door. I stare at his coffee that he didn’t touch. I slide to the floor, staring at that coffee until the image of it dissolves into my tears.

Then… I let myself cry.