Page 18 of One Little Mistake
“You the baby daddy?”
“You could say that,” I mutter, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“I’ll call her.”
A few minutes later, I’m escorted into the same office. But this time, I’m not in shock—I can actually think straight and take in what’s being said.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Taylor,” the woman says with a smile. I try to remember her name—it’s on the tip of my tongue, but my memory betrays me. “Please, take a seat.”
She opens a thick notebook filled with scribbles, scans it, mutters something under her breath, and jots down a few notes.
“I sent your wife’s medical history to a specialist in another city. There’s a good chance she’ll recover.” She pauses. Long pause. Presses her lips together—that classic warning sign before someone drops bad news. “Erin has been transferred to a different department. They have everything she needs there. I’ll give you the contact info for her new doctor.”
“Wait,” I say, thrown off, “That must be a mistake. You told me yesterday she was getting discharged today.”
“The baby is being discharged. Erin…” She exhales. “I won’t beat around the bush. The truth is, two days ago, her condition worsened. The baby’s been here for eight days now—he’s perfectly healthy, no issues, the staff is caring for him. But what if this goes on for months? No one can predict when she’ll wake up. Could be a week. Could be a month. It’s different for everyone. I think your son would be better off at home, surrounded by a loving family. And I’m sure you’re eager to see him.”
She’s nervous. And I start getting the sense that something’s off here. I remember Erin mentioning she wasn’t supposed to have a natural birth. Most likely, this woman is scared I’ll go public with what happened—because no matter how you spin it, it smells like medical negligence.
“So what exactly is going on with my... wife?” I clear my throat, still tripping over that word. “Can someone explain it to me clearly?”
The woman’s eyes widen. She looks away and starts tapping her pen against the desk.
“I think that’s a question best answered by her attending physician. My job is to deliver babies,” she says with a nervous chuckle.
“Right. Then I’ll go.”
“Wait—I asked them to bring your little one here,” she says, standing up with a too-bright smile.
“What? Why?” I snap a little harsher than I intended. This whole situation is getting under my skin. Maybe it’s time to find this girl’s relatives. Let them worry about her.
“What do you mean, why? He’s your son,” she says, squinting at me. And that’s when I realize I should’ve corrected her back when I had the chance. Letting her believe Erin and I were a couple—and that the baby is mine—was a huge mistake.
What the hell am I supposed to do with a kid? Especially one that isn’t even mine?
CHAPTER 8
Max
I frown. Well, guess I should’ve cleared everything up from the very beginning, so we wouldn’t be having surprises like this now. But I wanted to avoid a long-winded explanation so badly, I just went along with the doctor’s assumptions last time, hoping it’d be the last I’d see of them.
I never imagined they’d actually try to hand me someone else’s baby.
I shut my eyes and exhale sharply, trying to stay calm and not say anything I’ll regret. This whole situation is, to put it mildly, spiraling out of control.
“Look,” I start, “there’s been a mistake. That baby’s not mine. And since Erin still hasn’t regained consciousness, he should stay here with you for now.”
After that, I’m hoping to walk out of this maternity ward and never come back. I don’t even care anymore how this stranger ended up living in my apartment. I just want peace. A few weeks of silence, at least. The ocean’s still flashing behind my eyelids, the engine’s hum echoing in my ears, and I haven’t slept properly in months. My body’s stuck on night shift mode after six months at sea.
“Mmm-hmm. Got it,” the department head drawls, pulling off her thin-framed glasses, pushing aside a worn-out patient log, and fixing me with a sharp look. “You know how many men like you I’ve seen in my years here?”
I arch an eyebrow. This should be interesting.
“They give birth and then just abandon their babies. I mean, I can understand it from single mothers with barely a pennyto their name—but you, Mr. Taylor? It’s obvious you’re not struggling financially. You could easily provide for a child.”
Her eyes sweep over the thick gold bracelet on my wrist, the expensive watch, the car key with a logo that makes it obvious what kind of ride I drive.
“I understand it’s a shock. I understand things might not be great between you and the child’s mother, and maybe you have no idea how to care for a newborn. But there are relatives, there are nannies. Your wife risked her life to bring this child into the world, and now you just want to walk away?”
