Mine to Promise (Southern Wedding #6)

I look at Addison, who smiles at the server. “I’ll have a water.” She then turns to me.

“I’ll have the same,” I tell the server, although I think I need a shot of whiskey or something. But the last thing I want her to think is that I drink regularly.

“I’ll be right back,” the server says when she turns around and walks away. Returning right away with two glasses of water.

“So I guess you have questions,” Addison begins, looking at me.

“I do,” I answer her and see that she takes a deep inhale.

“Okay, then let’s start at question number one,” she urges me.

“When is her birthday?” It’s the first thing I thought about when I met her. That and then all the birthdays I’ve missed with her.

“September twentieth,” she replies softly. “She was born at twenty-nine weeks.” I can’t help but gasp at that information.

“Is she okay?” I ask, which might seem like a silly question considering I’ve met her and she’s perfect.

“She is now,” she reassures me with a smile. “It was rough at the beginning. She was born at two pounds one ounce.” My heart beats so fast in my chest, you would think I’m in the middle of a cardio workout instead of sitting down having a discussion. “She was in the NICU for over a month.” My head spins at this information. I never expected it was such a hard start for her at the beginning.

“She’s up to normal height and weight as of her last visit.”

“She looks perfect,” I finally say, and she nods, agreeing with me. “When did you find out you were pregnant?”

“About six weeks after. I was in the middle of finals, and I wasn’t really sure until I ate pizza and then threw up all over my bed. I was also exhausted, more so than regularly. I fell asleep once sitting in a chair.” She laughs, her hand holding her glass of water. She spins the glass around and around. I know she’s nervous, and I know she’s doing anything she can to move her hands. I want to lean over and grab her hand and tell her that it’s okay. But instead, I sit in front of her and listen to her tell me the story. “Then I went out and bought a test and when that one came back, I thought it was defective.”

She taps the table with her finger. “So I went to the doctor and turns out it wasn’t defective and I was, in fact, with child.”

“How was your pregnancy?” I think of the questions I wrote down in my notes on my iPad last night once I got to Matty’s. All the questions I wrote down are now forgotten, so I’m going by the seat of my pants now.

“It went well. I was tired until the second trimester. I craved peanut butter and Nutella day and night.” Something inside me sinks as I think of her doing it all on her own. The guilt of not being there is even stronger today as I listen to what she went through without me.

“What have you told her about me?” This is the question I wanted to wait until the end to ask, but with the way my head is spinning, everything is coming out in a different order. To be honest, it was the only question I now want an answer for. I don’t care about anything else except for this one.

“I told her you went to work,” she answers, and I laugh.

“For four years?” I joke with her, and she smirks. The nerves I’ve had in my body slowly leave me. Sitting with her, I find the calmness of it. It’s crazy that I didn’t have anything on my agenda two days ago. My whole life was just work, and now it’s shifted.

“I mean, she’s four, so she really doesn’t get the whole time thing. I know, once she gets old enough to understand, I’ll have to come up with something else.”

I nod at her as the server comes over. “Have we had a chance to look at the menu?” she asks, ready to take our order.

“I’ll have kale salad,” Addison orders, and the server looks at me.

“I’ll have the same,” I answer, and she nods and walks away.

“You eat kale?” she asks me as she grabs her glass of water.

“No, I hate it.” Her mouth just hangs open. “It was easier than looking at the menu.

“Is there a father figure in her life?” I ask the question, and the whole time my stomach sinks just thinking about it.

“There is none,” she confirms, sitting back. “It’s just me and her.” I don’t know why I feel a sense of relief from that statement. It makes me feel even more like a selfish asshole.

I nod my head. “I want to meet her and get to know her,” I finally say, not even sure of any other questions I have, but this is the most important one.

“Of course,” she says without thinking about it. “It was never my intention to keep her from you.”

She looks down at her hands and then looks back up at me. “It was the first one-night stand I ever had,” she admits, her voice going low as she looks around to see if anyone is listening to us, or even close enough to hear the conversation. “You were leaving the next day, and I just figured it would be less awkward than you waking up and asking me to leave.” She shrugs.

“I wouldn’t have asked you to leave.” I stare into her eyes.

“What would you have done?” She asks me the loaded question.

“I have no idea,” I tell her honestly. “Who knows? I would have at least gotten your number.”

“That would have saved us a whole bunch of problems.” She smiles sadly, and I know there is more to that statement than meets the eye. The server comes back with two bowls, placing one in front of Addison and another one in front of me. I look down at the bowl of green, and she must see the grimace on my face because she laughs out loud. It takes me back to the night in the restaurant, right before I asked her to come back to my place.

“Thank you,” Addison tells the server before she walks away from the table. “It’s good, try it.”

“I know what kale tastes like. It’s an acquired taste, and I have not acquired it,” I admit to her as she grabs her fork and starts eating.

“How did your parents deal with you having the baby?” I ask her, and she avoids even looking up.

“They weren’t fans of my decision,” she says, “but it was never a decision in my head.”

“I guess they’ve changed their minds now.” I pick up the fork and play with the kale in the bowl.

“I guess so,” she replies before taking a bite of her kale.

“Well, you’ve met my family.” I chuckle.

“I have.” She smirks and tucks her hair behind her ear. “All four hundred of them.”

“I need to tell them.” I try the kale, and just like all the other times, it’s as gross as it always was.

“This is… I can’t,” I say, pushing the plate away from me.

“Oh my,” she exhales.

“Oh my for the kale, or oh my for me having to tell my family?” I grab the glass of water as I force down the kale.

“A bit of both.” She laughs, and her eyes light up a bit.

“Well, my father knows,” I tell her, and her fork falls out of her hand with a clang. “He put two and two together when he saw me talking to her.”

She puts her hand on her head. “Does he hate me?” Her voice goes so low, if I wasn’t sitting in front of her, I wouldn’t have heard her.

“No.” I shake my head, my voice coming out tight. “He doesn’t hate you. Me, on the other hand, he was ready to kick my ass for leaving you.”

“Did you tell him that I didn’t tell you? Well, even if I wanted to tell you, do you know how many Stefanos there are in the world?” I just stare at her. “Twenty-four million hits from Google.”

“You searched just my first name?” I ask her, trying not to laugh.

“That’s all I had. I tried to think of other things but well…” She looks down. “I didn’t really remember them, and it was six weeks after, so…” She shrugs.

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