18. Jack

18

JACK

Camilla leans onto the table and rubs the center of her forehead. She has a headache. Or is about to get one. Tension headaches have been increasingly frequent as we've been running into more snags with Keiki.

"Don't put me on hold," she says into the phone, her voice raw from all the talking she's been doing. "I've been put on hold five times already and I–"

She drops the phone onto the table.

I wait for her to say something, but she remains silent. "What happened?"

"They put me on hold," she grunts.

I sigh and reach for her phone. "We can pick this up tomorrow."

She rubs her hands over her eyes. "No, I'll just have to do it all over again. I'll wait."

My hand stills in the air.

It's been getting harder and harder to work together because of how my body reacts to her. I don't mean only because I'm beyond attracted to her and have had her so many times in so many different positions.

No, it's also the feeling growing in my chest. The one that wants to pull her so close to me that it would be heart shattering to let her go.

But be willing to shatter your heart is a huge thing.

Still, we work together here at our temporary office space everyday with the Keiki team, keeping up our professional front as business partners. Camilla is better at resisting than I am. Sometimes, it's like she's turned that part of her brain off.

Which makes me wonder if that's what this arrangement is to her. Something to be turned on and off that works when it suits us.

Nothing more.

"We should call it a night. You need to rest," I say, the Daddy in me coming out.

Camilla doesn't respond. Doesn't look at me.

I get up and go next to her, crouching at her side. "Camilla, honey."

We're the only ones here. No one can hear me. No one would see us. The only person who has had a peek into our life is Kirk and he hasn't brought it up since the walkthrough. Why would he when I'm his endless bank roll?

"I just want it to be done," she says into her hands.

I rub her shoulder. "Let me take you home. You need some rest."

Camilla glances at me, and I smile at her.

She smiles back.

"Is that a yes?" I ask.

She nods, her head heavy, curls bouncing.

"Good."

Something like gravity or magnetism pulls Camilla into my arms, her head resting on my shoulder. There she is. My baby girl. After a day of grinding and hustling, doing all the things that terrified me when starting a business, there is nothing as satisfying as this.

A phone buzzes.

Camilla's head shoots up, her eyes wide in mine. "You should get that."

My tongue knots.

"Right. I should." I'd nearly forgotten. It was so much earlier in the day I got the text in the group chat from Dad that Sonia had gone into labor. I had to silence notifications because everyone has been on pins and needles all day, an almost constant fielding of questions and concerns and excitement.

We search the table of crowded documents for my phone and I find it on the very last ring, Bridget's name across my screen. Bridget is Sonia's best friend and nominated herself as secondary support person which meant she would be at the hospital with Sonia and Dad up until delivery. I guess that also means she's the one dolling out the news so they both can enjoy the babies.

I answer in a hurry. "Yeah. Hi."

"Oh my god," she sobs into the phone. A happy sob. "It's amazing. They're amazing."

I smile, a true, unyielding smile. For all the issues I've had with dad and my feelings of unwantedness, I can't help the joy. "How is everyone?"

"Fine, great . Everyone's healthy, ten fingers, ten toes. You know. Anyway, if you can get down here–"

"It's almost midnight. Don't they want to rest?"

"That's what I said, but Sonia is insisting you and Nate and Abigail come down to meet them."

Sonia is insisting. Not Dad. "Yeah, okay. I'll get down there as soon as I can."

Camilla's arms encircle me from behind. I glance back at her with a nervous smile.

"Great, great. And could you do me a favor? I made an order to a sushi place near the hospital. Sonia's starving and–"

"I'll pick it up."

"Great. Great ."

We say our goodbyes, and I'm left with the phone in my hand and Camilla around my waist.

"Congratulations," she says. "Big brother Jack."

I place my arms over hers. "Yeah, I guess I haven't really been thinking about it."

"It's exciting."

"It is," I say, though my voice is hollow.

Camilla tucks her chin against my arm. "Are you okay?"

"I am. I'm fine."

Her eyes narrow. She knows me too well. "Jack…"

"I'm just nervous. I don't know why I'm so nervous, but–" I laugh at myself, unfolding myself from her arms. "I'll be fine. I just need to get going, I'll feel better once I'm moving."

I run my hand through my hair as I collect my things from around the conference room where we've been posted all day. I'm uneasy, light on my feet. I could fall over if I'm not careful.

What's gotten into me?

"Do you want me to come with you?"

I look at Camilla wide-eyed. "What?"

She folds her hands in front of her. "I mean. I could just go with you and drop you off at the hospital. Or I could stay in the waiting room. If you didn't want to be alone."

I blink. "You'd do that?"

Camilla smiles. And the whole world is bathed in sunshine though it is late at night. "Of course, Jack."

Of course .

My heart threatens to explode. "I'd like that."

She goes to her phone on the table and taps for the call to end.

"Will you stay?" I ask.

I've had Camilla walk with me all the way to Sonia's hospital room. Wanted to hold her hand but didn't want to run into someone in the family and have to explain or lie that business partners just do this sort of thing when we all know so much better than that.

"Yes, of course," she answers and nods toward a few seats along the wall. "I'll be right over there."

We share one last look. I capture a mental image of her eyes, warm and crinkled as they look at me. A safe place for me to land. Maybe.

I try to smile. Not sure if it looks like one, though.

With a final deep breath, I go into the room.

"Jack! Finally!" Sonia exclaims. Her warm reception is no doubt due to the hefty bag of sushi in my hand.

For a woman who just gave birth to not one but two babies, she looks remarkably awake and alive. Her effervescence is contagious. And in her arms, one of her little bundles of joy. A pink hat pokes out from the swaddled blanket.

Bridget swoops in and grabs the bag from me. "I'll take this. You go meet your brother and sister."

The last time I was in a hospital room meeting a sibling was when Abigail was born. And I was still just a kid. Under ten. My memories from that day are fleeting. It was daytime, certainly. Dad brought me and Nate together. I think he buttered us up ahead of time with ice cream and presents so by the time we met Abigail, we wouldn't feel jealous.

I go to Sonia's bedside and touch her shoulder. "Congratulations."

Sonia smiles up at me, her eyes still clouded with tears. "This is Emma."

She looks like an Emma if you can say that about a newborn who is still all scrunched and red-faced. It's sweet, though. Beyond sweet. Beautiful.

"She's perfect."

"She is," Sonia says, her attention glued to the baby. She touches Emma's little nose. Tugs at my heartstrings a bit.

"How are you feeling?" I ask.

"Amazing."

Nate pipes up from his place against the wide windows. "I think the drugs are still wearing off."

Sonia rolls her eyes. "Oh, be quiet."

I chuckle and exchange look with my brother. "No Abigail yet."

"She's on her way. Bridget had to call her five times to get a hold of her. Working on something for grad school. So, I got here first. I win best big brother award."

"I didn't know it was a competition," I say, then let my eyes fall to the corner of the room where Dad is posted up in a comfy looking chair, if you can call a hospital chair comfy. He's got a bundle matching Sonia's tucked up against his chest, this one with a blue hat. He looks to be submerged in a peace I've never known him to experience. So different from pictures I've seen from my own birth.

In the one photo taken of my father and me at the hospital, I'm cradled down by his chest, and he's looking at me like I'm an alien.

I guess I can't blame him. If I had had children in my early twenties, I would probably have been questioning everything in my life.

I force myself to smile. "Didn't see you there, Dad."

He smiles back, something like nostalgia in his eyes. "Hey, Jack."

I leave Sonia's side and go to my father, shoving my hands in my pockets since I don't know what to do with them.

"Come sit," Dad says, with a nod to the arm of the chair.

I perch beside him and duck my head down to get a better look at the baby. He's got his little hand tucked up against the bare skin of Dad's throat. "And this is?"

"Liam," Dad says.

"Hi, Liam," I say in a soft manner. "I'm Jack."

Dad's eyes are on me. I can feel them but won't dare make eye contact. It might kill me, send forth the tears I've been damming up since walking into the room.

"Thank you for coming."

"Of course, I came," I say. "Why wouldn't I?"

Dad hesitates. "I don't know. But it means a lot you're here."

"Anything for Sonia," I say with a glance back at her. She's gorging on her sushi while Nate attends to little Emma beside her.

"Yeah, she's amazing, isn't she?" Dad says with his eyes fixed on her.

I don't know what to say to that.

"I feel very lucky."

The angry voice of fifteen-year-old me starts to blab in the back of my mind.

Not lucky to have met my mother, though. Not lucky to have had me.

Dad inhales and looks up at me again. "You'll get it when you have your own kids."

"Yeah, I'm sure I will."

Liam stirs on Dad's chest, wriggling his little body and grunting.

"Hey there, little man," Dad says.

God, he's beaming. He's so fucking in love with him.

Of course, he is. Of course . That's how a man should feel for his children. That's how he felt about me, right?

The lightness returns to my body and this time, I'm not sure I can control it. My hands start to shake.

"You want to hold him?" Dad asks.

"I…" Yes. I want to. I want to be close to them. They might be my half-siblings, and I might be almost three decades older than them, but I want to be a part of their life. Be one of their protectors. I want to love them, want to make them feel wanted.

It's all too much, though.

"Can't," I husk. "My hands are–" I swallow, opening and closing my hands, trying to make them steady.

Dad's brow furrows. "You okay?" His voice is so soft and genuine.

"I'm fine," I say, forcing a smile. "I just–I need to–"

I get to my feet and, damn, those are unsteady too.

Dad tries to help. "Hey, take it easy, why don't you sit down and–"

It doesn't matter how much love is infused in his voice. My mind is reeling.

Why am I jealous of a fucking baby? Why does it even matter? I was born almost thirty years ago. I'm a man .

Yet, I'm as small as I've ever been.

"I'm just going to take a quick…" I slide one of my hands down the lapel of my coat to free them of all the clammy sweat that's been building up. "I'll be back." I can't hear my own voice, not sure if anyone else can.

Bridget tries to intercede, grabbing my arm. "Where are you going?" she says on a light giggle.

I shrug her off. "Bathroom."

I spin on my heel, paying no mind to any parting looks or words as I exit the hospital room.