Page 39 of Pack Apollo

"Great, great," he replies. "Are you busy? Have you had lunch yet? I could meet you somewhere."

"I actually just finished lunch," I tell him.

There's a slight pause before he suggests, "Coffee then?"

"Sure," I give in.

He tells me the time and place to meet him at. It's somewhere downtown in the city. So, I Uber a ride before leaving the restaurant. I could call Palmer, but that would open up a topic of conversation that I'm not ready to have with anyone yet. Not until I find out what the man wants and what truths he thinks he's speaking.

He beats me to the cafe. I spot him immediately, even before he waves me over to the booth he's sitting in.

"I wasn't sure if you'd actually come or not," he admits as I sit down across from him.

After my mother just standing me up, it's a cold reminder that I'm nothing like her. It makes my reply snappish. "If I say I'm going to do something or be somewhere, I don't go back on my word.

He holds his hands up palms out in surrender, but the barista behind the bar interrupts him from saying anything.

"Daryl!"

Sliding out of his seat, he goes to the counter to retrieve two cups. Daryl. My potential father's name is Daryl. It's such an awkward feeling to even think about.

When he sits back down, he sets a cup down in front of me. "I wasn't sure what your usual is, but everyone deserves to try a white-chocolate mocha if they haven't already."

I don't tell him that it's one of my favorites, nor that I very rarely drink coffee period.

Waiting until I take a tester sip, he starts talking. "Can I ask you how your mother is?"

"Not until you tell me who you are," I tell him.

"That's fair," he says. "I'm Daryl Montgomery. I'm from a small town a couple hours south of here. I once attended the North Five University where I studied for my law degree. I once fell in love with a beautiful woman named Maureen who broke my heart."

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe you," I tell him, shaking my head. "She's always said that my father and his pack ran out on her when they found out she was pregnant. She wouldn't have any reason to lie to me."

I feel the sting of the lie on my tongue. It most certainly wouldn't have been the first time and definitely not the last.

"I don't know why she would tell you that," he says, tone defeated. "I really did love her. My whole pack did. I wasn't the only one whose heart she broke."

"It makes no sense," I murmur, thinking about the other times she's lied to me about things. "Did you spring some kind of big news or change on her suddenly?"

He doesn't even have to think about it. "As a matter of fact, we did. I told her that we were moving up here so that me and one of my pack mates could attend the college. Within a matter of weeks after that, she ghosted us."

By the sounds of it, she either knew she was already pregnant and possibly didn't want to hold them back. But, I know my mother. Even the person she used to be, and she's always been kind of selfish. I kind of wonder for a moment if she didn't let them get her pregnant on purpose so that she'd have me, and I'd never be able to leave her. Maybe she thought that's what they were trying to do.

"Did you ask her to move with you?" I ask quietly.

"Yes," he states. "Many times. Her answer was that she'd think about it. We took her silence as an answer when she ghosted us."

My stomach feels like it's in my throat, making my chest hurt.

"I'd really like to meet with her," he says, having not noticed that I'm mid freak out. "Maybe if everything goes well and you're both willing, I could pitch in and help pay for your college. It's the least I could do."

That's it. Final straw. Sliding out of the booth, I make a beeline for the door, ignoring him trying to call me back. I make it outside to the sidewalk before I realize it.

An arm goes around my shoulder and I shrug it off, spinning around to face him. "Don't touch me. I don't know you. I don't know if my mother even knows you. You could be a total creep for all I know. Strangers don't just go around offering money to people, especially if they're in your situation and haven't even proved I am who you think I am."

"That's what I'm trying to do," he says just barely hiding his exasperation. "I just want to meet with her and find out what really happened."

"I'll talk to her and see if she's willing," I tell him, withholding that it's not likely since she can't even be bothered to meet with her own daughter.

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