Page 82 of Secret Baby for my Off-Limits Fiancé

But my father’s right about one thing. This isn’t just about Eva. This is about proving myself. Proving that I’m capable. That I can handle this, that I deserve this.

After saying my goodbyes, I leave his house, my mind still tangled in everything he said.

I don’t want to be the kind of man who walks into a boy’s life only to leave it. But my relationship with Layla is… complicated.

And yet, with every step I take, I realize one thing with startling clarity.

Maybe it isn’t just an arrangement anymore.

Not wanting to go back home, I instead drive to Dante’s house. He’s one of my closest friends. I need to clear my head, and a conversation with him, or at the very least, a solid workout, might help.

I find him in his gym, shadowboxing with a bag when I walk in.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to turn up." He grins as he lands another punch on the bag. "Care to join?"

I put on a pair of gloves. "Sure, why not."

"You look like you could use a good workout anyway."

"Oh, you have no idea."

"Trouble in paradise?"

I start throwing a few punches at the bag.

He smirks. "Or fake paradise. Whatever it is that you have going on with that girl."

Dante is the only person I’ve told about this arrangement.

"My dad expects me to propose to her soon." I land another jab at the bag.

"Shiiiit." Dante circles the bag. "That’s tough, man. But it’ll just be a temporary thing, right?"

We trade blows with the bag, the sound of leather hitting leather filling the room. Each punch seems to knock loose a bit of the tension I’ve been carrying, but it’s not enough to clear the fog in my mind.

"Temporary, yes, but I’m starting to finally realize that it’s not as simple as I thought it would be," I sigh. "She has a kid."

"Have you met him yet?"

"Yeah, he’s sweet. We really got along."

"So, what’s the problem, then?"

"He doesn’t deserve to be caught up in all this. If I go through with the proposal and it’s just a business deal, what happens to him if things fall apart?" I land a solid punch on the bag, growing more frustrated with myself by the minute.

"I see what you’re saying. He’s the one who’s going to be affected the most if things go south."

I don’t answer.

We keep sparring until sweat drips down my back.

Dante is the first to tap out, but I keep going. Every punch I throw releases more of the tension building up inside of me.

Finally, I step back, letting my gloves drop to the floor and sit down on the mat next to Dante.

"So, what’s your plan?" Dante wipes the sweat from his brow.

"I keep trying to tell myself that it’s going to be fine, but I can’t shake the feeling that this is all going to blow up in my face."

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