Page 21 of Mercy Lake

Everly viciously glared my way before a sudden contraction had her overtaken. Between panting breaths, she managed to spit, “Not the time, Owen.”

How fucking convenient.I knew I sounded bitter, and that it was the worst moment to question her, but something sinister was going on.

Before I could rattle her with questions, we arrived at the hospital. Biting my tongue, I sourced a wheelchair and raced her to the maternity ward.

With the impending birth, I had managed to get my head straight. The baby’s safety was paramount, as well as the mother’s. That definitely was not the time for me to have a conniption over a possible misunderstanding.

When we rolled into the birth suite, Everly was calling out in pain, body tensing from the onslaught of childbirth.

Worry and concern consumed me as I thought of how selfish I was. That moment wasn’t about me.

As the midwives congregated around Everly, they threw out a multitude of questions, one specifically asking how far along she was.

“I’m full term. Forty weeks,” Everly managed to grit through her teeth.

For the second time in my twenty-seven years—my world imploded.

I slumped back in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs in the waiting area—unfortunately, not alone. Across from me sat the military guy, posture rigid, face blank. He wouldn’t even look at me.

Everly’s mother had arrived not long after we did, running past us without a glance, her sole attention focused on her daughter.

I felt unhinged, unable to pinpoint a single emotion as they all raged and rioted within. A convoluted hurricane of unknowns and questions barraged to be set free.

I managed to confront the stranger only once. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

Maybe he is her cousin or a long lost relative? That is plausible, right?

He answered with a nonanswer. “Talk with Everly.”

That was it. He didn’t succumb to any other forms of communication, choosing to blatantly ignore me instead.

I didn’t have to wait much longer before a smiling midwife swept into the room. “Mum and baby are healthy. Does the father want to come and meet his daughter?”

The statement itself was innocent, however, the connotation behind it had my heart beating out of rhythm. The midwife wasn’t addressing me… She was looking at the only other male in the room.

As if in slow motion, the military man stood ramrod straight, and with complete confidence and pride, he said, “Take me to my girl.”

I stood in the archway of the hospital room, looking in on the scene with a sense of doom.

Everly sat in the centre of the single bed, fingers fidgeting with the worn hospital blanket. The baby was sleeping soundly in the bassinet next to her.

She offered for me to sit beside her. I refused. I needed to be near my only form of escape.

I probably appeared how I felt—a total mess.

Although only one day had passed, it felt like a lifetime.

I think I was broken. Destroyed and fucking crushed at the realisation that everything was a lie.

“She’s definitely not mine?” I managed to croak through the strained silence.

Everly shook her head. “I was already four weeks pregnant when we slept together.”

Crack.

“The paternity test?”

“I used my mum’s access to forge the results.” I was surprised she was being so forthcoming. Although, I supposed she didn’t have a choice anymore as all her lies had caught up to her.

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