Page 33 of One Little Mistake

“I don’t believe you. Why would you do this? Why help some random girl you don’t even know?” I start to feel anxious again, wishing he’d just leave and never come back. Because if everything he’s saying is true, then Max really did lie to me, sending me to a stranger’s apartment and disappearing.

“I’m asking myself the same thing,” he mutters with a shrug. “Guess there’s something about you that makes people want to help. Vivienne and Logan were ready to take your baby home, look after him until you’re back on your feet.”

Just hearing about my baby knocks the breath out of me.

“What happened? Do you know how he is?” I stare at him, heart pounding, desperate for even a few words—something, anything—that will tell me my son is okay. That he’s healthy. That I don’t have to worry.

“Your heart stopped,” he says bluntly. “But officially, they put it down as a birth complication and severe blood loss. I didn’t get all the details.” He pauses. “The kid’s fine. Doesn’t look like you. They tried to hand him over to me; thought I was the dad.” He chuckles dryly, and the room falls silent again.

I relax just a little. I’m pretty sure there’s a soft, dreamy smile on my face now, because in my mind, I’m holding my baby boy in my arms. Tim. I’ll call him Tim, I decide, suddenly and firmly.

“Here’s your phone.” I blink in surprise when he pulls my smartphone out of his pocket. “Call your grandma, your friends, whoever. Let them know you’re okay. I didn’t tell anyone you were in the ICU—figured it’d just worry them. But I’m sure someone out there’s been wondering.”

“Did you talk to someone?” I ask, tension creeping into my voice. I can’t understand how he’d know about my grandma.

“Something like that,” the man says evasively, then gently places the phone in my hand. “I saved my number, just in case. Max Taylor. I changed the password, sorry—it’s all ones now. If you need anything, call me. Your stuff’s still at my place, so we’ll have to meet again anyway.”

“Thanks,” I manage to whisper, barely holding back the tears. This Max—the one everyone thought was my husband—wasn’t my Max. The disappointment sits heavy on my chest. I feel alone. Abandoned. I can’t see my son, I can’t reach the guy I thought cared, and it really feels like I’ve hit rock bottom. Although… things could’ve been worse, I guess.

The first thing I do is check the phone for missed calls, then open my messages and social media. There are a few unread messages, but none of them matter right now. I’m looking for one name. Just one.

“He still hasn’t been online,” the man says, watching me closely—like he’s reading my thoughts.

“He probably still doesn’t have reception,” I mumble, lying to myself as I set the phone aside and swallow the bitter lump of disappointment rising in my throat.

CHAPTER 13

Erin

The man doesn’t say much. He just sits there quietly, staring off into the distance. He’s… strange. He looks dangerous, intimidating even—I mean, I did think he was a criminal when I saw him in the apartment. But in reality, he’s calm. Steady. Almost… gentle.

I bite my lip, trying not to cry in front of him. Not from pain, but from the knot of hurt sitting in my chest.

Max hasn’t messaged me. Not once. He hasn’t called to ask how I’m doing.

I nearly died.

Our baby could’ve been left without a mother while his father’s still very much alive.

And this stranger—he’s right. As much as I want to deny it, the truth is undeniable.

Max left me. Just walked out of my life. But hope is a stubborn thing. My heart wants to believe there’s an explanation. That there was a reason.

Things were good between us—at least, I thought so. We talked about the future. We never even fought. He asked me to move in...

A shaky breath escapes my lips as realization hits me like a wave. That apartment... Maybe it wasn’t his. Or maybe I got it wrong and mixed something up.

I cling to that thought like a life raft, refusing to let myself drown in despair.

“Are you okay?”

His voice cuts through my thoughts. He must’ve read everything on my face, because there’s concern in his eyes.

“Yeah,” I lie, barely audible. “Just... still trying to process everything.”

I don’t know what to say to him. I close my eyes, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave. I know I should be grateful—he saved me. But I’m so bitterly disappointed that it wasn’t Max who walked through that door that I can’t even look at him.

“Max,” I force his name out. It tastes like regret. “Thank you for everything. I promise I’ll pay you back for all the expenses.”

---