Page 37 of One Little Mistake

And now, even the fact that I still haven’t seen my son seems a little less crushing compared to the thought that I might not have lived to meet him at all.

I type back:

“Thank you, I’m feeling better.”

It sounds a little dry, but honestly, what else can I say to a man I’ve only met twice?

Max Taylor: “Glad to hear it. I’ll come by tomorrow if the weather clears up. Need anything?”

Me: “Why?”

Max Taylor: “Need to bring a few things for your baby. The hospital staff asked me to.”

I realize he’s probably talking about picking up some essentials, so I quickly start typing:

“In the nursery...”

But I delete it, not wanting to remind him of the disaster I created in his apartment.

I rewrite:

Me: “There’s an envelope with cash under the crib mattress. Please take whatever you spent and anything else you need to get. Thank you.”

He starts typing. Then stops. Then starts again.

The typing indicator bounces for so long that I figure the conversation is over.

I tuck the phone under my pillow... and immediately feel it buzz again.

Max Taylor: “You’re gonna need that money. Don’t worry about it.”

Me: “No, I can’t accept that.”

It just feels wrong—to accept money from a stranger.

Especially for someone like me, who’s been taking care of herself for years.

Or maybe it’s because I’m just not used to people helping without expecting something in return. Before Max, none of my boyfriends were exactly generous, so whenever he paid for something during our trips, it always made me uncomfortable.

Max Taylor: “I can.”

While I’m still thinking about what to say, another message pops up.

Max Taylor: “You should’ve been asleep by now. Stick to your schedule.”

Me: “I can’t fall asleep. I still haven’t seen Tim.”

I finally spill the thing that’s been gnawing at me all day.

Max Taylor: “Who’s Tim? Thought your runaway fiancé’s name was Max.”

Me: “I named my son Tim.”

There’s a pause. I hold my breath, staring at the phone screen without blinking.

Max Taylor: “Good name. Good night.”

I toss and turn in bed, unable to find a comfortable position.

---