Page 82 of One Little Mistake

God, that short beard suits him so well. He looks like a damn god.

If he kisses me tonight… if things go further than they should… I won’t stop it this time. I want him. I deserve a little slice of happiness. Even if it’s temporary.

I finish up my work. The courier arrives right on time like always. I hand off the orders, lock up the shop, and head toward the front door of the building with Max at my side.

It’s already warm outside, and I’m wearing a light coat.

A soft breeze whips my hair in all directions. The grass is turning green, birds are singing. Everything feels calm and peaceful, but I can’t shake the bad feeling creeping up my spine. Like a storm cloud is about to roll in and ruin this perfect day in an instant. Is it because of the talk we’re about to have? Or am I just overthinking again?

Tim starts to fuss, so I pick him up, holding him close while Max walks beside me, pushing the now-empty stroller. He presses the elevator button. We wait, locked in a tense gaze. My chest tightens. The air crackles.

Click.

Ding.

The elevator doors slide open. I exhale slowly, turn to step forward—and freeze.

I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

I stare wide-eyed at the man standing inside. He stares right back. Shock. Confusion. Disbelief. It floods both our faces. I blink, trying to convince myself it’s just someone who looks like him.

But it’s not.

It’s him.

Max.

The real father of my child. Standing in the same building, within arm’s reach.

No.

No way.

This can’t be happening.

I can’t get air into my lungs. My knees threaten to buckle. I stare at him in disbelief. He stares at me. Then, his gaze drops to Tim in my arms. I clutch my baby tighter, instinctively, protectively. His eyes go wide. He blinks.

“What’s wrong? You feeling okay? Why aren’t you getting in the elevator?” Max asks, oblivious to the man standing inside.

I finally snap out of it. Turn toward him, dazed. He’s holding the stroller with one hand and the bouquet of roses he just gave me with the other. He looks concerned, completely unaware that in a split second, everything might have just changed.

“Erin?”

The other man’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife.

“Oh my God, where have you been? I thought something happened to you. I’ve been losing my mind! I searched everywhere… Is this… is he our son?”

Max—the other Max—takes a hesitant step forward. He’s so close I can smell his cologne. The same scent. The one from my memories. And it pulls me violently into the past.

“M-Max?” It’s all I can manage to say.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the stunned expression on the face of the Max who isn’t mine. And I know nothing will ever be the same again.

“You must be the runaway groom, huh?” Max says with a dry chuckle, cutting the other man off before he can say another word.

“And who the hell are you supposed to be?” my ex snaps back, glaring him down with growing hostility.

“No one,” Max says coldly. “Erin, let’s go.” He tries to nudge me toward the elevator.

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