Page 41 of Sin Wagon
“It’s just a lot at once, babe. We’ll figure it out,” he assures me, pulling me into a hug. I feel his strength, his solid presence grounding me even as my thoughts swirl.
“I want to go home. I need to distance myself from all this... from them. I need to figure things out.”
“Okay. So we change our flights and leave. I’ll look at the airline app right now.” He pulls his phone out and starts to search as I go to my room and change into some jammies again.
As I change, my thoughts keep circling back to the confrontation. I’m carrying my dad’s grandchild slash niece or nephew. Claudia has really made me step into it this time. If I knew my dad, I’d have known Wells and not ridden his dick into the sunset in an alley. The memory of that night flashes through my mind. It was impulsive, raw, and it felt right at the moment. But now, with everything crashing down, I wonder if I was just naïve.
“Babe!” Derek calls from the other room. “Is eight AM too early? We’d have to be at the airport by 6.”
“No, book it. I’ll start packing,” I call back, immediately shoving my things into my suitcase.
What if I really was just a notch in his belt? A stripper in Vegas, that was easy. Wells said he wanted to be a good dad, but don’t they all say that? Sell a pipe dream just for it to blow up in your face? It’s what Claudia did to Jonas. Maybe I’m better off alone—just me, Derek, and Little Boba.
I pause, holding a shirt in my hands, staring at it without really seeing it. Why do I always end up in these situations? Is it my daddy issues, as Jonas so cruelly pointed out? Or is it something deeper, something fundamentally flawed in me? Ithink about my childhood, the absence of my father, and the longing for a trustworthy male figure in my life. Did that drive me to Wells, or was it just a convenient excuse for Jonas to throw in my face?
And Wells... he seemed so genuine. But can I trust my own judgment anymore? My heart says one thing, but my mind is screaming with caution. The stakes are too high now, with Little Boba on the way. I can’t afford to make another mistake.
“Derek, do you think I’m just a fool?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper as I walk back into the living room.
He looks up from his phone, his eyes softening. “No, Delilah. You’re not a fool. You follow your heart, and that’s a strength, not a weakness.”
“But what if my heart is leading me the wrong way?”
“We all make mistakes. But you’re strong, and you’ll get through this.” His voice is firm as he reassures me. “We’ll get through this together.”
Derek’s words are comforting, but the doubt still lingers. I think about my future—about raising Little Boba. Can I do it alone with just Derek? Should I let Wells be a part of it? The questions keep coming, unforgiving.
I finish packing and sit on the bed, looking at my suitcase. It’s not just clothes in there; it’s a symbol of my escape, my need to run from the chaos and find some clarity.
WELLS
We reach my parents’ room, and I collapse into the chair nearest to the door, burying my face in my hands. I shouldn’t be here with my parents and Jonas explaining myself. I should be with Delilah, figuring out what our next steps are. With the day after tomorrow being the end of our little getaway, there is still a long list of things we need to discuss.
“I need a drink,” Jonas sighs.
“No. We will all have clear heads when we talk. And make sure you’re ready to listen and not let your fists do the talking. I know you are angry, Jonas, but your brother would not hurt you on purpose. So we are going to hear him out and figure out where to go from here.” My mom crosses her arms and stares at him with her ‘I mean business’ face. “Again,” she adds.
I glance at Jonas, seeing the struggle in his eyes. He’s trying to keep his cool, but I know he’s on the edge. The room is thick with tension, and we sit in silence until we hear the door unlocking and my dad strolls in.
“Well, the only charges are for some tableware and a minor scratch on a chair. I paid for it and will cover dinner, but you two owe me two hundred dollars.”
“I got it,” I tell him, pulling out my phone and using the payment app to send it to him directly—anything to avoid this conversation any longer.
“Now, let’s start with what the hell just happened.” He sits on the couch, opposite Jonas looking between the two of us.
“Your son impregnated my daughter. And now,” Jonas seethes, “my first grandchild is also my niece or nephew.”
My heart sinks hearing him say it out loud. I stare at the floor, wishing I could disappear. How did we end up here?
But there’s no escape now. I have to face this head-on, for her sake and for our baby’s.
“Wells, are you confident that you are indeed the father of Delilah’s baby?” my mom asks.
“Yes. The timeline matches up and Delilah wouldn’t lie about something like that,” I tell her.
“How did you meet? How did this happen?” my mom asks.
My heart pounds as I inhale deeply, my breath quivering with a hint of dread. How do I explain this without making everything worse? But I start from the beginning. “I went to Las Vegas for my clubs, as I do every month. The night before heading home, I stopped in at a local club. Hidden Gems. I won’t give you every detail, but Delilah was a dancer there, and we ended up hitting it off and spending the entire night talking. One thing led to another, and we were intimate and I didn’t use protection.”
