Peter found he was thinking of Megan constantly. He fell asleep thinking of her and when he woke his first thought was would he see her today?
He had talked to her at length about his father. She thought he should respond. "You'll feel better if you get some questions answered. It might bring closure." She warned, "If you decide to see him, don't bring him near the twins."
He noticed she didn't say, my kids.
He finally sent a reply to his father. Why now? Where have you been all these years?
He wasn't holding his breath for a response. He still hadn't decided about telling his sisters. It was hard, because he saw Becka all the time.
Apparently with a child in high school, John didn't need to hide his social life. Victoria watched the kids on Saturday morning while he went to the lab to check on some results. When he came back, he asked, "Are you okay with my sister hanging out down there?"
"Sure. She's nice, and he likes her. I'll be going off to college. I'm glad he won't be lonely. It would be stupid if they pretended they weren't having sex."
Peter was taken aback, because she was talking about sex so matter-of-factly. Then he remembered he was having sex at her age. Did Megan look as young as Victoria back then? Being a father changed his perspective. He didn't want to think about Sophie with a seventeen-year-old guy like he had been.
Becka came out to talk to him while he and the twins were playing in the backyard that afternoon.
"Is everything alright?"
"Sure. Why?"
"You seem pensive."
"Pensive is not a word you use in kindergarten." He teased.
"It is when you're talking to a parent about their pensive child. Seriously?"
"Everything is fine. If you're asking about Megan, I think we're finally friends again. It's not perfect, but..."
"But you want more."
"I've always wanted more." He answered honestly.
He held back saying anything about their father. Joe Brenner had replied to Peter's questions. Apparently he was in AA and was going through step nine - making amends. Peter had sent a message back, What about Mom, Becka and Liz? Have you contacted them?
When he brought the kids home on Sunday, Megan looked tired.
He asked, "Are you feeling okay?"
"Yes, just worn out."
"When do you see the doctor again?"
"Wednesday after school. Can I let you know if I am running late?"
"Of course. You only have four days until vacation." He tried to encourage her.
He wanted to hold her and let her lean on him. Instead, he told her about his father's response.
That night he dreamed about Megan. He dreamed that she had a boy that looked just like Nick. That meant he looked like him which was impossible. It got weirder because his father came to visit in the hospital and he looked just like when he left even though he was twenty-two years older and an alcoholic. Peter didn't know if he'd even meet him, but knew he didn't look like he remembered. Before he left, his father drank beer, but Peter was too young to know about his problems. He wished he could talk about it with his mother, but he didn't want to hurt her. He was glad he had Megan.
How strange was that? He was letting himself get close to her again. After Thanksgiving he had backed off. He didn't want to admit to playing games, but the truth was he was doing just that. He wanted her to miss him if only the part of him she took everything out on - all her frustration and anger.
He had some plans for when the baby came, but he would need some time off. He spoke to Leo, his boss and friend for over five years. He hadn't shared a lot of details, but Leo knew that his relationship with Megan had improved recently. Leo was part of his poker group.
It was in February when Dan said, "Megan was over the other day. She's popped."
Peter said, "I noticed that too."
John asked, "Are you talking about your ex?"
Peter nodded not wanting to act like it was a big deal.
"Popped? What do you mean?" asked Leo.
Dan said, "She's having a baby."
They looked at Peter as if expecting him to explain. He said, "Don't look at me. It's not my story to tell."
So his friends knew, but it wasn't a secret. The secret was the father of the baby and for lack of information many assumed it was him. If his friends had questions, his response silenced them.
He tried to sound casual when he spoke to Leo. "Megan's baby is coming soon. I will have my kids when it happens, so I'll need time off with no advance notice. Probably just a day or two."
"You have plenty of accrued time. Just let me know when you know. Are you okay with this?"
"Sure, I can still come in and check on things if I need to. I won't let anything slide."
"I meant the whole baby thing."
"Oh that. I'm happy for her." Leo gave him a look. "Really. I am."
He could deal with it because she wasn't in a relationship. Did he wish the baby was his? Oh, hell yes! For so many reasons, he wants this baby girl to be his, and he would claim her. He was glad she wasn't a boy. A boy might look too much like Evan. Besides Evan wasn't very tall, and Peter thought a boy may be short. A shorter girl wasn't so bad. Peter was six foot, and Megan was five-six which was a decent height for a woman. He remembered Evan to be about five-eight. Somehow he had rationed a shorter girl was better than a shorter boy. Better for what? For passing her off as his child?
She called him on Wednesday morning, as he was just walking out the door. "What's up?"
"Hey Bren, I just wanted to remind you I might need you to pick up today."
His stomach flipped when she called him, Bren. She hadn't called him that in years, but it reminded him they were friends once.
"I remember. Listen Meg, call me either way. You can give me an update on your appointment."
"Okay. Have a good day."
"Bye."
He stood right inside his door for a moment or two then he shook some sense into his brain and headed out. He had a busy day.
YOU ARE READING
Shattered Hearts (TP1)
Romance(Complete) Peter isn't prepared for the reality of another man spending the night with his ex. He should be, but his heart has never let her go. Peter, who was abandoned by his father as a young boy, will do anything for his kids. He won't stop unt...
