Best Friends Don't Sleep Together - A.H. Series #1

Chapter 32

VIVIAN

The walk back to my parents' house was surprisingly longer than I expected. Probably because I did it on my own. Sebastian made sure to escort me out of the sketchy side of the park, so that people knew I was not "to be messed with" – his words, not mine. Basically, it was his way of telling the criminals in this town that Vivian Dawson is untouchable. However, I asked him to let me walk on my own from there on, mostly because I needed time to think.

As crazy as it might be, I was truly considering his offer. Not for me, but for the baby. He should have a father, but would having an outlaw dad be better than not having one at all? And if we were to remain separate, with Sebastian continuing with his line of work, would that mean people might potentially get to the child someday?

The way Sebastian put it, he evaluated every scenario. He said he didn't want me to end up like Lola, but he also said that because it was unlikely that the secret would be kept forever, the baby and I would be much safer with him than without him. He also assured me that being with him wouldn't force me to leave my friends, I could still see them, my family and everyone I know. I could still do my job and live a normal life. I had a hard time believing that, but he assured me that other than a few precautions, which are basically the same as any rich kid in New York City would take, everything would be more or less "normal".

It was a good logic, he probably was sure I would cave at the mention of my child's safety more than at his heartfelt confession. Because in the end, that's what this was all about. It wasn't much about me and my feelings – if any – for the baby daddy. It was all, or almost, about the baby and his safety. There was a high chance that, if I wasn't pregnant, I wouldn't need time to think about it, I'd have politely rejected Sebastian's offer.

Because the truth is, as much as I came to care about him over time ... I don't love him. I felt attracted when we were together in New York, sure, and maybe even now. I do care about him enough not to want him to suffer because of me. But ... love? Highly unlikely.

When you've loved the same man for so long, you don't just forget him and move on to the next one simply because he doesn't want anything to do with you anymore. When you've loved like I have, like I regrettably still do, it takes years to move on. If you ever do.

If I wasn't pregnant, nothing would matter. I would take my time, I would maybe even travel the world, seek new adventures and find myself again. I would rediscover my life, a life without Chris and his lies, his overbearing presence that I never considered as such until now.

But I am pregnant. A baby takes precedence over everything else by default. I had to focus on his safety and his future. Besides, the chances that I'll ever love again are way too feeble for me to even entertain the idea. However, a child needs both parents, so even though I know my mom and dad would be great help, my friends would swoop in immediately to be the greatest uncles and aunts ever, he'd still miss his dad. The question is, does his dad need to be the biological father?

With my head full of these dilemmas, I walked slowly back home, so slowly that when I got to my neighborhood it was already dark outside. What took me off guard was seeing police cars in my parents' driveway. For a moment, I worried something had happened to them, but then I realized Adam had probably called 911 when he saw me leave with Sebastian.

Nevertheless, everything seemed much calmer than I had imagined it would be. No red tape, no sirens everywhere, no onlookers badmouthing the reckless daughter that got knocked up by a drug lord, no journalists interviewing people that knew me as a child, only to be told that I was just a cute and sweet little girl, how could I ever do this to my poor parents?

I passed two officers that didn't even see me sneak past them, as busy as they were arguing about some basketball game, and I headed directly for the front door, which was wide open. In the living room, I saw my mom trying to calm my dad – always the more sensitive one of the two – as they talked to two people that looked familiar. Adam was pacing the room, eating his nails – as usual when he's nervous. When I moved closer, I saw someone else in the corner. "Dylan." I called out loud, forgetting that the other people in that room were talking about me.