Chapter 12

AIDEN

I pushed open the door and walked in. The smell of fresh-baked pastries and breads filled my nostrils, reminding me of my visits to local bakeries with Cillian. As a kid, he always drooled over confectioneries and baked goods.

My eyes went to the women behind the counter. Freya. She was beautiful. Always had been. Her face glowed in the sunlight streaming through the large glass wall. That's how completely she had me hooked. Pathetic.

She said something like, "They look delicious," while setting down a tray of brownies. The elderly woman conversing with Freya noticed me. She elbowed Freya and jerked her head towards me.

Freya's smile vanished, and that irritated me. I walked over.

"So, are you going to be a regular here now?"

"I think so."

"We need to talk," I said, my words clipped. "Where should we sit?"

If I'd called her and suggested another meeting place, she probably wouldn't have come. Given little Cinderella's reputation, she's always running away. This seemed the best solution.

She glanced at the woman beside her before removing her apron. I followed her to a secluded corner of the bakery, as if she knew this conversation required privacy.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" Freya asked, her gaze cautious, as if I were about to drop a bomb. And the conversation wouldn't be pleasant.

"Gia is mine, isn't she?" I asked. She stared blankly for several seconds.

"W-What?" she stammered.

"Gia. She's mine."

She swallowed hard, shaking her head. "No! No. You're mistaken."

Could she be any more obvious? A child could see she was lying. She was sweating in this perfectly cool place.

I tilted my head, assessing her.

"Stop lying, love."

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about. But I'll have to ask you to leave, right now." Freya stood abruptly, likely hoping I'd take the hint and leave her alone with her lies. She seemed on the verge of a panic attack—rapid, shallow breaths, shaking fingers. What the fuck was that scary?

I leaned back. "Sit down."

"You heard me, Freya. Sit down."

Hesitantly, she sat, avoiding my eyes. Her fingernails dug into her palms as she clenched her fists.

Any good man would leave her alone, return later. But I never claimed to be a good man. Six years was long enough; I refused to wait any longer. Besides, I didn't trust Ms. Cinderella to not run again. I could track her down, but I wanted answers.

"You don't know what I'm talking about! Funny, because anyone could tell Gia is my daughter."

Freya glanced up. "Just because she looks—"

"Christ! Just admit it!" My voice was low and harsh. Her arguments were pointless, and my patience was fraying—it had never been strong.

"Or how about a paternity test?" That was the ultimate solution. Without her consent, I couldn't get one, and the last thing I wanted was to drag this to court. I sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"Why do you care?"

"Excuse me?" I blinked, incredulous. Did she seriously just ask that?

Freya's brow furrowed in distress. "Why do you care that you have a child from a random hookup?"

To her, it was a random hookup, while she'd been all I'd thought about for six years. The irony!

I didn't know how to answer without giving her a heart attack. How do you explain years of obsession? And I didn't even know her name then. If I told Freya this, she'd lose it.

"I should be the one asking questions, love." Fucking smooth.

"Why?" She blinked.

"I asked something. Why did you keep my child from me?"

She opened and closed her mouth, speechless. After a few seconds, she mumbled, "I'm sorry."

"I need a reason. A good one."

"I–I thought that you could claim full custody of Gia."

I waited. There had to be more. That couldn't be the only reason for hiding the father's identity.

I loosened my tie. "You thought? That doesn't sound like a good reason."

"Well, you could have, couldn't you?"

"I wouldn't have wanted to." I gritted the words out. I was offended that she thought I'd snatch a newborn from her.

I admit I wasn't trying for a kid then. But I always knew I wanted kids someday. And when I did, I wanted to be there every step of the way, not absent like my parents were.

But Freya took that away—that choice, that liberty—and now she had the audacity to paint me as the bad guy.

"I didn't know that, and I didn't want to take the risk!" She snapped, as if that made sense. I was going to lose my mind!