“Bro, mute your mic,” someone in the party says. “We can hear your kid.”
My ears burn under the headset. Goddamn it.
I slam the mute button.
As for the hickey—when Harper was there, lying out so beautiful on that hotel bed, like some fairy-tale Snow White princess—okay, fine. Maybe I got a little carried away.
But I averted my gaze when I took her clothes off and tucked her into bed. Like a gentleman. I kept my boxers on while I snuggled her warm body all night, breathing in the smell of her hair, dreaming of the life that would soon be ours.
And now itisour life. Because Imadeit that way.
“Z, adds on your six!” Malik shouts.
The words don’t register fast enough. I spin my character around, fingers jabbing keys, but I’m too late. Too distracted by the crying that’s getting louder and more desperate.
My health bar drops to zero.
Respawn timer: 45 seconds.
“Fuck!”
The baby screams. Full-blown, red-faced screaming that makes the neighbors bang on the wall. Three sharp knocks I know mean shut that kid up.
“Jesus Christ, can you just?—”
I shove away from the desk so hard my chair rolls back and hits the kitchenette counter. I reach down to the bouncer.
“—shut up forfive minutes?”
The kid’s face is purple and scrunched, fists waving, legs kicking like he’s trying to fight his way out of the straps. The pacifier’s on the floor next to him, covered in hair and crumbs from God knows what.
I pick it up, wipe it on my shirt, and shove it back in his mouth.
He immediately spits it out and screams louder.
The sound bounces off the walls of the tiny shitbox apartment, amplifying until it feels like it’s coming from inside my skull. Mrs. Chaudhuri’s TV goes quiet. Even the upstairs neighbors have stopped moving around.
Everyone can hear it.
Everyone knows.
I glare down at the baby, feeling so furious I want to fucking scream right back initsface. See how it likes it.
Because of course my perfect plan couldn’t come off completely scot-free. That bastard Caleb is still trying to hold onto my woman with his Goddamn tentacles even after I won. Greedy fucker.
I should have convinced her to abort it.
But by then she thought it was mine, and I saw how the kid could act as glue, securing her to my side forever. Especially when things were still so tentative between us. I saw a path and I took it, pretending to be so excited about being a father. But Jesus Christ?—
“Dude, what do youwant?” I finally yell at the baby, not caring anymore if the neighbors hear. “You have everything. Food. Toys. You’re not even wet!”
I checked. Like, two hours ago.
Maybe three.
The baby just screams louder in response. His face gets darker, fists pumping.
Three more bangs on the wall. Harder this time.