Chapter 177

Cecelia could hardly feel the phone still clutched in her fingers. The sound of the doctor’s voice rang through her head again and again.

“We received your results surprisingly quickly and I wanted to get back to you as this is a bit of an urgent matter, I feel. As it turns out, none of the samples here match the fetal sample we took from you. None of these men are the father.”

It had put a cold chill through her spine. She had sent in samples for the three of them—Ryan, Sebastian and Grayson.

So if none of them were a match, that only meant…

The baby was Asher’s.

“Cecilia?” Grayson was saying, giving her a gentle shake. “What’s going on?”

She snapped back into reality, feeling the world stabilize under her. She couldn’t tell Grayson what’d just happened. She didn’t want anyone to know that the child was Asher’s or they might treat it differently—might feel betrayed by her. She took a deep breath and worked up the first lie she could think of. “Uh, the doctor wanted to update me on Asher. He says his brain function is improving.”

“Really?” asked Grayson.

It was a lie—a blatant one—but if anything, it would give Grayson hope. And maybe hope was what Asher needed to pull through. “It’s promising, but…it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s coming back.”

“I know,” Grayson said. “But it’s a start, isn’t it?”

“It sure is,” Cecilia said, feigning a smile.

By the time they arrived home, she couldn’t stand the hurt in her anymore. She wanted to forget about it—to drown her sorrows in something. Alcohol wasn’t an option, though. So Cecilia started up the hot tub in Clover’s room—not caring if it blew the downstairs fuse or not. After an hour of waiting for the water to warm up, she got in and sunk deep into the bubbles. It wasn’t long before Sebastian found her and peeped his head through the sliding door.

“How’d you know?” she asked when she saw him.

“All the lights are off downstairs,” he said. He climbed up on the edge and sat beside her, dipping his feet in. “It’s good you’re relaxing, but is it safe for the baby?”

Cecilia didn’t want to think about that right now. Any mention of the baby was just a mention of Asher. “I think a few minutes is fine,” she said.

Sebastian admired her, clearly noting how sad she was. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and said, “You look beautiful tonight.”

Cecilia offered him a faint smile. The moon was beating down on them both and stars had freckled the sky on the clearest night she’d seen in some time. She rested her head on his knee and watched the bubbles pop. “I don’t have much time until I bloat up like a whale. I should start practicing for my next performance.”

“We have all the time in the world for that. Relax now. You need it.”

He was right, but Cecilia couldn’t help but think that there was something else she needed. Something that wasn’t a bubbly hot tub and a nice penthouse apartment. Nor the stars or moon or sexy black hair. She didn’t need Viola Moon right now; she needed her mother.

She climbed out of the hot tub, shivering as Sebastian wrapped her in a downy towel. “Can you drive me somewhere?” she said. He gave her a small smile and nodded.

It was late and she wasn’t even sure her mother was awake, but Cecilia couldn’t stand being away from her any more. She wanted to crawl into her arms like she used to when she was a child. She wanted to ear her bland potato soup and watch the singing competition shows they’d watch on the good months when they could afford cable.

That was why driving back into the slums was a strange relief for once. It wasn’t a reminder of who Cecilia was, it was a reminder of all she’d done. Of the life she’d lived in this place with her mother. She fished out her keys as they approached the apartment door and wriggled it open. Her other was standing there in a robe, a cup of tea in her hands. And at the sight of her, Cecilia exploded.

“Honey,” her mother said in surprise as Cecilia threw her arms around her, nearly knocking the tea from her hands. “What’s wrong? What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Cecilia squeezed her tight and didn’t let go.

Sebastian hung around, but he stayed politely in the kitchen, cooking up a meal for them from his home land. Cecilia was surprised he’d be able to make anything out of the contents of their kitchen, but he promised he could make a decent meal with just eggs, rice and spam.

While he cooked, Cecilia sidled up next to her mother on the couch. She quickly flipped through the channels on the TV until she found their singing show. Her mother gave Cecilia a moment to decompress, tossing a blanket over the two of them. The gentle rustle of Sebastian cooking in the kitchen was a nice addition to the room, and the food he was making smelled unbelievable.

Smiled as her mother hugged her close. “Are you ready to talk to me now?”

Cecilia felt the lump well up in her throat again. “I don’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

Her mother turned from the TV to take in the sight of her daughter. “I’d never be disappointed in you.”

Cecilia gnawed on her lip for a long moment. Then she said, “What if I’m—”

“Pregnant?” asked her mother. Cecilia was shocked. How could she have possibly known? She shot up and her mother gave a laugh as she spilled a bit of tea on the blanket. “You think I haven’t noticed?”

But how could she have noticed? Cecilia wasn’t even showing yet. Her mother tossed her arms around her and squeezed her tights. “Oh, I’m so happy to have a grandchild. I never thought this day would come.”

Cecilia felt an overwhelming sense of relief, but also confusion. How was she not angry? She hadn’t even asked about the father. Cecilia wanted to tell her about Asher, but Grayson was in ear shot, so she swallowed her little secret down and said, “Thank you for not being angry.”

“How could I be angry?” her mother asked. “My little girl’s finally going to start a family of her own.”

But in a sense, hearing that felt like a punch to Cecilia. Starting a family on her own? Did that mean leaving her mother behind? What about the guys? She would have to choose one eventually, wouldn’t she? She didn’t want that.

She set her worries aside at the smell of incoming food and stared in awe at the magnificent meal Sebastian set before the two of them. “Spam Onigirazu,” he said. Cecilia stared down at the delightful little ride-sandwiches and grinned. “I didn’t know you were such a chef.”

Sebastian had helped himself to a soda from the fridge. He slid down the couch to sit on the floor, just beside Cecilia. “Hey, I’m cultured,” he said, before taking a drink. “There are few things I remember about Japan, but this is one of them. Spam and rice were my favorite staple meal growing up.”

“Did you grow up poor, too?” Cecilia asked.

Her mother gave her a nudge and hissed, “Cecilia, that’s not polite!”

But Sebastian didn’t seem to mind the question. He took one of the onigirazu and chomped into it, relishing the flavor. “Not really. We were comfortable. My dad made good money. But he was always saving, always looking for ways to cut expenses.”

Cecilia took a bite, shocked by just how simple and irresistible the intermingling flavors were. She quickly stole two more from the plate to keep for herself, laughing at the judgmental looks she received. “What? I’m eating for two now, leave me alone.”

“Eat,” said Sebastian. “I made plenty.”

Cecilia couldn’t recall a moment as of late that she’d felt as comfortable as she did. Sitting in their cramped, grungy little apartment with Sebastian’s delicious food and her favorite show playing on their outdated TV box. She wondered what kind of life her child would have, and a realization hit Cecilia.

She didn’t care what kind of luxuries her child had, as long as it had family.

“Mom,” Cecilia said, placing her onigirazu back on the plate. “Why don’t you come live with us?”