Married to my Baby Daddy

The moment Daniel told me he was getting married, I forgot how to breathe.

I was sitting across from him in the private dining room of his penthouse, slowly stirring the coffee I had barely touched. The spoon kept hitting the porcelain cup, creating a soft, irritating sound that suddenly seemed much louder than it should have been.

Daniel watched me over the rim of his coffee mug.

“I’m getting married.”

Four words.

That was all it took to turn a perfectly ordinary morning into something I couldn't recognize anymore.

I stopped stirring.

For several seconds, I said nothing.

Then I laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because I didn't know what else to do.

“Married?”

“Yes.”

“To who?”

“Victoria.”

The spoon slipped from my fingers and landed inside the cup.

Daniel's eyes followed the movement before returning to my face.

“You've met her before.”

“Have I?”

“You saw her at the charity dinner last month.”

I searched my memory.

There had been dozens of people at that dinner. Business partners, socialites, investors, politicians, their wives and girlfriends.

I remembered a blonde woman in a red dress standing beside Daniel for most of the evening.

Was that Victoria?

I looked away.

“Oh.”

Daniel leaned forward.

“That's all you're going to say?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don't know, Claire. Congratulations would be a start.”

I forced another smile.

“Congratulations.”

He didn't smile back.

Instead, he studied me with that irritatingly familiar look of his.

The look he had used on me for ten years whenever he knew I was lying.

“You're upset.”

“I'm not.”

“You are.”

“Daniel—”

“You haven't even asked when the wedding is.”

I reached for my coffee.

“When is it?”

“Six weeks.”

The cup stopped halfway to my mouth.

“Six weeks?”

“Yes.”

I placed it back on the table.

That was fast.

Far too fast.

But I had no right to question him.

Daniel was my best friend.

At least, that's what I had told myself for years.

He was the person I called when I couldn't sleep. The person who knew every embarrassing thing about me. The person who had seen me cry, lose my temper, fail, succeed and make some of the worst decisions of my life.

He was also the father of my son.

Our son.

Ethan.

Two years ago, Daniel and I had made one mistake.

One night.

One night that had changed everything.

We had never been lovers. We had never dated. There had never been candlelit dinners or stolen kisses or whispered promises.

Just friendship.

Then came Ethan.

Neither of us had planned for him, but the moment I held my son for the first time, I knew there was nothing accidental about loving him.

Daniel had been there too.

He had never abandoned us.

He had paid every medical bill, attended every doctor's appointment, stayed awake through sleepless nights and somehow learned how to change diapers without looking disgusted.

He was a good father.

Maybe that was why his wedding hurt more than I wanted to admit.

Not because I wanted him.

I couldn't want him.

Could I?

“Claire?”

I blinked.

“What?”

“I asked if you were okay.”

“I'm fine.”

His eyes narrowed.

“You're lying.”

“I said I'm fine.”

Before he could argue, the sound of small footsteps came from the hallway.

“Mommy!”

My heart immediately softened.

I turned.

Ethan came running toward me in his little dinosaur pajamas, his dark curls sticking up in every direction.

I opened my arms.

“Come here, baby.”

He climbed onto my lap and wrapped his arms around my neck.

I kissed his cheek.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.”

“Did Daddy give you breakfast?”

Ethan nodded.

“Daddy made pancakes.”

I looked at Daniel.

“You made pancakes?”

Daniel shrugged.

“They were edible.”

Ethan immediately disagreed.

“They were good.”

I laughed.

“Then Daddy did a good job.”

Daniel smiled.

For a brief moment, everything felt normal again.

The three of us sitting together.

Ethan between us.

Daniel looking at me.

Me pretending not to notice.

It was almost enough to make me forget the woman waiting to become his wife.

Then Daniel spoke.

“Ethan will be staying with me after the wedding.”

My smile disappeared.

“What?”

“He'll live here.”

I looked at him.

“With you?”

“With me and Victoria.”

I felt something cold settle in my stomach.

“Did you ask her?”

“She knows.”

“That's not what I asked.”

Daniel sighed.

“She knows Ethan is my son. She understands that he comes with me.”

“Comes with you?”

My voice sharpened.

“He isn't luggage, Daniel.”

“I know that.”

“Then don't talk about him like he is.”

Ethan looked between us.

I immediately lowered my voice.

“Sorry, baby.”

Daniel leaned forward.

“Claire, I'm not trying to take him away from you.”

“Then why does it sound like you are?”

“Because I'm getting married. My son will live with me.”

I stared at him.

“And what happens when I'm not there?”

“What do you mean?”

“What happens when you're at work? What happens when you travel? What happens when Victoria is alone with him?”

Daniel's expression hardened.

“You don't trust her.”

“No.”

The answer came too quickly.

He noticed.

“Why?”

“I don't know her.”

“You will.”

I shook my head.

“I've known you for ten years. I've known her for ten minutes.”

“Give her a chance.”

I looked down at Ethan.

He was playing with the buttons on my blouse, completely unaware that the conversation around him could change his life.

I touched his hair.

“I'll give her a chance.”

Daniel relaxed slightly.

“But I'll be watching.”

His eyes met mine.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen.

Victoria.

Something inside me twisted when I saw her name.

Daniel answered.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

I looked away.

I didn't know why hearing him call another woman that made my chest ache.

I didn't want to know.

I stood and lifted Ethan into my arms.

“I should go.”

Daniel covered the phone.

“Already?”

“Yes.”

“Claire.”

I stopped.

“Come to dinner tomorrow.”

“With Victoria?”

“Yes.”

I hesitated.

Then nodded.

“Fine.”

I walked out of the penthouse with Ethan in my arms.

I thought I was simply going to meet the woman who was about to become my best friend's wife.

I was wrong.

Because the next evening, I would meet Victoria.

And before the night ended, she would make it very clear that she didn't want me anywhere near her future husband.

More importantly, she would make it clear that she didn't want my son either.