80

“So, she devised a plan,” Dominick said.

I looked at my oldest brother and nodded. “Once she found out she was pregnant”—I lifted my uninjured arm, pressing my palm onto the top of my head—“I was the lucky guy who walked into the bar at just the right time.”

“You’re well dressed,” Jenner said. “You opened a tab with a black card. She asked a few questions, found out you’re a lawyer, where you live—she had her man.” He shook his head. “She probably got you so drunk that you wouldn’t remember if you’d put on a condom.”

That was the way he saw it.

Probably the way all of them did.

Not me.

I wasn’t the sucker who’d walked into the bar that night.

I was the man who’d eventually become Everly’s father.

I didn’t care that I’d gotten hustled.

I didn’t care that I’d gotten lied to.

She wasn’t a fucking burden.

She was the biggest blessing of my life.

I looked at Sydney, who hadn’t known any of this. Who had apologized endlessly for lying when there was something I was holding back from her.

So