Page 110 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

“About listening? Yes. About my sex life? No.”

“Okay.” She nods once, like she’s filing something away. “So you fucked her and…”

“There’s a child.”

“What?” Her eyes flash with something, but it's gone just as quickly.

“And she's mine.”

Atelia straightens slightly, her brows pulling together, not in confusion, but in focus.

“How old?” She asks.

“Almost four.”

“So, it’s from that night in Vegas?” Her lips press together briefly.

“Do the math.” I click my tongue.

“Did she confirm this?”

“Yes.” I nod, then exhale.

“And what did you do with that?” Her eyes catch mine now, probing me.

I lean forward slightly, resting my forearms on my knees, my hands clasping loosely between them.

“I told her I’d take care of them.” I shrug, trying to make light of it.

“Okay.” She nods. “And?” She tilts her head just a fraction.

“I’ll stay away.”

She doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she studies me longer than necessary like she’s trying to decide if I’m serious. If I actually believe what I just said.

Then she stands, chuckling.

She walks toward the window and stops. Hands slipping into the pockets of her pants, her gaze laser sharp on the city beyond the glass.

“Do you remember what you were like?” She asks, not looking at me still.

I don’t answer because I don’t like where this is going.

“You were unbearable,” she continues, taking a few steps back into the room, her gaze now fixed on me. “You, my friend, were happy for no reason. Smiling like you’d won something the rest of us couldn’t see.”

I bite down on my tongue, snuffing out the memory before it takes shape.

“You used to leave early,” she adds. “You used to cancel things and ignore calls. Because you had to get home.” She pauses, smiling. “To them.”

“Wrap it up.” I push off the sofa.

“You were a good father.” She ignores me. “You were… a good husband.” She steps closer.

“I know.” I move past her.

“And now you get to be that again,” she continues, turning with me, following without hesitation. “Do you understand how rare that is? How…”

“That’s not what this is,” I cut in, stabbing a finger in the air to make my point.