My Best Friend's Dad

A Broken Man

Tristan’s POV

I arrived last night back at home. I was still hopeful about Elona and getting her back. I really hope she takes me back this time. I was still off from work and I took my phone from the bedside table and went to Eric’s contact.

Me: Is Elona at the apartment? I would like to come over and talk to her...win her back.

I hit send, and then I went to the lounge as I waited for his reply. And then my phone chimed, alerting me of the text. I looked at my screen, and it was Eric’s reply.

Eric: She isn’t here. She went to the usual coffee shop with her Dad. I thought you were in Southampton?

Me: I came back because I need to speak to her. I will see if I find them at the coffee shop.

I hit send, and then I shoved my phone into my jeans pocket, grabbed my car keys from the kitchen counter, and left. I hope I will find them there. I don’t care if David has to hear everything I have to say to her, even if I have to repeat myself a million times, I will.

***

I pulled up with my car in the parking space along the sidewalk to the coffee shop. A storm was heading our way because the weather was grey and cold. I sat for a little while sucking in a deep breath before exhaling through my mouth, and then I got out of the car. My heart was racing in my chest as I entered the coffee shop. I scanned the place, and they weren’t here. I must’ve missed them. With a sigh, I went to the barista and ordered a coffee.

As I waited for my coffee, I was standing in thought, “Tristan?” I turned around to see an old friend of mine. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“Craig, it’s great seeing you again. I can’t complain about much, I guess,” I shrugged. “And how about you?”

“I’m good, just busy at the hospital,” he then put in an order while I took my cup of coffee that the barista had just placed on the counter. “You look like you need someone to talk to?” he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“Maybe I do. It's woman issues. But you said you are busy at the hospital, so which hospital is it that you’re working at now?” I asked.

“The one where I had to replace a doctor for taking money to fake a paternity test,” And then it dawned on me that Craig was replacing that doctor who screwed up my fucking life.

“He’s the one that ruined my life because the woman that claimed to have my baby paid him for fake paternity test results.”

He whistled while shaking his head, “Well, he lost his license.... Thank you,” he said to the barista who handed him his coffee. “Care to join me for a catch-up?” he asked.

“Why not?” I replied, and we sat across from each other. I placed my coffee on the table.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that ordeal. Is it woman’s trouble with the woman that lied about it?” he asked.

“Yes and no. I dated Cris’ best friend secretly for a while,” his eyes were huge. “I had a one-night stand with that woman, Maggie, before that, because I wanted to get rid of thinking about Elona and its David’s daughter,” he whistled again.

“Did he find out?” he asked.

“After I broke Elona’s heart.”

“Elona Everett,” he stated in thought.

“That’s the one. I broke up with her because I was planning to raise this other child who wasn’t even mine,” I scoffed.

“If I remember reading her medical file, she and David came to see me two weeks ago for her routine check-up since she had surgery a while back-”

“Yes, that happened while we were still dating at the time, and that was when I found out she has Endometriosis,” I interrupted him.

He nodded. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he seemed hesitant to say it, studying me, and I furrowed my brows in confusion.

“Estelle passed away three years ago. It’s going for four years soon. You were at the funeral,” I was so confused.

“Elona had a miscarriage even though her condition was worse at the time, and she needed surgery,” he watched me intently.

I covered my mouth with my hand, resting my elbow on the table. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, they are aware of it. She lost the baby-I’m assuming it’s your baby,” I leaned back in the chair, trying to think back to that day. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew about it.”

“Um... I-I need to go,” I stood up and hurried out of the coffee shop. The world was a blur around me as I got into my car. I tried to keep a sane mind as I drove back to my house.

***

I don’t remember walking into the bathroom. One second, I was standing in the kitchen with Craig’s words echoing in my ears, and the next, I was gripping the edge of the basin, staring at my reflection like it might give me answers. She lost a baby. Our baby. And I never knew.

My hands shook as I turned on the faucet, watching water swirl down the drain like it might wash away the pressure crushing my chest. I splashed my face, hoping the cold would bring me back, help me breathe...but it didn’t. It just made the burn in my throat worse. I leaned forward, my forehead against the mirror, trying to keep it together. Trying to make sense of the chaos tearing through my head and my heart. She was pregnant, and she went through that alone.

Now, staring at my own reflection again, watching the blood drain from my face while my brain tries to catch up with my heartbeat. A baby. My baby. Gone before I even knew it existed. I left her so that I could take care of another baby that wasn’t mine. Now I know why she isn’t taking me back that easily.

The walls felt like they were closing in. The air was becoming too thick, like I couldn’t breathe. I twisted the cold faucet open again, splashed water on my face, but it didn’t do a damn thing. My hands won’t stop shaking. My chest won’t stop aching. And then it hits me. My birthday. She had the surgery on my birthday. She lost our baby on my birthday. The same day, everyone was calling, texting, sending messages like “Hope it’s your best year yet.” And she was in pain. I fucked her in the pool and I witnessed her in pain, falling apart while my birthday was being celebrated.

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” I whispered in agony.

I stumbled back from the basin, hitting the wall, and slid down until I was sitting on the cold tiled floor. The grief caught up to me in one brutal wave. A sharp, ugly sob rips from my chest before I can stop it. She should’ve told me, but maybe she didn’t because she knew I didn’t deserve to know.

I buried my face in my hands, tears slipping through my fingers. My next birthday… it won’t be the same. It can’t be. How do you blow out candles and make wishes on the anniversary of losing something you never even got to hold?

The silence in the bathroom was deafening. Every sound, the tick of the dripping faucet, felt like a scream in my skull. My body was trembling, not from the cold, but from the pressure building inside me. Like grief was too big to fit in my chest with all the losses I had so far in my life, and it was trying to claw its way out. There was this crushing, hollow ache in my ribs, like something had been carved out of me without warning. The kind of pain you can’t scream through because you don’t even know where to begin. I felt... robbed. Robbed of the chance to know, the chance to mourn with her, not after her.

Anguish settled into my bones like winter, cold, bitter, and permanent. My mind kept replaying it, looping over the same broken truth like a punishment: She was carrying our child, and I never knew. David f^cking knew too, yet he said nothing to me. Did she ask him to keep this from me? Does Cris or Eric know? Now, every memory of my birthday feels tainted. Laughter, messages, cake, drinks… it all feels sick now. Like celebrating while the world was quietly ending behind my back.

I dragged my hands down my face, my skin raw from rubbing. My eyes burned, my throat sore from holding back too much for too long. I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay on the floor and drown in the weight of it all. But I couldn’t. I needed to see her. To look her in the eye. To ask all the questions that were now screaming inside me.

With a heavy breath, I forced myself up. My legs barely cooperated, shaky like they didn’t belong to me. I gripped the edge of the basin for balance, staring at the shell of the man in the mirror. Red eyes. Pale skin. Broken. But I still had to go. Because whatever this was between us, whatever was left, it needed truth. Even if it shattered me again.