Page 57 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy
"Every problem has a solution." He taps his pen against the notepad. "Step one: confirm paternity. You need to know for sure before you do anything else. That means talking to Cecie. Apologizing. Explaining. And asking for a DNA test."
My stomach churns. "She'll think I don't trust her."
"Or she'll think you're being responsible." His expression softens. "Look, this is scary. For both of you. But you can't build anything on assumptions. You need facts."
Facts. Data. Measurable, verifiable truth. I can work with that.
"Okay. Paternity test. Then what?"
"Then you figure out what kind of father you want to be." Colum's voice goes serious. "Because this isn't about spreadsheets or reputation or what looks good professionally. This is about a kid who deserves to know his dad. And a woman who deserves honesty."
Honesty. Right. "What about the conflict of interest? If Orry's mine, that makes Cecie?—"
"The mother of your child and a tenant." Colum grimaces. "Yeah. That's sticky. Ethically we should recuse you from anything involving her lease. I'll handle her contract renewals going forward. Keep it clean."
"She'll think I'm avoiding her."
"You'll explain." He meets my eyes. "Transparent communication, Gunther. It's the only way through this."
Transparent. Like confessing I spent a year fantasizing about a mystery woman who turned out to be real and sitting twenty feet away in the plaza and raising my possible son alone for eighteen months.
"I'm terrified." The admission slips out.
"Good." Colum grins. "Means you care. Now go home. Get some sleep. Tomorrow you apologize to Cecie and ask for that test. And Gunther?"
"Yeah?"
"Stop catastrophizing. You're good at your job. You'll be good at this too."
I wish I believed him.
Home isa small apartment with too many books and a kitchen I barely use. I make tea. Sit at my table. Glance at the wall.
Then I open my laptop.
How to tell someone you might be their child's father.
The search results are useless. Custody law. Paternity fraud. Reddit threads full of disaster stories.
I close the laptop. Try again with pen and paper.
Dear Cecie,
I'm sorry for lying. I didn't mean to deceive you. Ridge was a mistake. A persona I adopted for one night because I wanted to be someone different. Someone bold and careless and free.
But I'm not that person. I'm Gunther. I wear pocket protectors and color-code my calendar and collect vintage calculators. I'm boring and anxious and I overthink everything.
And I think I might be Orry's father.
I crumple the paper. Start over.
Cecie,
I know you're angry. You have every right to be. I should have told you the truth immediately. But I was scared. Scared of your reaction. Scared of what it meant. Scared of everything changing.
But it already changed. The moment I saw Orry's dimple. The moment he grabbed my finger. The moment I realized that one reckless night created something precious.
I want to know him. I want to be there. Please give me a chance.
