Page 60 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy
I stand outside. Rehearse opening lines.
Cecie, I'm sorry.
I know you're angry, but please hear me out.
I brought this letter. It explains everything. Or tries to.
All terrible.
The door is locked. Obviously. It's six-thirty on a Saturday morning. She's probably home. Probably sleeping. Probably not thinking about the orc who lied to her and then confessed possible fatherhood in the worst way imaginable.
I pull out my phone. Type a text.
Can we talk?
Delete it. Try again.
I'm sorry. I know that's not enough, but I need you to know I never meant to hurt you.
Also terrible. Delete.
I'm outside your store. Not in a creepy way. I couldn't sleep. I have a letter. Can I leave it for you?
Somehow worse. Delete everything. Pocket the phone.
Then I slide the letter under her apartment door. Watch it disappear into the gap. Feel my stomach drop because there's no taking it back now.
Monday morning.Colum finds me at my desk surrounded by tenant reports I'm not actually reading.
"You look like hell."
"Didn't sleep."
"Still?" He sets down a coffee. "Gunther, you can't function on anxiety alone."
"Watch me."
He pulls up a chair. Sits backwards on it like we're in some teen drama. "Did you talk to Cecie?"
"I wrote her a letter."
"A letter." He blinks. "Like. On paper?"
"I slid it under her door Saturday morning."
"And?"
"And nothing. She hasn't responded." I refresh my email for the fortieth time this hour. Still empty. "Maybe she threw it away. Maybe she's consulting a lawyer. Maybe?—"
"Maybe she needs time to process." Colum's voice gentles. "You dropped a bomb on her, man. She's allowed to sit with it."
I know he's right. Doesn't make the waiting easier.
"I want to help." The words come out frustrated. "I want todosomething. But every option feels like overstepping or hiding or making it worse."
"So don't overthink it." He taps my desk. "Be useful. Practical. That's your language, right? Show her you're serious without demanding answers."
"Like what?"
