Chapter 2
"Why would you want to invite him out of the blue?" Cheryl asked, her voice tight with suspicion.
I picked up the spoon, wiped it off, and handed it back to her.
"We haven't seen him at all since you got pregnant. Thought it might be nice to catch up," I said, still acting casually.
Cheryl immediately picked up on the odd edge in my voice.
"Honey, what's going on with you? I swear, ever since I broke up with him, I've never even talked to him again," she insisted, her voice tightening with nervousness.
Never talk to him, huh? Then I guess this baby just magically appeared inside her.
I clenched my trembling hands and forced a smile.
"Of course I trust you. It's just a dinner. Don't overthink it," I replied, forcing myself to sound as casual as possible.
Cheryl was still on the fence, but after I kept at it—nagging, coaxing, whatever—she finally gave in.
"Come on, have a seat. Dinner's almost ready," I said, sounding as normal as ever.
I stayed busy in the kitchen, but couldn't help glancing over at Cheryl and Eric in the living room.
They sat way apart, like they didn't even know each other, but I caught Eric sneaking looks at Cheryl's belly every chance he got.
"Here, babe, eat some more shrimp. It's great for the baby," I said, putting on the caring husband act.
I kept loading up her plate, making a big show of it, and Eric was watching my every move.
He looked like he was barely holding back a smirk, thinking I was the only one at the table getting played by them both like some clueless idiot.
"You seem amused. What's so funny?" I shot at him.
Eric nearly jumped, scrambling for his fork, clearly flustered and at a loss.
"N-nothing," he muttered, barely meeting my eyes.
I wiped my hands off after peeling the shrimp, then spoke up, my voice calm but heavy.
"Eric, I want you to be my kid's godfather," I said, my voice steady but with a trace of something one couldn't quite put their finger on.
With an epic spit-take, Eric nearly coughed his food all over the table.
He wiped his mouth frantically, his eyes wide as he blurted out, "Dude, no way. Count me out!"
From bio dad to godfather? Man, this soap opera was getting wild.
I let out a mocking click with my tongue, watching the scene play out.
Cheryl sat silently, her face stone cold—not a trace of her usual warmth.
"Why would you even suggest that?" she asked, her tone confused and a little uneasy.
I caught the look in her eyes—full of unresolved tenderness for Eric.
"Seriously, what's the big deal? I'm just suggesting he be the godfather," I said, playing it off like it was nothing.
Cheryl held her belly, searching for a comeback, but the words just wouldn't come.
"Or is there something going on between you two that I don't know about?" I said, keeping my voice cool but cutting.
Eric jumped in, flustered, scrambling to explain himself.
"Eden, come on, don't say things like that," he said, throwing out a nervous grin.
"I was just caught off guard, that's all. Honestly, being the godfather? I'd be honored," he added, trying to sound laid-back.
"Good, that's all I wanted to hear," I replied, keeping my voice steady but cold.
I lifted my glass.
"A toast to the godfather," I said coldly.
Eric was clearly uncomfortable, shooting me a forced smile. He had no way out but just nodded along.
"Babe, what's wrong? You've been sulking all night," I said, trying to sound concerned.
Cheryl pulled her hand away from mine with a flash of irritation.
"That's rich—asking me what's wrong? Why are you so hell-bent on making Eric the godfather tonight?" Cheryl snapped, frustration lacing every word.
"Do you have some kind of issue with him or what?" she added, her voice sharp and defensive.
Every time something about Eric came up, she'd get all up in arms, acting way too aggressive.
But now wasn't the time to lay all my cards on the table. I couldn't push too hard yet.
"Aw, come on," I cooed, brushing her hand playfully.
I kept my voice light and teasing.
"Eric's so outstanding. I just want our child to have a good role model," I said, mostly joking, giving her a playful wink.
"Besides, he already said yes. So don't be upset, honey. It's not good for the baby." I coaxed, putting on my usual doting act.
The moment I mentioned the baby, her mood flipped. She went from sulking to beaming in a heartbeat.
"Promise me, next time you'll talk things over with me before doing anything. Don't just make decisions on your own like tonight," she said, her voice finally softening.
"Alright, I promise," I replied, flashing her a reassuring smile.
Just like that, we went back to our usual lovey-dovey routine.
"Hey, how about we start thinking of names for the baby?" I suggested, trying to sound casual.
As soon as I brought it up, Cheryl sat up straight, suddenly all serious.
"Why so early? And besides, not everyone is here," she said, sounding slightly irritated.
It was our kid. Shouldn't naming it be just between us? Why would we need anyone else?
I shot her a confused look.
"We can't just decide on a name when the godfather isn't even here," she declared, like it was the most obvious rule in the universe.