The sincerity in his voice was reassuring and calming which brought a smile to my face. He seemed happier now than he was when we first arrived. There was a new and bright spark in his
eyes.
I was about to reply but was cut off by the waitress. “Wilder? Is that you?” She asked, feigning disbelief. She placed the menus on the table, her hands went to her waist as she popped her hip out. Her blond hair was in a neat bun and she wore a very bright yellow shirt which could honestly
blind someone.
Wilder? Huh, I would have never guessed that was his biker name. I wonder how he got it.
Okay…maybe I don’t want to know.
Jonathan looked at her with wide eyes as if he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He set Collin to sit on the seat beside him, keeping an arm around his tiny body to ensure he doesn’t fall.
“Helena,” He started, clearing his throat. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.” He scratched
the back of his neck nervously. He stared at the table intently, seemingly afraid to even glimpse at
her.
I raised an eyebrow in curiosity at him, seeing the faint blush on his cheeks. What the hell is happening right now? My father lifted his stare from the table to meet my gaze and smiled
apologetically.
The woman called Helena rolled her eyes, and took her hair out of the bun just to flip her hair over
her shoulder, dramatically. I pursed my lips to suppress the grin that threatened to escape.
“Sure, you didn’t,” She replied sarcastically, puckering her lips like a duck.
She finally slightly acknowledged me with a glance before doing a literal double–take. She looked at my father, Collin and then back at me a few times, her mouth wide in what I believe is disbelief. Without warning, she let out a shriek of excitement, shaking her fists in the air.
Collin whimpered, startled by the loud noise. Tears gathered in his eyes. He reached for me and I immediately pulled him into my arms, rocking him slowly.
“I am so sorry,” Helena apologised profusely.
I waved her off. “It’s okay,” I told her, patting Collin’s back gently and then I looked at my father questionably.
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He finally realised what I was trying to hint. “Right,” He nodded. “Helena, I guess you’ve already figured out that this is my daughter, Riley. Riley, this is Helena, my… friend,” He introduced, hesitating at the last word.
She cast a glare at him before holding out her hand. I freed one of my hands to shake her perfectly manicured hand. “Nice to meet you,” I gave her a tight–lipped smile.
Her lips tipped up in amusement. “And who is this cutie?” She asked, beaming at Collin.
He hid his face in my shoulder as the attention shifted to him. “This is Collin, my son,” I responded.
“He’s absolutely adorable,” She said, her voice made me flinch slightly as to how high it just went.
A customer called her name. “One minute,” She shouted back.
Helena picked up the menus, placed one in front of me and gave another to my father. “The kid’s menu is on the last page. I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order,” She announced, turning around to go to the customer.
“I’m sorry about that,” My father said apologetically.
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you sorry?” I questioned. The only thing he should
be sorry about is my poor eardrums.
He sighed, leaning back in the seat and crossed his arms. I spoke before he had the chance. “Why? Are you sorry because this isn’t how you imagined this was supposed to go, with me meeting your crush or girlfriend?”
He stared at me, his mouth agape in surprise. He instantly shook his head incredulously. “She is
not my girlfriend and I do not have a crush on her,” He denied, vehemently.
I could have sworn I heard him say ‘she’s not my girlfriend, yet,‘ under his breath, but if he says he doesn’t have a crush on her, I believe him… Not. I mean, who the fuck was he really trying to
convince?
I hummed and looked at Collin. “Papa likes that pretty lady, doesn’t he, baby?” I asked my son, nodding my head. He copied my action, bobbing his head up and down, and clapping his hands. “Yes! yes!” He cheered.
I shot a pointed look at my father. “See,” I gestured to my happy boy.
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“Whatever,” He grumbled, scrunching his nose. He picked up the menu but I could tell he wasn’t reading it at all.
I chuckled in amusement.
“Anyway, I have a question,” I started, jokes and amusement aside. His face turned serious as he saw my expression.
“What should I call you?” I asked him, “Dad, Jonathan or Wilder?”
Part 1: The Hidden Truth
