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How the hell were Bella and I supposed to coparent? We’d just started dating. Sure, I had strong feelings for her, and we were together-together, but this was rushing things big-time.
I had spent my entire childhood resenting my father and his long absences. I had also resented my mother for putting up with his shit. I had wanted a normal, regular kind of family with two parents who were married and lived together. It had defined me more than I cared to admit, and I had never, ever wanted to repeat that pattern, which was why I hadn’t done relationships. Now I had created anything but the nuclear family. Twice. Fuck.
Hurling the whiskey bottle across the room, I watched it crash into the wall with a certain sense of satisfaction. Liquid splattered and glass came raining down on the carpet. It was exactly like my life. A mess.
I thought about Bella and wondered how she had been able to keep such a secret from me these past few weeks. When I had commented on her curves and she had just stayed silent. And this was after being angry with me for saying I would readily keep a secret. I was just drunk enough to call her out on it so I picked up my phone and sent her an angry text.
And you gave me all that shit about not keeping a big secret.
It’s not like I wasn’t EVER going to tell you. It’s not the same thing.
She had half a point. I was too stubborn to admit that though. I didn’t respond to her.
Christian. Whatever you need or want to do is okay with me. I don’t expect anything from you, I swear.
She ended it with a kiss emoji.
I knew she meant it. I knew she was happy just to be having a baby. I knew she was happy with me, but she would be happy without me if she had to be. I thought about how generous and kind and loving she was. She was going to be an amazing mother to our child. I thought about the way she looked at me when she smiled. The way it went all the way to her eyes.
I had to do the right thing. I had to marry Bella.
The minute I made that decision I felt instantly better.
I could do this. I could right my wrongs. I could get full custody of Camp and we could be a blended family. Bella wouldn’t object to that, I was certain of it. We could move into her payoff from Bradley, that awesome little cottage with the fenced garden, and I would make sure I put a man cave in the garage so it didn’t feel too much Bella, too little me. I would get great satisfaction at knowing my presence there would piss off Bradley to no end when he found out.
As far as futures go, this wasn’t a bad one. It actually sounded pretty fucking awesome. Maybe this was the way it would have ended up anyway. Bella and me and a couple of kids. Because I did love her. I really did.
I could make this work. Man the fuck up.
Then there was a knock on the door and I went and answered it, unshaven and reeking of booze. It was a certified letter. Ali was suing for fifty-fifty custody of Camp.
Fortunately, I had another bottle of whiskey. I took a sip straight from the bottle and let the words on those documents blur in front of my drunken eyes.
