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Chapter 17
Christian didn’t show up for work for two days. Everyone asked me if he was okay and I just shrugged it off. Brandy knew I was pregnant. She had told everyone, so they were all being very kind to me, but the long stares were starting to wear on me. I was embarrassed to admit that I hadn’t heard from him other than cursory texts saying he was fine in response to my concerned megatexts. I started out fine, but the more time passed, the longer my texts started getting. I was trying to be reassuring and supportive and loving all at once.
Because I was getting scared. This was a long time to avoid me.
But I was determined not to make any demands. I could take care of myself if I had to. I had already ordered a real bed from IKEA and a sofa and end tables with my waitressing money. I was sure I would get a full-time job long before the baby was born and then I could take maternity leave. I wasn’t stressed, exactly.
I just wanted Christian to love our baby.
And, okay, me. I wanted him to love me, because I loved him.
The last month had been amazing. Being with him was both exciting and easy. It felt effortlessness. Just lots of conversation, laughter, and amazing closeness. It wasn’t just sex. It was intimacy. Bonding. Christian felt it too, I knew he did. And I think it scared him because it was new to him. He wasn’t one for the fairy tale, that was for damn sure.
Which was evident when he showed up at the restaurant on day three looking strung out and exhausted. He had dark circles under his eyes, a three-day beard, and wrinkled clothes. He came over and kissed me on the forehead as I stood in the doorway to the kitchen, hesitant. This was not how I had wanted to see him again, but hell, I’d take it. He looked calm enough. The kiss was affectionate.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m glad to see you.”
“I’m glad to see you too.” He tucked my hair back, his constant gesture of tenderness. “Everything is going to be okay, I promise you that.”
I nodded. “Okay. Good.” I touched his chest. “I don’t want you and me to change, I hope you know that. I want to be with you.”
“I know.” He was still oddly serene, but he didn’t exactly say he wanted to be with me.
Relief mingled with annoyance. We should not be having this conversation at work. But apparently even that was all I was going to get. He tweaked my nose and went back behind the bar to set up for his shift. What the hell?
By the time my break rolled around, I was fuming. This was all I got? A forehead kiss at our mutual workplace while I took in eight bucks an hour? Seriously? He couldn’t have come over to my place this morning so we could have a freaking private moment?
One of the other waitresses, who had confessed to me in a giggly moment last week that she had slept with Christian ages ago, kept giving me sympathetic looks, which further irritated me. Everyone clearly knew I was pregnant. Brandy had even said something directly to me. The only person ignoring the situation was our boss and owner, Thomas. Well, and Christian.
I had ordered myself a salad loaded with veggies for my break and I chose a table way in the back, where it was dark and the vibe was moody. Tourists didn’t like to be seated back there because they couldn’t see the town or the sailboats docked in the marina. I sat down and stabbed my lettuce, realizing that the first time I had ever seen Christian was right here. I had been eating a salad with Sophie and had run to the restroom crying because my wedding dress hadn’t fit right. But mostly because I had seen text messages on Bradley’s phone before I left Boston. Just a quick glimpse before he swiped the screen clear. Now it was eight weeks later and my fantasy wedding hadn’t even happened.
I worked here.
Christian was my boyfriend. Or had been, until he had found out I was pregnant. Now I wasn’t sure.
If this wasn’t the summer that changed everything, I couldn’t imagine what would be. Yet I was happy. And from day one, from that very first moment I had seen Christian and his pale blue eyes had pierced me, I had been attracted to him. I never would have dreamed then that would have led to this.
I certainly couldn’t have predicted that Christian would pull out the opposite chair and toss a packet of papers in front of me. “Ali filed for shared custody of Camp,” he said without preamble.
My fork fell down onto my plate. “Can she do that?”
“She just did.” He made a face. “I called your father and he gave me a lawyer’s name, so I talked to him this morning.”
“You called my father?” How did he even have my father’s number? Life just kept getting weirder and weirder.
“Yes. I figured if anyone would know a killer lawyer, it would be your dad, right?” He looked at me like this was obvious.
“Well, sure, but…” But what? I suddenly had no idea. “So what did the lawyer say?”
“He said the odds aren’t great for her because she abandoned him with zero contact. There is no paper or electronic trail indicating she ever tried to see him or get updates on his well-being. But if the judge is feeling sentimental, he or she might side with the mother given that I work nights and I have a pregnant girlfriend who doesn’t live with me and neither does Camp. My mother has shared custody with me currently and is considered the custodial guardian. Technically Ali is suing us both for a request for a reshuffle of custody. So, worst-case scenario, she and I share custody. Which would suck for my son and my mother.”
A lump formed in the pit of my stomach. “But that’s worst-case scenario. Also, please tell me you didn’t tell the lawyer it’s me who is pregnant. My father doesn’t know.”
“No, I didn’t tell him.”
Not that it would take a genius to figure it out. I was going to have to call him pronto. What a mess. I reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, Christian. But it will work out. Ali is not a fit mother, that’s pretty obvious.”
His jaw worked. He looked terrible. Determined. “I think we should get married.”
