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Why did he have to call and say all those things? I was already having enough of a hard time without his incredible speech.
His kind words echo in my mind as I study my face in the mirror. But then they mix with the harsh warning from Natasha.
She’ll destroy him, and I’ve given her the perfect ammunition to do so.
Exiting the bathroom after far too long, Becca looks at me with a question on her face. I shrug and fake a smile.
Going over to the far wall, I collect my small purse and shoes from the floor near Becca’s huge mattress. Having hung out since five thirty, it’s time to get back to my dad’s.
“You sure you want to go? You’re more than welcome to stay here.”
Smiling at Becca, I nod. “Yeah. I need to get back, or Dad will think I’m sick again. Plus, I’m exhausted and need sleep, and you snore.”
“I do not!”
She chuckles, jokingly punching me in the arm, but it ends with her pulling me in for a huge hug.
“I love you, babe. Remember that, okay? If you need me, just call.”
“I will.” I sit down to pull on my shoes. “I just need to think a little more. I want to tell him, but there’s all the other stuff.”
“The other stuff can be worked out if you guys do it together, but if you just want to leave him, I get it. I won’t judge you either way.”
“You’re the best.”
I give Becca another hug, and it lasts for minutes as I soak up the comfort I so need right now.
When we finally separate, I grab my purse and leave through the front door. I find my car, my steps dragging, and then head back to my dad’s.
During the drive, I don’t turn on the radio or the Bluetooth on my phone. For whatever reason, I don’t want to hear songs or a podcast. Nothing sounds good.
It’s a quick enough trip, and at each red light, I imagine my life moving like the colors on the stoplight.
Green has been the go, go, go of the past few years, the inviting verdant hue of Ireland and the happy-go-lucky version of myself that suddenly feels so far away.
Yellow is meeting Noah, the risky urge to see if you can push through and make it before the light changes, and the fraught tension inside every moment spent so close to him before we finally gave in to our passions.
Red is right now.
It’s finding out I’m pregnant, Natasha blackmailing me to ruin Noah’s life, and the bewildering place where I hang in this void, unable to make a decision.
I hate red lights, and I hate this.
Reaching my dad’s, I pull the car up the driveway and pray to whoever is listening that Dad is already in his bedroom, watching TV in there for the rest of the night.
I move as quietly as possible as I open the door and close it behind me, releasing the knob at a snail’s pace.
“You don’t have to be so quiet, hon. I’m not in bed. How old do you think I am?”
I jump, spinning around and landing against the door with a gasp.
“Holy shit, Dad! You scared me.”
He laughs, but instead of joining in, I just straighten my shirt and attempt to wish him goodnight.
“Hey.” He stops me in the hall with a hand on my arm. “What’s up? You still not feeling well?”
“No. Sorry. I just want to get some rest. Night.”
