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“What if I can’t? What if I don’t know how?” I covered my face with my hands wishing I hadn’t had so much to drink. The world was starting to tip sideways.
Rob took my arm and led me toward his car. “You should probably have thought about that before dancing without your sock on.” He opened the passenger side of his beat-up car and practically shoved me inside.
“Marlena’s pregnant, Rob,” I repeated as he was driving us away from Sweet Lila’s.
“Yep. Marlena’s pregnant. And you’re going to have to figure out what you’re going to do. But I would recommend sobering up and coming at this with a clear head because from what I saw tonight, you were a total asshole.” He turned down my street and came to a stop outside my apartment building.
“I asked if it was mine,” I admitted, feeling sick.
Rob made a noise of distaste. “Man, that’s low. Even for you.”
“I didn’t mean to ask it. I know it’s mine. It was a reflex. God, I didn’t mean it.” I clenched my hands into fists wishing I could hit something.
“Sounds like you have a hell of a mess to clean up,” was all he said. Because what else was there to say?
“I can’t lose her.” I sounded sad and pathetic and I didn’t care because I was all of those things and worse.
“I don’t think that’s your choice, Jeremy,” Rob replied sagely.
“What am I supposed to do?” I wasn’t the kind of guy to look for advice from anyone. Not because I thought I had all the answers, but because it was hard to look someone in the eye and acknowledge that I needed help. My mother never asked for it because she was ashamed. My father would never ask for it because that would force him to admit that he was a shit husband and father.
I had horrible role models when it came to healthy, functional relationships. What did I know about being a good dad or partner? Not a goddamn thing.
Was I willing to learn?
For Lena, I thought so.
But I was crippled by feelings of inadequacy, that no matter what I did, I’d screw everything up. I wouldn’t be able to live knowing I had messed up my kid’s life the way my dad had messed up mine.
Rob lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. I think this is something you’re going to have to figure out on your own. But I’m going to tell you to not be so hard on yourself.”
I laughed without humor. “You’re probably the only person in Southport who would say that right now.”
“Probably. But I know you, Wyatt, and you’re not a bad guy. A misguided guy, sure, but definitely not a bad guy. And you love Lena. I can see that. Give Adam time, he’ll see that too.” Rob sounded so sure. I had never appreciated his friendship until that very moment. He didn’t say much, choosing to stay out of the fray. But when he spoke, his words mattered. “And take it from someone who knows, living a lie wears on your soul. It’s always better to be honest with the people you care about.”
“Do you want me to ask what you mean by that?”
“Nope,” was all he said.
I nodded. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it. And the lift home.”
“Anytime.”
Rob was right, I was going to have to figure this one out on my own.
I only hoped it wasn’t too late.
Chapter 18
Jeremy
My life felt like it was at a standstill.
It was the end of the year; I had no cases on the docket until the new year, so I had days with nothing to do.
Not wanting to face Adam or Lena, I took some time off, cashing in vacation time I never used. I had been holding on to that time to use on a trip to Cancun or something but avoiding the Ducates seemed like a better idea than a sun-filled holiday.
I knew I needed to talk to Lena. She had left the Christmas party with the idea firmly implanted in her mind that I wanted nothing to do with being a father. And while the concept unleashed waves of fresh horror every time I thought about it, I knew I had to speak with her. I should have asked how she was feeling. What she wanted to do about it. Instead, I had gone home with my tail tucked firmly between my legs and gone into hiding.
What was she going to do about the pregnancy? That was the most important question.
Ultimately it was her choice. I was enough of a new age guy to know that while my opinion mattered, it was her body, her decision. And whatever she wanted, I was behind her 100%.
So why hadn’t I rushed over to her place and tell her that? To beg for her forgiveness and to assure her, emphatically, that I would support her?
