Ben makes a face. “I thought I heard about something like that recently. I didn’t want to make assumptions, though.”
“Don’t worry about it. It was a long time coming, and honestly? We’re both better off, him much more than me.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t say that. You’re a smart, beautiful woman. I’m sure Lucas is missing out on something special.”
I grin at him. “I appreciate that. I do.” My brow furrows. “Hey, what do you know about this Hannah chick who’s living with him now? I mean, we might not be dating anymore, but it feels…”
“Hannah’s a gem,” Ben says. “If there’s one thing you don’t have to worry about when it comes to what’s going on in this town, it’s her.”
I nod, feeling a little relieved, even though it doesn’t make sense. I mean, maybe it does make sense. I doubt I’ll ever stop caring about Lucas. We were together for a long time, and the last thing I’d ever want is for him to be taken advantage of.
Not like how I took advantage of him.
Wincing, I push that thought aside.
“So what brings you home?” Ben asks, settling back in his chair, his arm hanging casually along the railing that lines the edge of the deck.
Then for some reason, I’m overcome with the desire to tell someone. The only person who knows about this baby right now is Lucas, and it shouldn’t be a secret that belongs to him.
“I’m, uh…I’m pregnant.”
It takes a moment for my words to hit their intended target, but when they do, Ben’s face becomes like thunder. “Did he fucking break up with you because you’re pregnant?”
“No,” I say, my voice hushed. I put a hand on his. “But thank you for being outraged on my behalf.” Then I shake my head. “No, the baby isn’t his, and the dad’s not involved. It’s a shitshow. Or, it’sgonnabe one once I tell my parents.” I sigh, place my face in my hands. “They’re going to murder me. So, if you find out I mysteriously passed away in the next few days, make sure to tell the police, alright?” I laugh, but it’s awkward, and Ben doesn’t follow my lead.
“Is it really going to be a huge problem?” he asks, resting his forearms against the edge of the table, his hands steepled together.
I nod. “Yeah. Super traditional Colombian mom, Republican dad.” I shrug. “But it’ll all work out, you know? They’ll probably just disown me so they don’t have to face the ‘public ridicule’.” I roll my eyes. “They seriously act like we live in the 1600s.”
I take a sip of my club soda, wishing it were vodka instead. Wishing it wereanytype of alcohol.
It seems unfair that pregnant women can’t drink when honestly, finding out about pregnancy is fucking stressful and deserves at least a shot or two.
I look back at Ben, who is watching me with something contemplative in his eyes.
“What?”
He takes a while to answer, and when he does, he leans really close, speaking to me in an almost whisper.
“I have an idea.”
“Oh yeah?” I whisper back, tilting my face in so it’s close to his. “What’s that?”
And then he says something to me that I never would have predicted in a million years.
“We should get married.”
