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I couldn’t stomach the thought of getting rid of a baby, but I also wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I brought a life into that house. I kept thinking I could just run away, and then I was positive that’s exactly what I was going to do . . . until I remembered the failed attempt before. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I was ready to scream, “I can’t have a baby!” to the next person who spoke to me.
My purse vibrated, and my shaking paused for only a second before growing more intense . . . because I also had no idea what I was going to do about that. Seeing how I was holding my cell phone in my hand, I knew the cause of the vibration was Knox’s phone. Just before I’d left, I’d run out to the back porch to grab it, telling myself “Just in case,” but still hadn’t responded to the few messages he’d sent since Friday because I didn’t know what to say to him. I knew Knox was worrying and I didn’t want him to, but I felt like I’d betrayed him. How was I supposed to tell him I was pregnant?
That thought made me roll my eyes for the hundredth time. It couldn’t be any more backward. Not knowing how to tell an old love that I was pregnant with my husband’s baby . . . but even before Knox fell back into my life, I’d felt like I still belonged to him, not Collin. So the guilt I felt over the current situation was making it so hard to let him know that I was fine . . . because I was the furthest thing from fine.
Reaching into my purse, I pulled out the phone and opened up the texts.
Friday
Knox: Always.
Knox: I’m at work until Sunday afternoon. But if you need me, I’m here.
Yesterday
Knox: I’ve never hated a weekend more. Keep yourself safe.
Today
Knox: Low . . . I’m pretty sure that week you “bought” is up. I won’t ask details, but I need to know that you’re okay.
Looking at the time on the phone, I thought about how long I would have after this appointment before I needed to get to the grocery store and get home to cook dinner. As long as I was pregnant, Collin wouldn’t touch me, and Knox needed to know that I would be safe so he wasn’t constantly worrying about me. But this wasn’t something I could tell him through a text or over the phone. I’d already ruined him once with a phone call; I wasn’t about to do it again.
Tapping out a message to him, I sent it and went back to shaking and trying to be invisible to the other women in the waiting room.
Harlow: I’m fine. But I need to talk to you, it’s important. Can you meet me today?
Less than a minute later, the secret phone was vibrating in my hand, but it wasn’t a message like I’d been expecting. I tapped the screen and brought the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
Fall 2010—Walla Walla
“ONE OF THESE days my roommate is going to come back when you’re in here and I’m going to be in so much trouble.”
Collin laughed huskily and made a slow trail up my stomach with his lips. “Because I’m in your bed? Doubtful.”
I pushed at his chest when he moved over me, but pulled him back to kiss me. “Because you’re naked in my bed,” I corrected against his mouth. “There’s a difference.”
“Maybe she’ll enjoy the view,” he offered.
I scoffed and rolled my eyes.
“Kidding, Harlow.” With another lingering kiss, he pushed away from me and jumped off my bed. “As much as I want to stay in bed with you all afternoon, I need to go take a test.”
I grumbled, but followed him off the bed and started grabbing my clothes when he did.
Collin grabbed me from behind when I bent over to put my underwear back on, and pressed me against his chest. “Well, if you keep teasing me, maybe I’ll just take the F.”
I laughed and elbowed him gently in the stomach. “I’m just getting dressed. And you’re too smart to fail a test! Get dressed so you can go.” I laughed again when he nipped at my neck, but my laughter ended with a gasp when Collin’s hand appeared in front of me. A deep red box with gold designs sat in the palm of his hand.
“Collin,” I breathed, and shook my head.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” he said laughing.
I was still shaking my head as I reached for the box; my unsteady hands fumbled to open it. I sucked in another quick gasp when I looked at the necklace inside. “Collin, no. I can’t.”
The necklace matched the bracelet currently hanging from my wrist. A thin chain led to a large, circle pendant with six diamonds lining the white gold. I’d looked up my bracelet on the Cartier website . . . it was more than two thousand dollars. This necklace had to be at least twice as much.
