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She’s a lot like my mother, sadly.
She waves her arms. “Well, none of those things happened. You and me happened. And I don’t know what to say, Austin, except that I fucked up and I’m sorry, and besides that - there’s a baby involved. My mother won’t get out of bed; she’s that worried about me, my dad’s burning a hole in his stomach lining with worry and that’s my fault, so I’m here trying to make it right.”
“You need to go. You came here uninvited, got in the middle of an important conversation, and this conversation is over.”
“You’re rushing me out to get back to low budget Taylor? Please.” She rolls her eyes.
And I want to tell her to shut up. Because not once have I looked at Jada and thought about Taylor. Not even once. And there’s nothing low-class about Jada whatsoever.
“She looks like she came from the bargain bin instead of the top shelf.”
“You’re not real good at groveling, are you, Sienna? Say another bad word about Jada and you’ll regret it.”
She covers her eyes and sighs dramatically.
“You need to leave,” I tell her.
“Will you think about what I’ve said? Even if you stay mad, I know you’re not the kind of guy to make me give birth in prison. Whether it’s your baby or not, and believe me Austin, I’m sure that it is, I know you’re a better person than me and if you do this, your child will be born to parents who are no better than one another. Be better than me.”
“Go.”
“Will you think about it?”
“If I say yeah, will you go?”
“If you mean it.”
“I mean go.”
“If you mean you’ll think about it.”
“Fine. Bye.” I wave toward the hallway.
She grabs her bag and coat and then leans in.
“I’m sorry. I fucked up. And I really, really like you. I think it’d be awesome to raise a kid with you. If you’re not down with that, fine, but I’ve always sworn I’m gonna be a way better mom than mine was, than yours is, and I can only do that if I’m not in prison for making a stupid decision because I was drunk and heartbroken.”
She turns and leaves.
Fuck, I do not want to raise a kid with her. Not at fucking all.
I stand there a minute thinking about the possibility of it with sickness brewing in my gut.
And then I head down the hall and find Jada sitting in my bed, cross-legged, looking at her phone.
I close the door behind myself.
“I’m sorry about that.”
She shakes her head. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. Did you hear any of that?”
She shakes her head. “No. I probably would’ve if you’d put me in my bed instead of yours, but no. I didn’t put my ear to the door, either.”
Maybe it would make things easier if she had heard.
She sighs. “No. You’re right, it’s actually not fine for you to act like you’re Tarzan and I’m Jane, but it’s fine that you needed to talk to her. I want to go now. I’m not sure why you asked me to come here, and dinner was a nice gesture, but Austin, we need to keep things strictly professional.”
“No,” I say.
She shakes her head.
“Uh, yeah, we do. I’m not built for sexy role-playing games with my unattainable boss.”
“Why am I unattainable? I’m right here, wanting to have dinner with you and it’s you that’s trying to leave.”
“Emotionally unattainable,” she says.
“I don’t want to be,” I tell her with a hundred per cent honesty.
“Well, it’s too bad that you are. Because you are. And I have to go.”
She gets up and I block her.
“Austin, for real. You’ve got that full plate, so have I. We’re not simpatico.”
“No? What makes you say that?” I ask.
“Ugh. I’m leaving.”
“Why won’t you answer me?” I push.
“Why is it up to me?” she demands.
I swallow as she waits, as her eyes bore into me, searching my face. What’s she searching for? Truth? Authenticity?
Her mouth twists with disappointment and she throws her hands up in the air. “You’re completely closed off. You invited me here and want me to do all the talking. You might not be doing it just to keep playing this game with us, but I’m of the belief that someone backed into a corner feeling an ultimatum is either going to pick the easier road for themselves or they’re going to resent the person giving them the ultimatum eventually because they were forced to take a harder road. I’m not built for what you want me for but for some reason you want to pretend you’re flexible, but you’re just going to eventually get tired of this and then I’m the one getting hurt, so no. I’m saving us both a lot of trouble here. There’s no ultimatum, no nothing. We’re just – we have to keep it professional.”
