She reaches into her purse and pulls out my pregnancy test.
Fuck.
Run. Run. Run.
My breathing picks up. My heart feels like it’s made of lead. No.
“She expected money. For your medical bills. Prenatal vitamins. Even asked for new living accommodations now that her daughter was carrying the grandchild of the mayor.”
I meet her cold brown eyes. “I don’t want any of that. I promise. I haven’t even told Everett yet.” My hands are shaking as I run them down my pants over and over.
“Don’t worry. I met him after school today. I told him.” She smirks proudly.
That heart that was filled with lead finally drops.
“What?” It's a whisper, a plea.Please be lying.
“I couldn’t keep it from him. I had to. I couldn’t let him handle this problem on his own.”
Problem? Is she referring to me or our baby? She pulls out a checkbook, and the click of her pen makes me flinch. “How much?”
“Excuse me?” My eyes shoot to hers.
“How much to take care of your…predicament.”
“My predicament?” My brows pull in. I’m utterly confused at her meaning until it clicks. I feel a fury in my chest I’ve never known. A protectiveness riles inside of me just thinking about what she is insinuating.
“Don’t be selfish, Leora. A baby will ruin Everett’s life. You said you wanted what's best for him. So how much?”
“I’m not getting an abortion.” I glance toward Ski, who has his eyes on us, but he is too far to hear, especially over the grinder and espresso machine.
“Fine. Then how much to run?”
“Run?”
“Yes. Leave and never come back. Never speak to or come into contact with Everett ever again. Five thousand? Ten?”
Holy shit. That’s a lot of money to someone like me, but I don’t for a second even consider it. No amount of money in the world could get me to run from Everett. Is she insane?
“I don’t want your money. Everett and I will talk about this and come up with a plan on our own. It’s between us.”
Putting her checkbook away and pulling an envelope from her Chanel bag, she sneers, “Fine. I didn’t want to have to do this. But I tried the easy way.”
Yeah, because asking me to abort my unborn child was the easy way? I kept that comment to myself, but I wish I hadn’t.
“When I told Everett about the baby, he was distraught. He was beside himself about what he would do. But he decided. He doesn’t want you or the baby. He loves you, or so he says, but it’s too much in his life right now. He wouldn’t be able to have the success he deserves. But his sweet heart couldn’t stand having to tell you to your face, so he wrote you this.”
She hands me the note.
No. She’s lying.
My heart is aching. There is no way. She must have forged this. He wouldn’t.
But when I open it, it’s his handwriting. I could pick his chicken scratch handwriting out of millions of letters.
“I’m truly sorry you have not gotten what you wanted in life, Leora. But don’t drag my son down with you. Run and never look back.”
She gets up, straightens her dress with her perfectly manicured hands, and leaves.
