“She’s carrying small,” Tanner says. “But it’s there. You just weren’t looking.”
I wasn’t. I was too damn focused on the curve of her smile, the way she seemed so incredibly grateful for the small amount of work I did for her. I also didn’t miss the fire in her eyes when she talked about rebuilding that bakery. I saw her. But I didn’t see her.
“I mean… she hasn’t got a big belly or anything,” I mutter, feeling like a complete idiot. But I’ve never been around pregnant women. No sisters. No mom. No clue. Tanner and Victoria have a kid, and I saw her belly, but she was waddling for weeks, though. Savannah is the opposite, up and down ladders, painting, baking. Not a waddle in sight.
“Women all present differently. Lacy was always on the go with our little one.” Hudson grins, happier than ever with his little family of four.
“Victoria ate her way through her last trimester. I had to fly in so many fucking burgers and chocolate layer cakes from New York it was almost embarrassing.” Tanner rubs his eyes, and I still sit there, dumbfounded.
“How did I not see it?” I shake my head, upset with myself that I didn’t work it out.
Tanner's gaze sharpens. “She’s a single mom-to-be, who’s doing that bakery all on her own. Why did you think I called you in to help?”
“Fuck…” I scrub my face before I grab my glass and down the whole thing.
“Did you sign her up to the prenatal program?” Tanner looks at Hudson and I watch them both.
“You know I can’t tell you that. Don’t worry though, I’m taking good care of her.” Hudson nods, confirming Tanners thoughts without saying as such.
“Prenatal program?” I have no idea what they’re talking about.
“Hudson and I have jointly funded a program here in Whispers for women who are pregnant,” Tanner tells me. Of course he has. Giving back to this town is one of his biggest jobs, I’m sure.
I nod, but I’m not hearing them anymore. My mind is spinning. She’s pregnant. She’s working herself into the ground. And I’ve been standing there like some dumb bastard, eating her cardboard cheese pies and pretending I wasn’t affected by her.
“The father?” I ask, wondering if I want to know.
“Not in the picture.” Hudson is careful with his words.
I grip the edge of the table, knuckles white, that old, familiar rage stirring. The kind I’d buried deep, the kind that came from years of watching people walk away from their responsibilities. From kids who deserved better. From me.
I’d seen it too many times in the system. Fathers who vanished. Mothers who gave up. Promises broken before they were ever made. I bounced around from home to home, not one adult giving a shit about anything other than the paycheck I could provide them. It’s a miracle I’m still alive, really. Hit my mid-teens and found a life of petty crime, until one night, a foster father came home drunk, just like my bio dad used to, and started hitting the younger kids in his care. All I saw that night was red. I was their only hope of protection, and I made sure I didn’t miss. Thankfully, I knocked him out; otherwise, I would’ve killed him. A short stint in juvie helped me get on the right path, and I never went back to that house. I have no idea what happened to him, and I don’t care.
“Griff.” Tanner’s voice is quiet but firm. “You okay?”
“I don’t get it. How does someone just leave her like that? How does someone know she’s carrying their kid and not show up?” The feelings of abandonment I carry surface like a tidal wave. Scars from my fear of getting close to someone, just for them to be ripped away. This is why I work constantly or have my head in puzzles and crosswords. If I relax too much, if I get too close to people, I’ll unravel.
Tanner doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to.
“She’s weeks away from having a baby,” I say, more to myself than them. “And she’s lifting heavy boxes, painting walls, walking upstairs, ladders, up early, finishing late.” I grab the bottle of whiskey in the middle of the table and pour another glass. One which I down as fast as the first.
Hudson shifts beside me, but Tanner keeps his eyes on me.
“Well, the town is ready to support her, and I appreciate all the work you’re doing to help her get up and running.” Tanner nods to me, his words not putting me at ease.
I need to go. I need space to think. I haven’t felt this mix of emotions in a long time.
“I gotta go.” I stand abruptly, the chair squealing on the timber floor.
“You alright?” Tanner leans back, looking at me. Hudson's gaze is assessing as well.
“Fine. I had a few big days, and I need to sleep.” Grabbing my jacket, I say a quick goodbye and stride out of the bar like it’s on fire.
I slam my door as I jump in my truck. My hands grip the steering wheel tight as my breathing becomes labored.
“This is bullshit…” I grit out to myself, hating that I get so worked up about this.
My past feels like it’s wrapping itself around my chest, heavy, black, and miserable. The raw feeling of being left alone, of being scared, unable to depend on anyone. I know what it’s like to have no support, no genuine care. No love. It fucking enrages me that, even all these years later, there’s still asshole parents in this world. A man who would leave his baby. Leaves the mother of his child alone, without help, without love.
