Page 89 of One Hot Fake


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I was emotionally weak after believing that I was pregnant and finding out that I wasn’t. I miss Declan terribly, but I’ve accepted that our foundation was too shaky to begin with. To access a trust fund and to get a baby are probably not the best reasons to get married.

I wait in the reception for the pregnancy test results, and after fifteen minutes, I’m back in the doctor’s office.

She grins broadly. “Marian, the blood test shows that you are pregnant.”

I go very still and just stare at her. When I finally get my power of speech back, I whisper, “Really?”

She nods. “Really.”

I cover my mouth with my hands. Tears fill my eyes. An emotion that I cannot describe fills my chest. I’m pregnant! My hands drop to my still flat tummy.

“Congratulations,” Dr. Ross says. “I’ll fill out a prescription for you for folic acid and a few vitamins, and you can go and tell that handsome husband of yours.”

Declan, Oh my God. I have to tell him that he’s going to be a dad. It doesn’t matter that we’re not together. I want us to co-parent. Declan will be a wonderful dad. A pang of sadness comes over me. I remind myself that I have the one thing that made me marry a total stranger in Vegas. I have a baby growing in my stomach. I don’t need anything else. I leave the clinic after grabbing my vitamins and folic acid. In the car, I fish my phone out and text Declan.

Are you free to meet up today? We need to talk.

I hit send and start the car. I drive back to the office and whistle all the way. I alternate between whistling and bursting into tears. Happy tears. When I get to my office and settle down at my desk, I find a message from Declan.

Sure. Lunch today at First Bar?

His words bring fresh tears to my eyes. Who am I kidding? I miss him with every fiber of my being. I miss having breakfast, lunch, and dinner with Declan. I miss knowing that he’s waiting for me at the end of the day. I miss him in my bed. I miss making love with him. I miss his strength and his wisdom. I text him back and confirm the lunch date.

As lunch nears, my nervousness kicks up a notch. What if he’s not interested in co-parenting with me? Then I’ll raise my baby alone. I started a business from scratch and built it up into something beautiful. Surely, I can raise a baby alone.

Unable to bear waiting, I leave the office a little early and drive to Second Street. My heart raps against my ribs, ringing in my ears. Declan and I planned to meet at twelve-thirty, and now it’s noon. The bar is pretty empty, apart from Harry and Keane from the fire station.

I wave at them and at Jim, who is behind the counter. I choose a table at the back, which has a bit of privacy. A waiter comes to take my order, and I ask for a bottle of water.

I’m glad I’ve come early. I sift through every possible scenario with Declan. My telling him about the baby is a matter of courtesy. I don’t expect or want anything from him, but it would be nice to have his name on the birth certificate.

I thought I was ready for him, but when Declan walks in, I feel as if all the air has been knocked from me. He stands at the counter to chat with Jim and Marcus. He’s in the company T-shirt and a pair of jeans that look as if they were custom-designed for him.

My heart flutters like mad when he turns my way, and our gazes meet. The world stops. He says something to Jim and then moves toward me. It’s a good thing that I’m seated. No way would my legs support me.

“Hey,” he says and then pulls a chair and sits down opposite me. Disappointment, hurt, pain, more hurt … settle in my chest. I’d expected, at the very least, a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi,” I manage to say.

We sit staring at each other like two people who are meeting for the first time. I want to scream at him. Do you remember waking up naked together? Do you remember telling me that you love me? Was any of that real?

I force myself back to the present. I’m a step away from bursting into tears and making a fool of myself.

“How are your mom and Josh’s wedding plans going?” Declan asks.

“Pretty good. Did you get your invite?” I ask him.

“I did, yeah.”

He stops there and doesn’t confirm whether or not he’ll attend. It doesn’t matter to me.

“So, it goes without saying that we’ve reached the end of this road,” Declan says.

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