He runs a hand down his face. “Violet, do you understand—”
His jaw sets and he shakes his head and downs the last of his beer. The bottle clinks on the wood. I want to tell him how unreal it still feels that I woke up this morning and a splatter of pink on a flimsy strip changed every cell in my body, that part of me is still convinced the doctor was wrong. I want him to say, “It’s okay. We’ll get through this,” because I don’t know what else will help right now.
Instead, he steps down onto the lawn, claps his hands and paces. “We had a plan. I got clean. Slowly working on Amber, and we were going to take it slow. How does this happen?”
“Stop it.” I hear the crack in my own voice. “You think this is all on me? Like you don’t have any part in it?”
That stops him. He stands with his back to me, fists jammed in his pockets, then spins and fixes me with a stare. “You know what I mean. Jesus, Vi.”
“Don’t call me that,” I say, quieter than I mean to, but it comes out anyway.
He walks back up to me. “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. But it is clear you don’t want it.”
“I never fucking said that, don’t put words into my mouth. I just don’t want to screw this up again. I’m fucking terrified, okay? That’s all I am, all the time, and now—now it’s happening again and—” He cuts off, teeth clamped so hard I can see the vein twitching in his neck.
This is going to get out of hand, and I don’t want it to, so I wipe my face with the heel of my palm and stand, walking down the steps towards my car. Travis calls my name, his voice thick with confusion. I don’t answer. I don’t look back.
I don’t know what to do right now.
I really don’t.
Travis
The neon glow of the backstage bar slants across the metal countertop as I pour another shot of cheap bourbon. I knock it back, the burn settling in my chest.
“Violet’s pregnant,” I say, voice rough.
Harley, who is leaning against the bar with a shot in his hand, pauses and his brows shoot up. “Well fuck, brother. You two don’t waste any time. It’s a good thing, right?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I didn’t handle it real well.”
Harley taps ash from his cigarette into an empty glass. “Maybe it’s what you two need.”
I snort, taking another shot. “I was a dick to her. Poor girl looked like hell when I saw her last.”
“You were blindsided,” Harley says, voice low. “We don’t always react how we should. She’ll forgive you. She always does.”
I stare at the floor. “I don’t know if I can be a dad again. I just got clean, man.”
Harley nods, exhaling smoke. “You’ll be fine. Hell, you’ve got even more reason to stay that way now. You already have a kid, man, what’s another one?”
I shoot him a look. “We just got into a good place, and even then, it’s still rocky at times...”
“That’s what this is really about,” Harley interrupts. “You’re scared she’ll walk out again, and this time it’ll kill you.”
“She has a baby in her, that is going to change everything. I don’t know if I could handle her leaving, and taking my child, too. It was hard enough losing her...”
He steps closer. “I don’t think she’s going anywhere. You broke her heart before—yeah—but she still believes in you. She’s crazy about you, Travis.”
I trace a line in the condensation on my bottle. “Yeah but being a mother makes them see things differently.”
“Maybe, but she made the choice to stay, to be with you. She’s tougher now, and she’s sure. You two have been through shit most couples never see.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”
Harley smirks. “Of course I fucking am. Now get your ass back home and make this right.”
