I put the phone in my pocket and head to her car, adjusting the seat before heading home.
My truck is in the driveway, and I pull in beside it. The stress of the day is still weighing on me when I get inside and see she’s not in the kitchen.
“Hello,” I call, bending to untie my boots before kicking them off and tossing her keys on the table at the front door next to her purse. “Collins?”
I don’t hear the shower, but check the bedroom. She’s in the bed, her back to the headboard, and her hands on her stomach. Her face is streaked with tears. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m cramping,” she whispers, trying to control her breathing. “I’ve been cramping for the past hour or so.”
I start to panic. “We need to get you to the hospital. Maybe Dr. Louis is on call.” I expect her to get up, to panic with me, but she just shakes her head side to side.
“There’s no need. I called her.” Her voice is calm, cool, and collected despite the look of worry etched all over her pale face. She looks exhausted.
I close the distance to the bed and sit down on the side. “What did the doctor say?” Fear creeps in, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.
“She said that it’s often due to my uterus expanding, or it can be stress related, and to not worry unless I start bleeding. I’m going to call in sick tomorrow, just to be safe.”
“Stress?” I lift my hand to her face, my thumb catching her tears. “What happened today?”
“What didn’t happen today? My father . . .” She closes her eyes, trying to relax her breathing. I have to calm my own breathing down, or I fear I’ll be sounding like a bull ready to charge. “Theo, there are so many things going on in my life right now, I don’t even know what to do.”
“Well, why don’t you start at the beginning?” I have to keep myself under control and not tear out of here to find her father and beat his ass.
“Okay, let’s start at the beginning. Then this can be done.”
I don’t like the words she’s using, but she has things to get off her chest, so I don’t say anything. Instead, I lean over to put my hand on her hip.
“My parents came to my house a couple of weeks ago to borrow money. Whenever they need money, I’m their personal ATM machine.” I grit my teeth to stop myself from saying or doing anything. I do, however, push my hand deeper into the mattress. “They were asking me questions about you, and I wanted to make sure they stopped, so I wrote them a check for a hundred dollars.”
“Okay.” That doesn’t sound so bad.
“I thought that was it. But then I got a phone call from my landlord.” Her voice quivers. “My house payment check bounced. I was like, that is literally impossible.” She sits up, and I put my hand on hers on her stomach. “Literally impossible. I pay my bills on time. At least the bills I know of.” She lifts a hand, waving it. “So I called the bank, because surely there was a mistake, but nope, no mistake. My parents had stolen a check from me, and my mother forged my signature.” The only thing going through my head is: What a fucking bitch. “They stole a thousand dollars from me.”
“Collins.” I say her name softly. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay.” She shakes her head as a sob rips through her. “It’s never okay. But it’s especially not okay this time because I’m having a baby. I can’t fucking afford to pay for their mistakes anymore.”
“Baby.” I try to calm her down, taking her hands in mine and kissing them.
“I can’t do it anymore.” She silently cries. “I have the baby to think about. I can’t afford this.” The pain in her voice is one I never want to hear again. “Today, my father finds me while I’m on shift to tell me they’re moving into my house.” My blood freezes in my veins as if my heart stopped. “Since, you know, I’m not living there now that I’m here. Oh, and he’s the one who sliced my tires to force you to take care of me.”
“Okay, well, let’s scratch that right off the list,” I quickly chime in. “No one is forcing me to be with you. I want to be with you. If anything, I’m forcing you to be with me.”
“You don’t get it.” She lets go of my hand and wipes her tears. “Those are just the latest examples of how my parents operate. My house, the electricity—he cut through the fucking wires so I’d have to move in with you, and they could either make you give them money or move into my house.” My first thought is: That motherfucker. My second thought is: She knew and she didn’t tell me. That’s one thing we are going to have to discuss, but not right now. “And I’m praying and hoping like fuck the power company doesn’t think I did it, because then they’re going to charge me for the repairs. Why can’t they just leave me fucking be?”
I take her in my arms, and I have to silently curse the two people who made her. “It’s okay.” I rub her back. “I promise you, it will be okay.”
“You can’t promise me that,” she whispers as the cotton from my T-shirt catches her tears. “This is my life. This is what my life is, and these are the cards I’ve been dealt.” I rub her back, not saying a word.
“You’re wrong about that,” I say to her, and she just looks at me. “I would never tell you something that I wouldn’t be able to do, but this I can do. I can promise you that it’ll be okay because I’m going to make sure it’s okay. I’m going to be the one in your corner. Not just in your corner, I’m going to be the one standing in front of you. From now on, they’re going to go through me to get to you.” I watch her, knowing I want to say so much more. But she’s not ready to hear it right now. “You need to relax. You are going to stay in this bed, and you aren’t moving, not a fucking finger.”
“I want to argue with you, but I don’t have anything left in me.” Even without those words, I can tell from her voice that she’s tired.
“What do you want to eat for dinner?” I kiss her neck.
“I don’t care. I need to nap.”
“Okay, so you nap and I’ll go take a shower, and then I’ll cook for you.” She lets go of me and moves to get under the covers. “You going to call in sick now or later?”
