Page 4 of Derecho

“What’s this?” I asked as he jumped down from the cab. It was clearly lifted…and I couldn’t imagine how the hell I’d ever haul myself or the alien into it. My brows pulled together as I looked closer. No, obviously the baby wouldn’t be going in there. He’d brought home a lifted truck with no back seat.

“Did something happen to your truck?” I asked, my fingers digging into my back. It felt like the little creature’s head was pressing right against my hip, and my temper was running short because of it. Greg smiled, tossing the keys up into the air before wrapping his hands around them again as they came back down to Earth.

“No. Why would you think that?”

“Because you left here two days ago for work, decided to spend time at your parents’ place, and now arrived home in the middle of the work day in a vehicle I don’t recognize.”

“It’s not work hours.”

That was how he chose to answer? My stomach rolled with the hatred I felt for ever trusting that he’d keep his word. That he’d prioritize me and our family. “What? What does that mean?”

“I quit. Last week.”

He was joking. This was Greg just being a dick. There was no way…No. There wasn’t a world where he was this selfish. This cruel.

“Explain that to me. You’ve been working for your dad for years. Why would you quit? Why now?”

“I’m going back to school. Heard back from UT Dallas. You know my dad’s been wanting me to pursue my MBA, that’s why he told me to step back from the business. ”

I closed my eyes for a second, face tilted toward the sun—as if its rays and the power of my rage combined might somehow erase everything he’d just told me—before I turned to my idiot fiancé.

“I’m sorry—it just sounded like you said you quit your job to go back to school. When you know I’m about to not be able to work for at least six weeks. We have nothing ready for this baby, Greg. Nothing. You won’t let me buy a crib. You won’t let me buy clothes. You won’t help me get his room ready. What am I supposed to do with this information?”

He shrugged his shoulders, turning to walk back up to the house. “Guess maybe you’ll have to stop doing your cooking thing and go back to your office job. My mom went back to work two weeks after having me, you should have no problem doing that. I mean, how hard is it to sit behind a desk and say, Hi, what time is your appointment?”

“And what am I supposed to do after the baby comes? You know the plan has always been for me to not return to the office.”

“Right. I guess you’ll have to put him in daycare. I don’t know, can’t you figure it out, Lain? You wanted this. Not me.”

I wasn’t even going to dignify that insane statement with a response. “Where are you going?”

“Inside to grab my golf clubs. The guys are teeing off in twenty minutes, and I was going to show them my new truck before we hit the back nine.”

I’d been so pissed about him deciding to quit his job, I’d completely forgotten about the way I was about to explode over the truck in our driveway.

“No.”

“No?” He crossed his arms, challenging me.

“You’re not going golfing. And what do you mean, new truck? Your old truck was perfectly fine. In what world do you get a new truck while I drive around in a car that’s almost as old as I am? The air conditioning is out in it, Greg! Or did you forget that you were meant to take it to get looked at?”

“You can drive with the windows down.” He shrugged.

“You’re so cruel,” I seethed under my breath. “I’m hugely pregnant with your baby, and you just continue to do everything you can to make this a literal nightmare.”

He turned, his hand wrapping around my arm as he yanked me toward the house. “Get inside. I’m not about to have the neighbors gossiping about your hysterics. Even if some of them would just write it off because you’re fucking huge.”

I knew what was coming next. What always came as soon as he started attacking my weight. He was going to list all the things he hated about our relationship. About how I’d trapped him with a baby. Even when I know he doesn’t remember anything about the night he got me pregnant, because he was so drunk and belligerent I knew I couldn’t say no.

The door slammed behind us as I wrenched my arm free from his grasp.

“Don’t even try to make this out like I’m being crazy.”

“Lainey, I’ve had it.”

“You’ve had it? You’ve had it? Why? Your life has been nothing but being waited on and handed everything you could ever want on a silver platter! I’m up at five every morning to cook for my clients, and on top of that, I have to make sure your breakfast and lunch are ready for you. And after I’ve worked all day, I come home and make your dinner—just in case you decide that you’re going to come home after work! Which I never know, because you never let me know when you’ll be staying over in Dallas. And that’s becoming more and more often the closer we get to my due date!”

“If you’re unhappy, then leave. You’d be doing me a fucking favor.”