Page 88 of Seein’ Red

“What?”

It’s a stupid question—I am aware. But it’s the only thing I can think of to respond.

Willa squints right back at me, leveling me with a look that tells me exactly where her patience level is with me—gone. Something changed in that bathroom and I have no idea what.

“My period showed up,” she replies, her sass in full swing. Said sass does little to mask the pain I see flash in her eyes though. Pain that makes my own insides hurt. “You’re off the hook.”

Off the hook…what is she talking about?!

“It does that?”

The response stumbles out of me, like marbles tumbling out of a bag, and instantly I know that I just outdid my own stupid.

I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut.

“Yes, Nash,” she snaps, hands flying to her hips. “That’s the whole point of a period, to alert one to the fact that they are not pregnant. It’s literally the epitome of a meeting that could have been an email.”

I bite back a laugh at her analogy, knowing that she doesn’t mean it as a joke. Even if she does nail the delivery. Instead, I focus on her. On the hurt I know she’s feeling but refuses to show.

“I know that much. I just thought that…”

What did I think? For as much as I thought I knew about the inner workings of this process, the last week has proven to me I know very little past health class basics. Meaning if Willa says she’s not pregnant, then she’s not.

“So, no baby then.”

My heart sinks as I say the words, the reality of it crashing down around me. Was the prospect of parenthood forcing itself on us scary? Sure as fuck was. But that didn’t matter, because I had her. She is what matters. Finally being on the same page and having Willa understand that she is all I care about. As long as I have her, the rest will fall into place.

“Nope.”

She pops the p like a balloon hitting a nail, the sound echoing in my brain, sending an unwelcome chill down my spine. Hurt wafts over her again briefly, a pang dancing across her gaze for a split second, gone so fast you’d never notice it if you weren’t looking.

But I was looking. I saw it.

I reach out, wrapping my arms around her, drawing her into me. I want nothing more than to hold her—to take this pain away. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I⁠—”

“Don’t you baby me!”

Willa shoves me away—hard—both her hands on my chest. I recoil, taken aback by her anger. The sudden change in emotion has my head spinning, and I don’t know what to do.

“Willa,” I try again. “Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I told you, you’re off the hook.”

She sidesteps me, but I catch her arm, stopping her.

“I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“Are you really going to play stupid right now?” she snaps. “My period showed; I’m not pregnant. You don’t have to pretend that this is what you want.” Gesturing between us, she raises her eyebrows, making it perfectly clear that she doesn’t just mean the lack of pregnancy, but us.

Except, this is exactly what I want. I want us.

I need to tell her that.

“Baby, you’re upset, I understand. You have the right to be. If you want a baby, we can make a baby. We’re damn good at⁠—”

“Gaaaah!” Willa shrieks, yanking her arm away from me, pushing me as she does so. “I don’t want a fucking baby, Nash! Especially with you!”

Her voice is loud enough that I’m sure it can be heard throughout all of Hickory Hills. People on the outskirts of town are picking up their phones and activating the phone tree to verify the news. I don’t have to turn around to know that the whole bar stopped, all our friends staring at us. I do anyway though, my gaze following Willa as she walks away from me.