Page 153 of Death is Familiar

“What? I know this sounds crazy, Jack, and I feel just as crazy saying it out loud.”

“You’re not crazy.” He shook his head. “It’s not that.”

“Then, what?”

“Don’t hate me.” What? He drew himself a half-step back, drawing in a deep breath before whispering, “the condom broke.”

The tempest was back. Anger and relief and grief and betrayal. “WHAT?”

“It broke.”

Apparently, I settled on anger as I gave him a smack to his broad chest. “And you didn’t think to tell me?!”

“We just got you back!” He took another smack to his chest like a champ. “But I didn't think anything of it given⁠—”

“You should have told me right away. I could have taken precautions, got the morning-after pill, something! At the very least it would have made sense!” I smacked him on the chest between each of my next words, “I. FELT. LIKE. I. WAS. CRAZY!”

“Delilah, I’m sorry⁠—”

“Sorry?” The wind picked up, the rain pelted my face, but all I felt was rage. “Infertile or not, you always let someone know if that happens!”

“I know. You’re right. I should have, and I meant to, Delilah, but when Fawzy and Thruppy showed up, things snowballed, and then you were going back in with the Almeidas. I was clean, and I didn’t think⁠—"

“You didn’t think you needed to tell me?” My thoughts churned and writhed, if I wasn’t careful, I was going to unleash a maelstrom there would be no going back from. All he ever wanted was a child of his own, and if he— “Are you even infertile?”

Pain and hurt flashed behind Jack’s eyes. Well, I just jabbed my fingers right into something I knew was an open wound. “I am.”

And kept digging. “Really?”

“Really, really.” He ran a hand over his face and sopping wet hair. “My swimmers are non-functional. Every single one of them, except…” his gaze caressed my stomach, in a way that made the strange fluttering return.

Fury coursed through my veins, but there was nothing else to say other than, “You!”

Jack waited for my scorn, and when my words didn’t come, he took a half-step in my direction. “Me.”

I braced my arms against his chest, but I was losing my fire. “I’m mad at you.”

“Good,” he stepped closer, again, holding my wrists against his chest, “I’m mad at me too.”

“This isn’t me letting you off the hook.”

“I don’t expect you to.” Jack’s grip tightened, the thud, thud, thud, of his heart pulsing beneath my palms. “But can I make something exceedingly clear?”

Whatever it was couldn’t be worse than all of the scenarios I’d already conjured in my mind, so I nodded.

“It is very important to me that you know this decision is yours. Whatever that may be…” He released me, and I slipped a step back. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d be honored beyond belief if I had the privilege of being a father.” A brief upturn of his mouth was quickly schooled into submission. “But I don’t expect you to… I want you to not care what I think. Do what’s right for you.”

The writhing mass of my fury, paused, stuttered, ceased, leaving an unbearable lightness in its wake. I must not have heard him right.

“Whatever you need,” he repeated. “Whatever⁠—"

A sinking-swimming sensation flooded through me. The ground moved, and suddenly I was wrapped in a pair for strong arms, pressed flush to a warm wall of solid muscle.

It was too late for many choices anyway. Despite not yet being at the twenty-four-week mark, the condescending doctor had slapped a ‘fetus viable’ sticker all over my medical records, which even while under a pseudonym, had done something to my psyche.

And though I was loathe to admit it, and the idea of having a child scared me, I’d grown attached to my passenger.

“I need you to figure out a way to keep me out of prison.” I murmured into the crook of his soaking wet dress shirt. “And I’m choosing the name.”