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Seeing my reaction, he sighed and took a step toward me, “That’s not what I meant.”
I saw he was about to say something more, but I simply didn’t want to hear. Not right now, at least. Raising my hand, I stopped him and said, “This is just like last time, Conner. Everything was fine, we were happy, and then my Dad showed up, and you blew me off like one of those bimbos from Rusty’s. I don’t deserve to be hurt like that, and I won’t let you do it to me again.”
With my heart in my hand, I looked away from Conner and took a deep breath to level my vo
ice and calm the raging pain in my stomach. “So, I think you should go away and think about what you want to do and who you can’t live without. I don’t want to be your secret. Either you’re in this with me, and we’ll face my Dad together, or you’re out.”
As much as I hate to admit this, there was a part of me that expected Conner to hear my ultimatum and say that he didn’t need to think, that he knew I was the one he couldn’t live without. I imagined him kissing me afterward and holding my hand as we walked into my Dad’s house for dinner tonight. After so many years loving him in silence, I wanted him to say he loved me too and fight for me. I wanted to feel like I was his world as much as he was mine.
But those were just fantasies of a young and naïve girl.
The reality was that after hearing my words, Conner didn’t say anything. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t comfort me. He simply turned around and walked away.
Once the office door closed behind him, and the proverbial shit hit the proverbial fan. A sadness like nothing I’d ever known descended on my and turned my stomach sour. I reached for the trash can at the side of my desk and emptied my breakfast into it.
I puked and heaved until my body was tired and aching. Then, I released the metal can and fell onto my chair feeling completely gutted and humiliated. I cried for a long time before I finally decided that no one, no matter how special they were or how good they made me feel, should have enough power over me to make me feel this way ever again.
Empowered by that thought, I wiped my tears, straightened my back, and reached inside my purse for my makeup and toiletry bag. I opened the lilac pouch and looked inside in search for my toothbrush and concealer, but instead, my eyes feel on the unopened container of tampons.
With a pounding heart, a racing mind, and shaking hands, I looked at my desk calendar and then closed my eyes as tried to convince myself that this was just a dream. I wasn’t seven days late for the first time in my life, and that my life wasn’t as sucky as it currently seamed. Unfortunately, as I opened my eyes the box was still there, and the date was the same.
Barely aware that I was moving, I put everything back in my purse, grabbed my car keys, and exited my office. I told the girls at reception I’d be right back and ignored their concerns about my running mascara as I rushed out the doors and toward my Jeep.
A single thought ran on a loop in my head raced toward the closest drugstore. Please, please, let me not be pregnant.
CHAPTER TWELVE — CONNER
“Why are we taking flowers to Alex?” Lucas asked me amused from the backseat.
From the rearview mirror, I looked at him holding a bouquet of red roses and smiled. “They’re not for Alex. They’re for Chloe.”
My son narrowed his eyes at me and laughed. In his teasing voice, she asked, “Why? Are you her boyfriend?”
I chuckled at the question. Honestly, I wanted to reply yes—which was surprising as hell to me—but after the shitty way I left things at Chloe’s office that morning I just didn’t know where we stood. Also, Lucas was a blabbermouth and could not be trusted with such information until I had a chance to talk to Chloe and figure out what to do.
Still, I couldn’t help but gauge what his reaction would be. “Would it upset you if I was?”
Lucas’ eyes widened, and his smile tripled. “I love Chloe, she’s great and funny and plays video games better than you.” He took a small pause in which I laughed at his justifiable dig at me, then added, “Also, having a mom wouldn’t suck. I like Sasha, but a nanny isn’t the same thing as a mom.”
My heart ached so much for him I almost told him the truth, but I couldn’t. Not yet. I couldn’t promise him a mother before I knew if I even had a girl anymore.
“No, it isn’t buddy,” I agreed.
There was a heavy silence in the truck for about a second, then he pressed, “So . . . Are you her boyfriend?”
I laughed. “I don’t know Lucas,” I answered honestly. Knowing a follow-up question was coming, I added, “And before you ask, I’m bringing flowers because it’s polite when visiting a lady’s home. Remember that, and all the little girls and their mothers will love you.”
“Ewww, Dad!” he protested as I pulled into Alex’s driveway.
Laughing despite my buzzing nerves, I got out of the car and walked around to open his door. No longer needing my help, he unbuckled his seatbelt, jumped out, and set off running toward his godfather who was waiting at the front door. I rolled my eyes at the boy’s endless enthusiasm, picked up the flowers and beer from the seat, and followed my son.
“These are for you,” I said after greeting my friend.
His right brow arched. “You brought me flowers?”
Once more, I rolled my eyes. “The other hand, asshole. Damn flowers are for Chloe.”
“It’s polite to bring flowers to a lady’s home,” Lucas repeated like a freaking parrot. “If you remember that, girls and their moms will love ya.”
