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“What?”
With her arms crossed in front of her stomach, she appears small as she looks at me with dark circles under her eyes. “I’m pregnant, Ryan.”
Well, I did hear correctly.
Fuck.
I shake my head. This is . . . No. Impossible. “We used condoms.”
“I know. I googled condom failure in case you’re interested. It’s a lot worse than I thought. Apparently, only three percent of condoms truly fail and result in pregnancy. But if you include condoms that break or come off, or lubricant making them unusable, the number skyrockets to fourteen percent.”
My eyebrows shoot up.
Harper nods. “I agree. I think I might be done relying on only condoms after knowing those numbers. Not that I think I’m going to have sex anytime soon again anyway, but yeah . . .”
Rubbing my forehead, I try to sift through the fog that’s currently occupying my brain. “And you’re sure it’s mine?”
I cringe the second the words are out of my mouth, knowing how bad they sound, but it’s something I have to know. “Sorry.”
She holds up one of her hands and shakes her head. “No, I completely understand. I’d want to know too. But yes, I’m sure it’s yours. You’re the only man I’ve been with since my husband.”
Closing my eyes, I summon a deep breath and hold it in.
I got her pregnant. I’m going to be a dad.
There’s a buzz somewhere in my head, and I can’t get it to shut up.
You’re going to be a dad.
You’re going to be responsible for another human being for the rest of your life.
How the hell is all of this supposed to fit into my life?
This is the stuff you see in movies or hear about when it happens to others and always think that something like that would never happen to you.
And now it has. And it feels completely surreal. Did I imagine Harper saying those words?
The buzzing finally quiets down which allows my brain to kick back in. It allows for the rest of her words to register, and my gaze snaps back to hers. “Did you just say you’re married?”
Her eyes bulge, and her mouth falls open. “What? Oh no, goodness. No, no. I’m divorced.”
“Divorced?”
Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink as she presses her lips together and nods. “Yeah.”
“How long have you been divorced?”
The flush deepens, distracting me for a moment until she answers.
“The divorce was finalized in December, but we’ve been separated since last spring.”
“Sorry for being so direct.”
This time, she holds up both hands. “I totally get it. I know all of this is a shock, believe me.” Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and she watches me. “Can I ask you something too?”
Rubbing my hands together, I nod. It’s only fair. “Of course.”
“Mmm . . . you don’t have a girlfriend or wife or anything, right?”
