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“When did you find out?” my boyfriend asks roughly.
Amelia nods, flipping her blonde hair back over one shoulder while adjusting the cushion behind her back.
“Just recently. I missed one period, and that was no big deal. But when I missed two, I decided to take a pregnancy test, and a pink plus sign came up on the indicator. I’m having your child, Dane. It must have happened that last time we were together.”
A shaft of pain lances through my heart because unwittingly, I witnessed the last time they had sex. My stomach convulses and tears come to my eyes. Holy shit.
Dane looks a little green as well.
“But we used protection,” he says in a raspy voice. “I remember.”
Amelia merely shrugs.
“No form of protection is a hundred percent, even when it’s used correctly,” she says. “Even hormonal birth control is only rated at ninety-nine percent.”
I can tell my boyfriend wants to say something, but the only thing to come out of his mouth is a muttered, “Fuck.” His expression is pure agony, and it mirrors what I’m feeling right now. After all, what’s going to happen to our burgeoning relationship now that he’s expecting a child with his ex-wife? It’s like a huge metal door has suddenly been slammed shut, and I can almost hear the ringing finality in my ears.
“Fuck,” he grunts again.
Amelia merely looks vaguely annoyed.
“Don’t say that,” she says. “You’ve always wanted a child, as have I. Of course, this isn’t happening under optimal circumstances, but what’s done is done. We’re expecting a baby.”
Dane looks at her with rage blazing in his eyes.
“Optimal circumstances? Sweetheart, we just got divorced. I’d say these are sub-optimal circumstances, to put it euphemistically.”
The blonde woman merely shrugs while examining her nails.
“It’s going to be fine, Dane. You’re an adult, I’m an adult, and we don’t hate each other. We have the means to make this work.”
Dane jumps up to his feet then, pacing the living room with long, restless strides.
“What the fuck? How the hell can this be happening? We’ve always been so careful because of your fucking career. You never wanted a baby, and now this?”
She shrugs.
“I didn’t ask for it, but don’t even mention a termination because I’m not doing it,” she says flatly.
He spins to face her.
“Of course not,” he growls. “I want my child.”
She nods, looking pleased.
“Of course. I knew you would. I think what would be best is if I moved back here, and we had the baby together. What do you think? It’s best for the child to have both his mother and his father during the early years, and we can figure it out as we go. We were married for a long time, Dane. We can make it through this. It’s just one more challenge in this long road called life.”
He looks absolutely stunned.
“You want to move back in? No! You just moved out.”
Amelia doesn’t look disturbed at all and continues like she hasn’t heard.
“Yes, I think moving in is for the best. The campus apartment I’m staying in is fine, but it’s nowhere as nice as here. My current place quite bare-bones and utilitarian, and that’s no way to raise a baby. This house, by contrast, is perfect. You have three bedrooms, and the small one facing the yard would make a perfect nursery.”
Oh my god, I think I’m going to vomit. What the hell? I’m currently in the small bedroom right now, and I turn to look at it. Almost as if in a mirage, I can see what Amelia envisions. Dappled sunlight streams into the room through pale blue curtains. The walls are decorated with murals of cartoon animals cavorting in a forest. There’s a crib in one corner, with a changing table, loads of stuffed animals, and a big toy giraffe arching its neck.
It’s perfect.
The only problem is that I’m not a part of this picture, and I know it. My heart drops into my chest and tears overwhelm me. Is my relationship with Dane done for good?
11
Dane
Holy fucking hell. No way.
I can’t believe this is happening. I thought I’d settled into my new life, with Margot on my arm and my past troubles over and done with.
Then this happens.
What the hell? Life is not fair.
Reading my mind, Amelia gets up and shoots me an evil smile. Her red-lipsticked mouth gives me the chills and I shudder knowing that I was intimate with this woman for years.
“Yes, it’s best if I move in,” she hisses. “I’ll leave you now, but I’ll have my movers call shortly. It’s best if I don’t move anything heavy, given my condition and all,” she says by way of explanation. “I’ll be back in here in no time. By next week, at the latest,” she says before waving an arm and disappearing out through the front door.
