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“No. Yes. Not really, no. But you’ll never believe in me, and I can’t— won’t—live that way again.”
“I was angry, Bonnie. I felt betrayed. Used. I’m really sorry.”
She nodded, but it didn’t seem to thaw her one bit.
“I’m pregnant, Calvin Ashby, and before you ask, yes, it’s yours. Yes, I’m keeping my baby, no matter what you think. And I’m not doing this to get my hands on your money.”
Her words ended on a rushed-out sigh as if it took a lot of energy for her to make it through all those thoughts.
Pregnant. “Pregnant?”
“Yes. Six or seven weeks, according to the doctor, but I’ll know more when I go to an OB.” Her hand went to her stomach before she realized what she was doing and got herself under control.
As if she had to pretend with me. To be a certain way.
As if I was anything like her judgmental, cruel parents.
“You’re having my baby?” I sounded like an idiot, but I couldn’t think straight, not knowing that soon I would have a kid depending on me for life and advice, for protection. Guidance. “You’re sure?”
Bonnie nodded. “I was as surprised as you are, but yes. It was confirmed several times during my hospital stay.” Her words were rote, robotic almost.
Suddenly I knew what had to be done. Bonnie would need help and protection, which I could provide. I turned onto my knee and said, “Marry me.”
It made sense, and the more I thought of it, the more perfect it all was. For both of us.
“Babies cost money and you don’t have any. You need a place to stay, and if we get married, you’ll live here.” The ideas rolled off my tongue rapid-fire, and I grew more comfortable with the plan by the second. “I’ll protect you and take care of you.”
“No.”
I smiled. “This isn’t charity, Bonnie. I care about you. This is about doing what’s right and owning up to my responsibilities, you and our baby.” I would take care of them both, making sure that not a day went by when they didn’t feel protected. Safe.
“No.” The word came out firmer this time, louder too. “We are not getting married.”
I frowned. “Why not? It works out perfectly for everyone.”
Bonnie shook her head. “It doesn’t work out perfectly for me, not at all, Calvin. I’m sorry, but no, I won’t marry you.”
“What? Why?” My voice was loud, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. “What do you mean, no? You have a better offer?”
The wince was barely visible but it was there, in the gentle parting of her lips, the slight way her shoulders froze for half a second.
“No. No offer to rival your obligatory proposal, but still the answer is no.” She stood, her movements slow and ginger, overly cautious. “Thanks though.”
“Bonnie, think about it. Seriously. We could be happy together.”
She shook her head, her expression sad, almost wistful. “That’s where you’re wrong, Cal. You could never be happy with someone like me. You would never trust me, and that means you could never grow to love me, and I’d rather be alone than live with that kind of loneliness.”
“You need me,” I told her.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Calvin. I don’t need anyone but me. I may be weak now and not able to stand on my feet, but I’m getting stronger every day. I can do this. I will do it, and I’ll do it on my own.”
As if to prove her point, she stood up, out of the pool, the water on her legs shimmering in the sunlight. For a second she towered over me until I, too, rose to my feet. Now, eye to eye, I scoffed.
“You’re going to raise my baby on your own? That doesn’t work for me, Bonnie. It doesn’t work for me at all.” I didn’t want things to get messy, but if they did, I’d fight to win the way I always had.
Bonnie shoved the glasses on top of her head and took a step back as fear took hold of her, grabbed every inch of her in its grasp. “That didn’t take long, but thanks for letting me know exactly where I stand with you, Calvin Asshole.”
Those were the last words she said before walking away, leaving me stunned as I wondered how the hell it had all gone so wrong, so quickly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Bonnie
My first real marriage proposal and it was definitely one to remember, even if it was for all the wrong reasons.
There was no romance or even a hint of romance to be found anywhere in Calvin’s words, his phony proposal. He didn’t even hint that he could love me in the future, just a proposal based on responsibility. Obligation.
It was nothing like I’d always dreamed about, back when I used to have fairy tale visions of big, beautiful weddings, walking down the aisle with my Prince Charming.
