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Ugh.
When I get upstairs, I find Armando in the kitchen holding the cardboard box the test came in, a stunned, unhappy expression on his face. “Fuck, Hannah.”
It’s hard to believe in the course of two minutes a mama bear energy could enter me and take hold, but it does. I’m instantly on the defensive, and protecting my baby is all that matters.
“Fuck!” he says louder, turning to face the wall and punching it. His knuckles break through my drywall, sending crumbles to the floor. “It’s my fault. I didn’t use a condom all the time. I let our passion take over, and… fuck!”
And with that, he finally crushes my hopeful pink Cinderella heart. There will be no happy ending for us. He’s not a prince. He’s not even a boyfriend.
He doesn’t want me or this baby. And I’ll be damned if I’ll let him taint any part of this pregnancy. And suddenly, things become crystal clear. I have a tiny life growing inside me that I need to protect. Honor. I need to do for my baby what I couldn’t do for myself.
Demand more.
Demand a lot more.
And Armando is not going to give that to me. He simply can’t. He’s made that abundantly clear.
“It was negative,” I say loudly, suddenly grateful for my instinct to bury that evidence with the kitty litter. “I’m late, but I’m not pregnant. I just wanted to be sure.”
Armando swivels back slowly and eyes me.
I’m not the best liar, so I hide it under bluster. “But this pregnancy scare brought it all home to me.” I suck in a ragged breath. “It’s time for you to leave, Armando. Things are getting too complicated.” My eyes fill with tears, and for once, I’m not ashamed. They’re honest tears and only serve to strengthen my resolve right now. “I don’t want a broken heart. It's already cracking. I’m cracking. I can’t do this anymore.”
The color drains from Armando’s face. I might’ve celebrated the fact that he had an emotional reaction to anything under different circumstances. But as it is, his shock and pain reverberate through me, shattering what little control I have left.
“You want me to leave?”
I nod.
“But I need to keep you safe.”
“You can do that from afar. Keep your men on me,” I suggest. “You and I both know you being around me is putting me in more danger than you staying. And you staying here—”
“Hannah…”
I start to cry in earnest. I’m sure the hormones aren’t helping. “I need you to leave,” I say through my tears.
Armando’s eyes go dead. He launches into action, his movements jerky and mechanical. He moves through the apartment and packs his things into the duffel bag he brought over. He picks Shadow up from the floor where he’s twining around his ankles. He brings him up to his face and kisses my kitten’s head. “Take care of her, you hear me?”
He walks to the door. “I’m sorry, Hannah.” His voice is tight and gruff.
I nod, closing my throat around my sobs.
It feels so wrong, but I know it’s the right thing to do. I’m not saddling this baby with a father who doesn’t want him. I’m not going to have the discussion with Armando about whether or not to keep it.
I’m keeping it. And he’s got to go. That’s all there is to it.
I don’t have room in my life for a non-boyfriend. Not when this baby’s going to need everything I have to give it.
He looks at me like he wants to say something else but then just nods and turns back to the door. He opens it, walks through and closes it without looking back.
And the moment he’s gone, I drop to my knees and sob.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Armando
The world dims the moment Hannah tells me to leave.
I know it’s for the best. I’ve known all along I should leave because I’m fucking toxic to her. I have zero to offer, and on top of that, every minute I spend with her puts her life in danger with the people who want me dead.
And Christ, when I thought she was pregnant, I couldn’t think of anything worse. Endangering a helpless infant? I’d have to leave her—never see her again, not even as a friend.
So her making the decision for me should’ve made it easier.
It should have.
But a grey haze descends around my vision as I stand out on the street with my duffel bag and try to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do.
And then, because I honestly didn’t give a fuck if the Hermanos want to kill me now, I head to my apartment.
I take the L because I can’t stand the thought of being cooped up with an Uber driver. At the apartment, I pass the landlord in the hallway, and he gives me the stink eye.
