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Shit. Gabriel.
I nod. Panic rising. He doesn’t want kids. He doesn’t want to marry—have a family. He’s happy with status quo. A fuck buddy.
Dr. Ryals hands me a tissue. “Don’t cry. It’ll be okay. Give yourself time for the news to settle. You don’t have to tell him now if you’re not ready. Your care is strictly confidential. No one besides the hospital staff have to know. Beyond that, it’s your discretion.”
My head bobs, bobblehead mode in full effect. I can’t tell him now. I need time to process. To figure out what he really wants, what he’s willing to give. If I tell him I’m pregnant, and he wants to get back together, I’ll always doubt his feelings for me. Plus, I’d never trap him into a relationship. I just… Need a minute to process…
“Have you been having any symptoms? Nausea, light-headedness, fatigue, smells or food turning you off?”
“I’ve thrown up and been dizzy.”Oh God, I drank!“Um, I’ve had some alcohol. I don’t drink often, but it’s been a stressful week. Could I have harmed the baby?”
“You don’t usually drink?”
“No, but this past week I probably drank three days, maybe. I thought throwing up and being dizzy was because my body wasn’t used to it.”
His smile is genuine. “More than likely it was the pregnancy and not the drinking. I’m sure the baby is fine. But”—he arches a brow—“no more alcohol. Okay?”
“Of course.”
“The baby looks good, by the way. You’re in great shape. You’ll bounce back quickly. Be patient with the ribs. They’ll take the longest to heal.” He goes on to tell me he’ll start me on a prenatal vitamin, and I’ll need to see an obstetrician as soon as I get home.
Home?And where is that, exactly?
I pace the hall. Cap and Rowdy keep eyeing me like I’m a ticking timebomb. I feel like I am. I know she’s fine in there with the doctor. I just need to see her to confirm for myself. I only had a few minutes with her after she woke up. I’m guessing Rowdy alerted the nurse to her wakened status. It’s good they came to check on her, but I would have liked a few more minutes with her, comforting her, feeling her forgiveness wash over me like a blessing.
I may not be guilty of cheating, but I’m guilty of so much when it comes to my Angel. Things I may never be able to come back from.
My father was a piece of shit, and what I gathered from Austin over the years, hers wasn’t much better. I can still hear my old man’s voice in my head telling me what a loser I was, and I’d never amount to a sack of shit—the world would be better off without me. If it wasn’t for my mom and sister, I might have believed that last part, but I know for a fact their lives are better because of me.
Iput food on the table. Not him.
Ikept the roof over our heads. Not him.
Imade sure they were safe. Not him.
The only thing he did was beat me and my mom and look at my sister in a way a father never should. By the time I was fifteen, I was bigger and meaner than him. I’d been fighting for years on the streets, making enough money to get by. I was the underdog, the surprise they never saw coming. A no-good kid with a bum for a dad.
But I showed them each and every time. I showed them all.
I kicked his ass out and never looked back.
If it wasn’t for special dispensation to get me in the army at seventeen, who knows where I’d be now. Probably still fighting on the streets, except not for Cap, but for some greedy mob boss who would take most of my earnings and shoot me like a lame horse the second I showed any signs of weakness or injury.
The army saved my life, gave me a livelihood to fall back on—a marketable skill that didn’t include fighting or killing people. Cap gave me a chance at a real career as a fighter, not a street fighter, but a legitimate MMA fighter with real skills and discipline.
It was tough going. I had more bad habits than good ones. More anger than skill. More emotional baggage than a bus could carry, but he and coach were patient. They saw something in me. Something I couldn’t see. They were my honing rod, removing the rough edges and sharpening me to knife-edge precision.
They made me the fighter I am today and gave me a family where I belong. Where I’m only told I’m an asshole when I act like one—which is often. The beatings only happen in the ring. The smack talk, all good-natured. I’m admired and looked up to instead of spit on and told I’m a waste of breath.
Cap gave me purpose.
Frankie gave me life.
What do I have to offer her that could possibly compare to what she’s already given me?
The door to her room opens and out steps the doctor, his eyes landing on me instantly, something unwritten on his face. “Gabriel, is it?” He offers his hand.
I shake it. “Yes, sir. Gabriel Stone.”
