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She continues despite my eyes trying to tell her to get fucking lost. "Hunter may be rich, but he's not an idiot. Sooner or later, he'll see get sick of you. And then what? You’ll have to go back to your little garbage life..."
The rage simmers inside me. I feel my attitude coming out full force.
Uh oh.
"I get why you're upset... You weren't able to keep a man like Hunter around."
Christy's face tightens, her eyes narrowing into slits.
“But I’m not you, Christy.” I look her up and down. “That’s for sure...”
I stand up and turn my back to her, not bothering to look back. I walk out of the restaurant, the door jingling shut behind me. I can't help but roll my eyes.
"Well, that was a waste of my appetite," I mutter to myself, rubbing my belly. "Don't worry, little peanut. Mommy's not going to let a bitter ex-wife ruin our dinner. Let's find another place. I'm still starving."
I continue to walk down the street before I spy a little Mexican joint tucked away between two larger buildings. My stomach rumbles even louder. The place is empty.
Thank God.
I slide into a booth and scan the menu. It doesn't take long for a friendly server to come by, taking my order for a plate of nachos with extra cheese.
As I wait for my food, I pull out my phone. My fingers hover over Hunter's name in my contact list, contemplating whether I should tell him about the run-in with his ex-wife.
Christy knows. She knows about the rumors, about the whispers that have been circulating. And it's only a matter of time before she puts two and two together.
But I decide against it. I'm still pissed at Hunter.
He might be the father of my baby, but right now, he’s just another man who's let me down.
Let him find out his past is catching up with him on his own.
I slip the phone back into my bag as the server returns with my food. The sight of the nachos, smothered in melted cheese and jalapeños, brings a smile to my face. A splash of hot sauce, a squeeze of fresh lime, and two hands later, I'm munching on the food when memories of Kaitlyn flood my mind. She used to tell me stories about Christy, how she was a loose cannon, unpredictable as fuck. At the time, I shrugged it off, thinking Christy was a classic bitter ex. But damn, Kaitlyn wasn't kidding. Christy is as crazy as they come.
I get sad as I think about Kaitlyn. I miss her laughter, her wild spirit, her support. We used to laugh about the idea of me having a baby, how I'd be the most unconventional mom ever. The thought of telling her about my pregnancy, about the baby growing inside me — it brings a smile to my lips. I wish more than anything that I could share this news with her.
"I miss you, Kait," I whisper to the empty air. "I'm pregnant. I wish you were here with me."
My thoughts then begin to wander to my mom. The look on her face when I tell her about the baby, about Hunter.
I can already see her disappointment, her worry. She's always wanted the best for me: a stable life with a loving partner and a steady career.
My current situation is a far cry from her dreams for me.
You're such a mess, Maya.
I can imagine her questions about Hunter being so much older, about him being my boss, about him being my friend's dad. And then there’s my pregnancy. I know she won’t like how things have turned out.
I let out a small sigh, pushing my finished plate to the side. I still wish I could tell her. I need her wisdom right now, but the fear of adding to her disappointment in me is un-fucking-bearable.
The empty chair across from me seems to echo my loneliness. I toy with my phone, my fingers hovering over Hunter's number again. A part of me wants to dial his number, to hear his voice, to tell him about the encounter with Christy, about my fears, about our baby... But how would I even begin?
"Hey, Hunter. Your ex-wife is a nightmare and by the way, we're expecting."
Not exactly Hallmark card material. I shake my head, putting my phone away.
I don't need to tell him, I don't need his understanding, his sympathy, or his drama. I don't need him. I'm not alone, I've got my little peanut to think about. I've always been independent, always faced my problems head-on.
As I get up from the table, I put a hand on my belly, smiling. "We don't need anyone."
