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“What?” I barked. “What the hell is it? And why did you have to tell me here? Why couldn’t you just tell me on the phone?”
Jourdan shrugged one shoulder. “I liked the dramatics. And besides, we’re going to have quite a bit of printing to do. Now sit down.”
He pointed to the chair on the other side of his desk. “Because your best friend has a plan.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
NELL
The elevator hummedaround me as I waited patiently for it to come to a stop at my destination.
I wrapped my arms around myself in a mockery of a hug, trying to calm my nerves.
Higher and higher, the elevator climbed, the digital screen above the button panel ticking off every floor we passed before it finally stopped.
The doors opened slowly, revealing my mother standing on the other side.
Her auburn hair was piled on top of her head, secured with a claw clip, and her face was entirely makeup free.
I had called her the moment after Lex, and I had read the test, not knowing what else to do, and when my mother had answered, I’d blurted everything out to her.
And more than just the pregnancy, I had told her everything.
Sobbing into my phone while I sat on the floor of Lex’s apartment, I poured the entire dirty truth out to my mother.
She had been silent for a moment, and I hadn’t been able to blame her for needing a moment to process everything that I had thrown at her.
But then, she’d just said in a calm, comforting tone that I had never heard her use before.
“Come home.”
And so, I had. I hugged Lex and thanked her before turning and walking out of her apartment and toward the subway.
Forty minutes later, I was standing in front of her.
At the sight of my mother, something within me unclenched.
We may have had a terrible relationship in the past. We may have done a thousand and one things to each other over the years that warranted plenty of hurt from both of us.
But with everything going on, I couldn’t find it within myself to hold on to that anger.
“Baby,” she cooed the moment she laid eyes on me, extending her arms to me.
I didn’t hesitate as I collapsed into them, sobs tearing through my body as the reality of my situation washed over me.
“I’m pregnant,” I sobbed, my shoulders shaking with the force of my words. “I’m pregnant, and I don’t know what to do.”
“I know, baby,” she said softly, rubbing her hands along my back in a soothing gesture. “I know.”
We stood like that for a while, not moving from the foyer while I lamented and sobbed in her arms, and she let me.
She never once made me feel stupid, never pressured me for more information other than what I offered up willingly.
It would have been all too easy for her to throw the last six years of our estrangement in my face, to deny me the comfort I so desperately needed, and she would have been well within her rights.
I was aware that I didn’t deserve it.
And yet, she just held me. She continued to rub my back and scratch my scalp. Continued to hold me as she murmured soothing platitudes to me until, finally, my sobs began to calm.
