Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
It made me feel like I was failing.
Michael, of course, didn’t look at anything with judgment. He took in the baby crib and the toys and all silently, something deep and heavy in his eyes that I couldn’t quite read. I watched as he slowly circled around the apartment, looking at it all, and then sat down on my bed.
I wanted him to be on my bed, in my bed, but not like this. Not like this at all. Everything felt so right and so wrong all at once, knocked off-kilter, skewed somehow. And I didn’t know how to knock it all back into place.
“Were you ever going to tell me you were pregnant?” he asked, his voice soft and heavy.
I swallowed. “I… I wasn’t sure. I didn’t really know. I haven’t even told my parents yet, it’s all been so fast, I just needed distance, and space, and I’ve been, kind of avoiding telling people, to be honest.”
“Why? There’s no reason for you to feel ashamed, Stevie. It happens, and you made a choice, an honorable one if you ask me, and you’re going to be a great mother. There are plenty of single parents out there, for whatever reason. It’s nothing to hide from.”
I nearly burst into tears. God, we were discussing something that was, that had to be painful at least in some way for him, something that had to be shocking him, and here he was comforting me about it. I loved him for it, loved him so much that it felt like every part of me was crying out for him, like plants begging for water in a desert.
“You have enough on your plate,” I pointed out. “Why bother telling you about a former employee who got knocked up?”
My tongue tripped a little over ‘former’ employee, but I managed well enough. I was proud of myself for not revealing who did the knocking up. If nothing else, perhaps I could salvage that part of it. Let him walk away thinking I was a two-timing bitch. Let him think whatever he wanted of me. I wasn’t going to let him chain himself to a future he hadn’t asked for, a future that I had chosen. This child was mine and my choice, that didn’t mean that he was obligated to do anything.
I’d rather he hated me for thinking I had slept with Cameron behind his back, while with him, than have him grow to resent me and his child for giving him a responsibility that he didn’t want. At least this way, he’d be happy.
Michael raised his eyebrows, and I realized that he had probably noticed my careful avoidance in saying who had knocked me up. He was intelligent, I’d always known that, but now it was really hitting me full-force since that intelligence was being used against me.
“Brooke seems to think that Cameron is the father,” he told me, as though this might be brand-new information that I wasn’t aware of. He stood up and began to slowly cross the room towards me. I told myself it wasn’t sexy. “Now, why would she come to that conclusion?”
I shrugged, unsure how to answer. I could lie and say that Brooke must have seen Cameron flirting with me and jumped to conclusions, since as far as she knew there was no one else interested. Or I could lie and say that I had literally told her it was Cameron, instead of the truth which was that I’d just let her assume that it was him, let her fill in the blanks herself.
Unable to face him anymore, I turned away, walking over towards the little kitchenette. “I could… um… if you’re hungry…” I managed, unsure what I was saying or doing, just knowing that I had to distract myself.
Michael was there all of a sudden, in my space, his fingers gently taking my chin and turning me towards him.
My breath caught in my throat as I looked him full in the face. Oh, God, he was so attractive, but more than that, the expression on his face broke my heart. His eyes were so warm and understanding, soft and dark, as they gazed into mine, and I would have kissed him then and there if I’d been able to move.
“Stevie,” he said, quietly, and fuck, I loved how he said my name, even now, even as hearing him say it broke my heart anew. “Is the baby Cameron’s?”
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. I was frozen.
Michael gave a small sigh. “Because I don’t think that the baby is his.”
His thumb was gently stroking the line of my jaw as he kept my chin between his fingers, forcing me to stay close to him, to keep looking him in the eye. “But even if it is Cameron’s,” he said, each word careful and deliberate, as if he really wanted to make sure that I heard and understood him, “I’m here for you. I want to make sure that your baby gets a father. And if I’m not the biological father, well, people take in kids all the time and give them love, and that’s what makes a parent. Not blood, but care and commitment. You wouldn’t even have to tell anyone I wasn’t, if you would feel better about it.”