Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 55860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“Shoot your shot and then put away the phone. Wait till she makes the next move. Trust me on this.”
“I’ll do my best to trust you on this,” I say. “But I know how you and Louie are enjoying watching me squirm.”
“Like a worm on a fishhook, Jacky,” she says with no small amusement in her voice.
I sit for a while and try to compose what I will say to Serena. Nothing seems right. I want to say something that’ll stop her in her tracks and make her think about me and only me. There won’t be room for anyone else in her mind or heart, not when she thinks about love and how close we feel to each other. I rewrite it about nine times before I decide I’m being an idiot and just message her that I miss her, and we need to talk.
In triumph I send Lynette a screenshot of my text.
NOOOOOOOOO, she replies
WTF? I demand, you said text her that I miss her. That’s what I did.
No. You said ‘we need to talk’ which is making it about you, not giving her the control.
I hate to admit that she’s right.
I take a deep breath and compose a simple message telling her I miss her and that I hope she’s doing alright.
I set my phone down and huff out a breath of frustration.
Now, I wait.
19
SERENA
Lucky for me I’m working at the Stop Mart five nights a week now. A good employee review by my manager at the thirty-day mark got me a pay increase to eighteen dollars an hour. I’m banking a little over two-grand a month after I pay half of the mortgage and buy groceries and gas. That’s enough to help pay for classes so I can hit my current goal of finishing my LPN before the baby comes.
On the road to that goal, I’m making sure I sleep enough, drink water, take a walk every day, and take my vitamins. Since I work opposite shifts from my father, I haven’t had to answer many questions lately. I need to figure out what to tell him when I start showing, however, because even he will notice eventually.
My first prenatal appointment was fine, and they determined all looked good. They gave me a stack of pamphlets about social programs for single moms and a food bank if needed.
So far, I’ve only gained six pounds. I can wear leggings to work and they’re stretchy so I’m okay for the moment.
I’m taking two online classes now, and it’s easy to get the work done in the afternoon once I’m awake. I’ve got a routine, and as long as I stick to it and keep busy, I don’t have time to think about Jack.
I got a text from him saying he missed me, and he hoped I was alright. I didn’t answer because I’m not alright. He got stabbed. I had to stop the bleeding and worry about whether the puncture was close to any vital organs. That isn’t something I can live with in a relationship where there’s a baby to look after.
I know it’s selfish to keep wishing we could be together. He’s not going to quit the Mob, even if that were a thing that is possible in real life, just so I don’t have to worry. He’s the same man I started dating. The only thing that changed is my perspective.
I’m not a sad sack barmaid desperate to pay off her dad’s debt and indulging in a little self-care in the form of screwing the hottest, most dangerous man I’ve ever met. Now I’m an expectant mother and nursing student who works nights and makes the safest of safe choices at all times. Because there’s somebody way more important than me and my momentary happiness in play now.
I can’t tell Jack, can’t explain that I’m pregnant and had to walk away from him to avoid the danger. Because Jack Marino would claim this child, probably insist on putting a ring on my finger and I’d be a Mob wife. Not just the TikTok aesthetic, the real deal. With bodyguards, bulletproof glass, and the unrelenting terror of someone snatching our child.
I cry all day on Monday because I admit to myself that I don’t love Jack as much as I want to be free of the risk to our baby. It makes me feel small and hateful, like I didn’t appreciate the big, amazing thing it was to have such a man fall in love with me. Part of me knows he’d be an incredible dad, but it’s not Jack I’m afraid of. It’s his enemies.
If I’m robbing our child of a loving father, can anything make up for that? I’m buying our safety and anonymity at such a cost. I’ll have to live with this decision for the rest of my life, and I’ll always regret the way I left things with Jack. But the risk is too great—I can’t tell him the truth. That I love him, but I can’t be with him. I just can’t live with myself if I stay with him for my own happiness and choose to put this baby’s life at risk. God help me, I’m miserable either way.