Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Her body trembles in my arms, and I worry that she’s going to cry, but instead, she draws back, looking up and searching my face.
I don’t know if she finds what she’s looking for in my expression, but when she turns to head out of the door, she reaches for my hand instead of walking alone.
26
ELLIE
How can I have a baby when I’m at college? How will it even work?
My hands tremble as I pull the seatbelt across my body, but before I can even think about anything else, Colby takes my other hand in his.
“You’re shaking,” he says. “Just take a deep breath.”
I inhale slowly, closing my eyes. When I swallow, my stomach feels hollow and a little sick.
“How?” I say, even though it’s obvious what’s gotten us into this situation. “It was only once.”
“Once is all it takes.” The comment could have sounded grim, but it doesn’t. There’s a lightness to Colby’s voice that I don’t understand.
“Why do you sound happy about it?” I say, twisting to watch him as he reverses the car out of the parking space.
“Just do me a favor and listen,” he says, keeping his gaze fixed on the road. “I want you to close your eyes and imagine our parents are happy when they find out. Your friends are throwing a baby shower. We’re picking out a crib and lots of tiny clothes. The three of us are there to support you and help with everything.”
I try to create pictures in my head of my mom’s smiling face. She’s holding up a cute outfit with a bear on the front. Dornan is there with a baby bath, and Micky and Seb are working out how to assemble the white wooden crib. Colby has his arms wrapped around me and his hand resting on my swollen belly.
And instead of a sinking feeling of sickness in my stomach, I feel happy. Contented. Relieved.
“See,” he says. When I open my eyes, he’s smiling at me. “You feel it too. You’re just dwelling on the worry about what people will think and how they’ll react. You’re stressing about facing the future alone, but you don’t have to.”
“Colby, you don’t have to stay with me because of the baby,” I say, even though deep down, it’s the exact opposite of what I want.
His brow lowers, and his hands flex on the wheel. “Ellie. You are so fucking stubborn, you know that? Why won’t you accept how we feel about you? Why do you always want to push us away? Don’t you know we wanted a future with you before this morning? You’ve been acting like you can’t wait to get rid of us now that our parents are home.”
My heart skitters, and I place my hand over it, blinking against tears that threaten to spill. I don’t know why I find it so hard to hear his claims about his feelings or why I can’t ever accept them to be more than just words. My heart longs for the picture that Colby painted, a future where everything is happy and filled with love.
But the problem in the picture isn’t everyone else.
It’s me.
It doesn’t matter how hard I try; I never feel as though I belong at the center of the happiness he’s suggesting is within my grasp. I’m on the outside. The black sheep. The little girl who wasn’t brave enough. The one whose father left and never looked back.
“I just need to go home,” I say. “I need some time to myself. I don’t even know what I’m thinking or how I’m feeling.”
Colby clears his throat, and I know he’s frustrated. I can feel the tenseness of his body sitting so near to mine. He’s near, but still feels so far away.
“Just promise me you won’t shut us out,” he says, his voice gentler than I’ve ever heard it.
“I promise.” The words pass uncomfortably from my lips because I don’t know what it will take for me to mean them.
Back at the house, I disappear into my room and lock the door. I have classes to prepare for, but I can’t face anyone. How do I listen to people rambling on about things that seemed important and vital yesterday but are now totally irrelevant to my life?
When it’s time for the boys to leave, they knock on my door.
I take a deep breath to steel myself to open it. Facing them when I feel so lost and confused is hard. I trust Colby has shared our joyful news. How his brothers have reacted isn’t something I can predict.
When I tug the door open, they’re all there, faces a little grave, eyes worried.
“Are you feeling okay?” Colby asks, looking at the sloth pajamas I’ve thrown on.
“No,” I say. “I’m not going in today. Can you tell my mom I’m ill and resting?”