Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“Expecting someone?” she asks.
“No.”
“Maybe it’s one of—” I give her a look that stops her from finishing. “Sorry. Habit.” She blushes.
The doorbell rings again. “Fuck. Don’t move. I’ll be right back to pick up where we left off.” I kiss her once more, just a quick peck on the lips before climbing out of bed and pulling on some basketball shorts, I rush down the stairs, and toward the front door.
Turning on the front porch light, I pull open the door, but there’s no one there, at least not until I look down and see a baby seat, a bit like the one Sophia has. “What the fuck?” I mutter, looking around. That’s when a car parked just down the street turns on its lights and squealing tires drive away from my house.
“Chase?” Gabby says from behind me. I feel her hand on my back. “Who is it?”
“It’s uh—” Fuck, I don’t know what the hell is going on. I step back and wait for her eyes to drop to the baby. “A baby. I think,” I admit.
“Did you see anyone?” she asks.
“No, but a car just turned on its lights and sped away.”
She steps around me and lifts the seat. “Grab the diaper bag,” she says, moving into the house. Doing as she says, I grab the bag, take one more look around outside before closing and locking the door behind me. “There’s a note,” she says, handing me an envelope with my name on it.
Taking the envelope, I open it and I’m only a few sentences in and my heart is beating so loud in my chest, I can’t seem to focus on the rest. This can’t be right. I don’t know what’s happening. Forcing myself to focus, I read the rest of the letter before crumpling it up in my fist. I don’t know a Laura Matthews. Fuck, this cannot be happening.
All I can think is that I’m going to lose her. I just got her, and we’re in a good place and I’m going to lose her. My world spins.
“Chase, sit down,” Gabby says. I do as she says. “What did it say?”
I shake my head. I’m not ready to tell her. I just want to rewind to five minutes ago when she was mine, and we were moving forward.
“Chase?” Gabby asks.
I look over at her to see her holding the baby in her arms. “What did it say?”
I can’t speak, and I know I can’t put off the inevitable. So I hand her the letter, bow my head, and hold my breath for the moment she walks out of my life.
Chapter Nine
Gabby 9
* * *
There’s a tremble in my hand as I take the letter from him. The baby sleeps in the crook
of my arm, barely stirring when I picked him up from the infant seat. My eyes
scan the delicate penmanship on basic notebook paper. I walk over and have a seat on the couch, adjusting the tiny one so I can read the words.
* * *
Dear Chase,
I know you probably don’t remember me, but we met a little over
nine months ago at a club in St. Louis. You were there with your
brother, and I was with my friend. We hung out and then spent
the night together in your hotel room, but I left before you woke.
Well, that night resulted in a son. His name is Milo and he’s three
weeks old. I never wanted to be a mother, though I have tried. I’m
just not wired that way, and that’s why I’m leaving him with you.
You can give him the life he deserves. I’ll call you soon to work out custody, but I won’t fight you for him. He’s your son. If you don’t
want to raise him, we can put him up for adoption, but honestly, I
hope you have it in you to care for him. He needs one decent parent
in his life.
I’ll be in touch.
Laura Matthews
* * *
My eyes fly to his. There’s a mix of fear and shock there as his eyes bounce from me to the sleeping baby in my arms. His baby.
“Chase?” I ask, my voice soft and direct.
He jumps up and starts pacing the living room. When he reaches the wall, he turns and makes his way to the other side. The entire time, his hands are running through his hair, much like my own hands were not a half hour earlier. Only this time, it’s a sign of his disbelief.
After two or three laps across the room, he finally stops and glances down at the baby. “I was in St. Louis,” he whispers quietly, not taking his eyes off the tiny human. “Colton was home on leave for a few days so I went to the city. We met up on Saturday morning, hung out, and went to a ballgame. After, we found a club to celebrate the Cards’ victory and Colton’s last few days stateside. There was booze.” He closes his eyes as if going back to that night and shakes his head.