Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“So I guess you have questions,” Addison begins, looking at me.
“I do,” I answer her and see that she takes a deep inhale.
“Okay, then let’s start at question number one,” she urges me.
“When is her birthday?” It’s the first thing I thought about when I met her. That and then all the birthdays I’ve missed with her.
“September twentieth,” she replies softly. “She was born at twenty-nine weeks.” I can’t help but gasp at that information.
“Is she okay?” I ask, which might seem like a silly question considering I’ve met her and she’s perfect.
“She is now,” she reassures me with a smile. “It was rough at the beginning. She was born at two pounds one ounce.” My heart beats so fast in my chest, you would think I’m in the middle of a cardio workout instead of sitting down having a discussion. “She was in the NICU for over a month.” My head spins at this information. I never expected it was such a hard start for her at the beginning. “She’s up to normal height and weight as of her last visit.”
“She looks perfect,” I finally say, and she nods, agreeing with me. “When did you find out you were pregnant?”
“About six weeks after. I was in the middle of finals, and I wasn’t really sure until I ate pizza and then threw up all over my bed. I was also exhausted, more so than regularly. I fell asleep once sitting in a chair.” She laughs, her hand holding her glass of water. She spins the glass around and around. I know she’s nervous, and I know she’s doing anything she can to move her hands. I want to lean over and grab her hand and tell her that it’s okay. But instead, I sit in front of her and listen to her tell me the story. “Then I went out and bought a test and when that one came back, I thought it was defective.” She taps the table with her finger. “So I went to the doctor and turns out it wasn’t defective and I was, in fact, with child.”
“How was your pregnancy?” I think of the questions I wrote down in my notes on my iPad last night once I got to Matty’s. All the questions I wrote down are now forgotten, so I’m going by the seat of my pants now.
“It went well. I was tired until the second trimester. I craved peanut butter and Nutella day and night.” Something inside me sinks as I think of her doing it all on her own. The guilt of not being there is even stronger today as I listen to what she went through without me.
“What have you told her about me?” This is the question I wanted to wait until the end to ask, but with the way my head is spinning, everything is coming out in a different order. To be honest, it was the only question I now want an answer for. I don’t care about anything else except for this one.
“I told her you went to work,” she answers, and I laugh.
“For four years?” I joke with her, and she smirks. The nerves I’ve had in my body slowly leave me. Sitting with her, I find the calmness of it. It’s crazy that I didn’t have anything on my agenda two days ago. My whole life was just work, and now it’s shifted.
“I mean, she’s four, so she really doesn’t get the whole time thing. I know, once she gets old enough to understand, I’ll have to come up with something else.”
I nod at her as the server comes over. “Have we had a chance to look at the menu?” she asks, ready to take our order.
“I’ll have kale salad,” Addison orders, and the server looks at me.
“I’ll have the same,” I answer, and she nods and walks away.
“You eat kale?” she asks me as she grabs her glass of water.
“No, I hate it.” Her mouth just hangs open. “It was easier than looking at the menu.
“Is there a father figure in her life?” I ask the question, and the whole time my stomach sinks just thinking about it.
“There is none,” she confirms, sitting back. “It’s just me and her.” I don’t know why I feel a sense of relief from that statement. It makes me feel even more like a selfish asshole.
I nod my head. “I want to meet her and get to know her,” I finally say, not even sure of any other questions I have, but this is the most important one.
“Of course,” she says without thinking about it. “It was never my intention to keep her from you.” She looks down at her hands and then looks back up at me. “It was the first one-night stand I ever had,” she admits, her voice going low as she looks around to see if anyone is listening to us, or even close enough to hear the conversation. “You were leaving the next day, and I just figured it would be less awkward than you waking up and asking me to leave.” She shrugs.