Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I don’t bother answering that, since it’s clearly full of sarcasm. And horrifyingly accurate. “When did you find out about this?”
“The cream in my coffee tasted off this morning, and then the same thing happened when I was with the girls at our spa day. I figured I was run down, or maybe coming down with something, but Violet made a comment about knowing she was pregnant when dairy tasted funky. I didn’t think anything of it at first, but I’ve been sleeping so much lately. And my stomach has been off. I thought I was nervous about seeing you, which I was, but then I realized that there might be more to it.”
“Wait, you found this out today?”
“This afternoon. I took a test.”
“Well, that’s a whole lot of irony that you find this out on my daughter’s damn birthday.” I shake my head in disbelief. “Wait. Weren’t you with the girls all afternoon? When would you have time to take a test?”
“Lainey’s been trying to get pregnant, and she’s been carrying around tests with her. She gave me one, and I went to the bathroom…and it came back positive,” Hanna explains.
“Lainey and Violet know you’re pregnant?” That’s not ideal. Especially considering the conversation Alex and I had about his wife’s inability to keep secrets.
“And Stevie.” She holds up her hand to keep me from interrupting. “But they don’t know it’s yours. I told them I was casually involved with someone, and they assumed whomever it was is from Tennessee. I made them promise not to say anything because I wasn’t sure what to do.”
I remember what it was like when Queenie’s mom walked out on us when Queenie was only three months old and all of a sudden I was on my own, raising a kid. All the sleepless nights at twenty were hard enough. The idea of having to do that now is mind-boggling. “Do you know what you want to do?”
Her brow furrows. “Do as in…?”
“How you’d like to move forward? What your plan is? We’re in our forties.” And I’m back to stating the obvious. “Are you going to keep it?”
She recoils, as if I’ve slapped her, which tells me everything about my tone. “I don’t expect anything from you, Jake. I’m not asking you to take this on with me. I’m telling you because you need to know.”
“I didn’t mean it the way it came out. And if it’s my kid, I’m obviously going to take a role in his or her life.” And how am I going to manage that? Hanna lives a five-hour plane ride away.
“If it’s your kid? I haven’t been with anyone except you,” she practically spits at me.
I’m about to respond when Hanna raises a hand to stop me from saying something stupid. Again. “I need to see my doctor before we start talking about how this child is going to be raised. Even if I’m through the first trimester, which I think I am, I’m high risk and there’s a chance I could still lose this baby.”
“But your plan is to keep it?” Do I want her to keep it? Why am I asking her these questions when I don’t even know the answers myself?
“Barring any complications, yes.” She reaches for her necklace and fingers the rose gold heart. “I know this is very unexpected, but this is the last chance I’m going to have. I didn’t even think I still had a chance. I know there are a lot of potential complications, but I’m going to go through with the pregnancy, high risk or not.”
I don’t even know what the risks are. Does this pregnancy put Hanna in danger? And if something happens to her, then what? I could be looking at the same scenario as last time. Except potentially worse if something bad happens to Hanna in the process. “Do you want me to get you in to see a doctor here? I could arrange something for tomorrow? I could call the team doctor.”
She shakes her head. “I’d rather see my own doctor. She knows my history.”
“Right. Okay. Should I fly back with you? Do you want me there?” Judging by the look on her face, the answer to that question is no.
The sound of voices coming down the hall alerts us that this conversation isn’t as private as we’d like it to be.
“Should we find a more private place to talk this through?” I ask. My head is a swirling mess of memories and worries. The last time this happened I ended up losing my girlfriend, my career, and becoming a single dad. It’s a giant mindfuck I don’t know how to handle.
“I’m staying at Ryan and Queenie’s. Do you want to come back there?” She exhales a tremulous breath and checks her phone. “It’s after eleven. It wouldn’t be a stretch for me to say I’m tired in say, half an hour?”