Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
“It’s Dylan,” I say through clenched teeth. Silence. “Fiona?” I ask, my chest suddenly tight at the lack of response. “Let me in, Fiona. We need to talk.” A few more seconds go by and then the buzzer sounds and the door opens with a click. Trying to get my emotions under control, I head up to the woman’s apartment, taking deep breaths. The only other time I’d been here was the first time I came to pick her up for our first date. It seems like a lifetime ago now.
When I get up to her door, it’s closed. What the hell? She’s expecting me, so why is she deliberately trying to insult me by having me ask her to open up for a second time? I shouldn’t bang my fist on her door, but I do.
“Fiona! Open up!” I hear her whimpering on the other side of the door and it makes my insides shrink up in a mixture of confusion, affection, and frustration. And regret. She’s scared of me for some reason.
“Fiona?” I try more gently now. The door unlocks and I push it open, stepping into her apartment.
The brunette stands before me in her bathrobe. Her arms are crossed over her full chest, her brown hair is tied up in a messy bun, and she’s not wearing any make-up. She looks adorable. But she also looks worried and her eyes are red, as if she’s been crying. I close the door behind me with a soft click. My instinct is to go over to her take her in my arms, but I force myself to take it easy.
“Fiona? Baby? What’s the matter?” I ask her, trying the gentle route and surprised at how much more natural that seems to come to me than I was expecting. “Why have you been avoiding me?” I ask her. She can’t meet my eyes, but I can see she's welling up.
“Please,” I say, taking a step closer to her. “Whatever it is, just tell me. If you don’t want to see me anymore, just tell me to my face, and I’ll leave you alone. I swear it,” comes my rough voice. I can feel the desperation rise in me, but I force myself to stay calm. Desperation is not a good look, ever. But Fiona’s laughing now. And it tips me over the edge.
“What the fuck is so funny?” I growl. She looks me square in the eye for the first time, tears streaming down her face even though she’s laughing. And her answer comes in a half-wail, half-laugh.
“That I wouldn’t want to see you anymore! That’s what’s funny!” she says, crying. “How could you think that?”
“Are you kidding me?” I ask her incredulously. “I haven’t heard from you since before I left! You haven’t returned my phone calls, my emails, and now you’re acting like this! Seriously baby. What’s wrong?”
Fiona raises her hands to her face and wipes it with a frustrated gesture. Her mouth opens, and then closes, before opening again. There are words to be said, but she’s struggling. Finally, the woman swallows and takes a deep breath, those brown eyes meeting mine.
“I’m pregnant, Dylan,” she says softly, standing still as a doe. “And I don’t know what to do.”
Holy fuck, she’s pregnant? Emotions well up in a torrent, and I open my mouth to speak.
10
Dylan
Feelings crash through my body as if someone had opened the sky on top of my head and unceremoniously dumped a bucket of rain on me. Surprise, elation, shock, and love land on me one by one. I’m staring at Fiona as my face breaks open in the most genuine smile it’s ever produced.
“Holy shit!” I exclaim, starting to walk over to her to take her in my arms. But something’s not right. She's not smiling. She’s not mirroring my happiness at this news in any way. And she’s not meeting my embrace at all, either. In fact, the woman’s turning away, putting her palm out as if to ward me off. I stop in my tracks, my arms hanging uselessly by my side.
“Aren’t you happy?” I ask stupidly. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
She’s shaking her head and she bites her lip. The brunette turns back to face me, tears streaming down her face, her hands shaking as she pulls the robe closer around herself and folds her arms back over her chest.
“Fiona, what the hell is going on?” I demand of her, caught in such a web of emotions that I can’t take it anymore.
“Dylan,” she whispers, her voice thick with tears. “I can’t even think about being happy. Because I’m not even sure the baby is yours!” she wails.
I stare at her blankly. Who else’s could it be? Has she been two-timing me? I see red for a moment but then it dissipates. That’s impossible because the girl’s lived at my apartment non-stop for the last three months. She hasn’t had a moment to herself.