Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
If that was how he thought of me, how would he think of the baby?
It didn’t matter now that I cared for him, only what was best for my unborn child. I couldn’t not tell Jax, but I had to figure out when the time would be right, how I would do it, and how I would get him to back off if he tried to take charge of every little part of my life.
“Riley?” Veronica again. “Seriously, I can run down to the drugstore for you. I’m starting to get more than a little worried here.”
“Don’t,” I said. “I—uh, I haven’t colored your tiles in shades of puke.” Ew, bad joke, but I was hardly in the state to make a good one.
“Ew, that’s gross.”
“I’m done,” I said. “I’m coming out.” I flushed the toilet again, then snatched up the brown bag, shoved the spent box and test inside it, and hurried to the little wastepaper basket next to the sink. I shoved it right in the bottom, grabbed a handful of tissues from the dispenser on the counter, and piled them on top.
It would have to suffice as a hiding spot for now.
I wasn’t ready to tell Veronica about this. She’d been super uncomfortable about Jax, and our relationship had taken a huge knock because of it. The pregnancy thing? God, who knew how she’d react.
I scurried over to the bathroom door, smoothed my palms down my sweater, then clicked the lock and stepped out.
Veronica immediately pressed the back of her hand to my forehead. “You’re hot,” she said. “You’ve got a fever. Should I call the doctor?”
“Relax, Mom, I’m fine. I’m in perfect shape for a good, old series marathon.”
“No Netflix and chill,” Veronica said and dropped her arm. “Netflix and popcorn, though, if you can stomach it.”
“I’ll see how I feel,” I replied. And I wasn’t faking. It wasn’t that I had morning sickness or night sickness or whatever. It was that my stomach burned with a mixture of shame and fear.
How would I tell Jax?
How would I tell Veronica?
And how the hell would I come up with the money to look after my baby?
My baby.
I followed Veronica down the short, dingy hall into her tiny living room, my hand on my belly. My baby. This was what I’d always wanted, and sure, I’d never expected it to happen like this, but for all my nerves and fear for the future, there was still a spark of joy.
A baby!
I sat down on the sofa, tucked my legs underneath myself, and dragged the blanket into my lap. Veronica grabbed the popcorn and held the bowl on her lap, then hit play. She sang along to the intro tune loudly, conducting the invisible orchestra with both hands, and I couldn’t help but giggle.
We settled in to watch.
It was a marathon, all right. We got halfway through season one before Veronica broke into a massive yawn and clicked off the TV. “Ugh, I can’t believe I have to sleep. I would so love to stay up until six a.m. just watching this.”
“But you’ve seen it all already.”
“I know, right? Addictive.” She scooched off the chair, placed the bowl on the coffee table, then kissed me on the top of my head. “Good night, Riley,” she said. “See ya in like six hours.”
“Night,” I replied.
She tottered off down the hall, bare feet whispering on wood, then disappeared into her bedroom and shut the door behind her.
I let out a sigh. Tension leaked from my shoulders.
Thank god. I could quit pretending I was fine, that I’d actually taken in anything happening on the screen. I sat frozen on the sofa, my hand on my belly, my gaze on my cell phone, silent on the coffee table.
Jax wouldn’t call me first. I’d told him to back off, and he’d done exactly that.
I reached for the phone, then snatched my hand back as if it’d been bitten.
“Not yet,” I whispered.
What would I do? Call him up and say, “Oh, hey, yeah, remember me? The girl who told you I never wanted to see you again because you work with strippers? Well, I’m pregnant with your unborn child. Also, I’m broke, I have no place to live, and I have no job at the moment apart from the prospect of becoming a server at one of those topless restaurants. Let’s meet up and talk.”
He’d immediately assume I wanted his money or help. Isn’t that what you want? No, it wasn’t what I wanted. It would help to have support, but I wanted to stand on my own two feet.
I’d had to after my parents disowned me, and I’d do it now, too.
I got up and fetched my pillow from the pile of bedclothes in the corner. I plumped it, set it down on the sofa, then lay down and covered myself up. The TV was off. The bathroom light was still on, but everything else was in darkness. I stared at the ceiling, imagining shapes and images on it.