Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
So when she crept silently into the house that morning, I was drinking my coffee and waiting for her on the couch.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” I said quietly, mindful of the kids sleeping upstairs.
She jerked in surprise and slowly turned toward me. “Jesus, Shane, you scared the crap out of me.”
I didn’t say anything. I was too busy staring at her. I’d had a thought—a stupid one, apparently—that she’d dress up when I saw her again. As I took in her sweatpants, flip-flops, and zip-up hoodie, I called myself every kind of idiot there was. Like she’d really be angling for another round after the things I’d said.
“You have to work, right?” she asked, staying close to the door.
I wondered if she was trying to stay as far away from me as possible or if she was hoping for a quick escape.
“Yeah, I have to be there at seven,” I replied finally, looking at her face.
She wouldn’t look at me.
“Then it looks like I have the kids.” Her words were nonchalant, but she still hadn’t moved a foot from the door.
My hand clenched around my coffee cup as the tension in the room seemed to pulsate between us. I’d had so much shit I’d wanted to say, but watching her cower in the doorway made every word I’d planned disappear from my memory.
She took a step back when I stood up, and I swallowed nervously when her back hit the front door.
“I still want you to keep the kids—” I started, and her eyes finally flashed up to mine.
“Why wouldn’t you?” she cut me off, her voice panicked.
“No, I do.” I shook my head. This wasn’t going the way I’d planned. “I’m just saying, in case you were worried, you can still hang out with the kids.”
I could hear her hard breaths in the quiet of the room, and for a second I wondered if she was having some sort of panic attack. Her face drained of all color, and she swayed a little.
“I wasn’t worried,” she whispered, her eyes wide and scared. “I didn’t even think—”
“Look, I know that you didn’t do it maliciously—”
“I didn’t do it?”
“—and I shouldn’t have said that shit to you. You’ve been a huge help with the kids, and I know you probably didn’t plan all that.”
“I didn’t plan it,” she whispered softly to herself.
“So I’m just saying that I’d like to forget about it, ya know? Go back to the way it was before. No drama.” I nodded, finally glad that I’d gotten out what I’d wanted to say.
“You’re saying I’m forgiven?” she asked, staring over my shoulder again.
I paused, something in her voice making me question our entire conversation. I’d gone over all of the points, hadn’t I? I still wanted her to keep the kids, I’d known she wasn’t trying to be a bitch, and I wanted to move past it…Yeah, I’d hit every single one.
“Yeah, Katie, you’re forgiven,” I answered, feeling relieved that I’d gotten the conversation over with. Everything could go back to normal. She’d stay, and I wouldn’t have to worry that my kids would deal with another devastating loss so soon after their mother.
She nodded before turning and walking toward the stairs.
“I’m going to go up and crash on Sage’s floor for an hour before she has to get up,” she said, her back to me. “And Shane?”
“Yeah?”
“Please don’t call me Katie.”
Chapter 3
Kate
Motherfucking-super-spermed-son-of-a-goat-from-Ohio!” I chanted angrily, shaking the little stick in my hand, like that would change the answer it was giving me. I wasn’t even sure what I was saying, but the words rolled off my tongue easily and it felt good to swear.
I was fucking pregnant, and I didn’t know who I was more pissed at—Shane for having an adequate sperm count or the doctor who must have given me a faulty fucking birth control shot.
Why? Why did I have to find myself in the most awkward position imaginable at every possible opportunity? I was always running into something, or saying something I shouldn’t, or opening the door in my period underwear and a ratty tank top for the delivery service I used when I sent paperwork to my clients. And this time I was so royally fucked I couldn’t even focus on the larger implications of that positive pregnancy test.
Oh no. The only thing I could think about was the fact that I’d have to tell Shane something along the lines of, You know when I took advantage of your delicate state? Well, I also stole your sperm. I’m pregnant!
It had been two months since the incident that should never again be brought up, and shit was finally somewhat normal when I was at the Andersons’. Shane was back to ignoring me completely, which frankly was a relief, and I was back to not worrying that I was going to show up one day and the new nanny would bar me from the house.