“I don’t really know what there is to discuss. We can’t have a baby…we’reeighteen.I’m in school, you’re killing yourself on the ranch.”
“So you quit school and stay here—”
She cut me off with a new sharpness in her voice. “I quit school? One semester in and you think I should quit to be your housewife?”
“I can take care of you and the baby. You can live here, and I’ll take care of us.”
“We’re eighteen.” She sniffled. “I don’t want that.”
“What about me? What about what I want?”
“I don’t think you want it either.”
Wrong.
“Besides, I’m the one who has to give up everything in this scenario,” she said.
Except she wasn’t. Because this seemed so much like fate—after so many shitty things happening all at once, there could be a tiny glimmer of hope. If she didn’t keep the baby, I would give up the chance to have a family again.
“Blair…”
“I didn’t call you to have this fight. You promised you wouldn’t freak out or get mad.”
How was I supposed to not freak out?
“That was before I knew you were pregnant, and not letting me be involved in any decisions.”
“Please, don’t make this harder on me.Please.” She sighed into the phone, and I hated that I could perfectly picture the heartbreak on her face. “I’m trying to do what’s best here.”
“Baby…”
“I need to go. I have a class soon.”
“Blair, can we talk more about this before you make any decisions? Let me have a say.”
My words fell on deaf ears. I could tell by the exasperated exhale she responded with. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Please? I love you.”
“I love you so much,” she said quietly before hanging up.
The instant the line went dead, I rode back to the barn relying solely on muscle memory while my mind went a hundred miles per hour. I needed to talk to her in person, then she’d see how serious I was about making the best of this situation.
A baby at eighteen wasn’t ideal, obviously, but we could make it work. My parents had kids when they were young, and it worked out. If Mom had waited for another five or ten years, she would’ve died long before we reached adulthood. So maybe having kids young was some sort of divine plan.
Fuck,what I would’ve given to get her input on things. If anybody had the power to change Blair’s mind about something, it was my mom.
I went through the motions as though I’d been sedated, my limbs moved by marionette strings. By the time I was done getting my horse put away and fed, I was the last man around, the other ranch hands likely halfway through dinner already. Not that I was in a position to eat with my queasy stomach, nor did I have the time.
Without allowing myself a second to overthink, I beelined for the big house, stormed up the stairs, and packed a bag.
Sure, Blair’s appointment was weeks away, but that didn’t stop the urgency from coursing through my veins. Ineededto be with her. The only way I was having another discussion about the situation was in person, and we desperately needed to have another discussion.
When I barreled back down the stairs, I collided with Austin rounding the corner. His massive hands gripped my shoulders to keep me from toppling backward—center of balance shot, thanks to the overstuffed backpack slung over my shoulder.
“Where are you going?”
I white-knuckled the banister. “I need to get to Blair.”
