“I am not raising a child on my own, Garrett,” I said. “I know what it’s like to grow up without parents. I am not doing that to my child.”
“I can’t do this,” Garrett kept repeating, apparently oblivious to what I had to say.
I rolled my eyes, pulled up a kitchen chair, and sat in front of him as Garrett stared listlessly at the ground.
“I can’t do this,” he said.
Finally, after that seemed like a full minute of him just acting like an idiot and saying the same thing ad nauseam, he looked me in the eyes.
“I can’t be a father,” he said. “I’m not ready for it.”
“Well, tough shit, that’s not something you get to choose.”
“What if I pay you child support?” Garrett said. “Actually, you know what, fuck it, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to have Cole give the club some—”
“Who the hell is Cole?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Like hell it doesn’t,” I said with a sneer. “And also, no, that’s not going to cut it.”
Garrett snorted.
“What we had was supposed to be a one-night stand, one night of blissful, taboo pleasure and nothing more. Are you going to get an abortion? Are you even willing to consider it?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Tell you what,” Garrett said, standing up. “If you’re not willing to abort, then I’m not willing to partake. I feel like I should have an equal share in the matter.”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” I said, and by now, I was feeling so angry, I could have slapped him. “I’m sorry I’m Mason’s sister. I’m sorry I’m ruining your lifestyle. I’m sorry that life conspired to make this a shitty situation. But if you fucking walk out that door without agreeing to be a part of this, so help me God, I will make sure that your life is hell on Earth at the club. And you know exactly how I can do that.”
Except if it’s hell on Earth for you, it’ll be hell on Earth for me. Your problems are my problems.
“What would it take for you to give it up?” Garrett said. “Either abortion or adoption. Shit, I’ll pay for the hospital bills if it means that kid gets adopted by some rich family in California.”
“Nothing,” I growled. “And don’t you fucking dare ever suggest anything like it again.”
Garrett sighed, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and looked at me. For the briefest of moments, I felt like I could see past the bullshit in his words and see the fear in his eyes. The fear of taking on a task he truly didn’t believe he wasn’t ready for. Certainly, there was some aspect of him upset at the potential to give up his lifestyle in eight months, but I saw real fear of inadequacy.
Unfortunately, whatever empathy I had for him went right out the fucking door when his next action was to leave without saying anything.
“Garrett!”
But he shut the door and hurried off. I had never felt so hurt, so angry, so…betrayed.
So alone.
And that was fucking saying something.
I could feel tears forming in my eyes, but they were not the tears of someone upset at loss. They were angry tears, tears held when an opponent dared to poke you in the weakest spot possible. They were the tears that were washing away whatever sympathy I had for Garrett.
I had to try and make this right before the tears finished, lest I become a bitter mother and a bitter person.
I called Garrett on his cell. Three times, actually. All three times, not only did I not get an answer, the call went straight to voicemail, like he wasn’t even pretending that he wasn’t noticing my calls.
In a calmer moment, I might have recognized that Garrett, with the benefit of a little more time, might calm down and find the strength and courage to move forward. After all, no man in the world wanted the surprise announcement about an unexpected pregnancy. It was literally a life-altering event.
It would have helped, though, if Garrett had had some emotional awareness and honesty. And since he had none of that, I resorted to the nuclear option.
