Retreats.
Tips again.
Arguing with himself?—
Then he goes for it.
“Hey, sorry—don’t mean to bug you,” he says, voice cracking halfway through. “Just… you seemed kinda lonely too. Thought maybe…”
He trails off, waiting for mercy.
Lonely too.
It hits me in the chest.
He’s alone. He sees me alone.
I have a lie saved for these occasions.
For when my heart thaws for a beat.
I look him straight in the heartbreak.
“I’m pregnant.”
My eyes slide to Andrew.
He’s tossing back a swig of water behind the bar, watching.
He lowers the bottled water, swallows hard,
wipes his mouth with the back of his hand,
twists the cap too tight, probably thinking?—
Look at her, already workin’ the room,
actin’ like she ain’t tied to nobody.
My gaze finds Mr. Martini again.
“Yeah pregnant in a bar.
“‘Cause I’m a fuckin’ disaster.”
I make me look bad, toxic, dangerous.
A reason to make him thinkhedodgedme.
A line that doesn’t ruin his confidence for the rest of the night.
His mouth lifts in a sad, small smile.
“Oh. Wow. I—uh…”
He glances down at my stomach.
I push out as far as it will go,
