“Is that all?” he finally asks.
Anger and frustration give way to upset when I realize that he genuinely couldn’t care less.
“Yes.” My reply is quick, as I’m determined not to reveal the thickness in my throat. “Wait,” I add before he inevitably hangs up.
“Yep?”
I don’t need to be a genius to figure out that our relationship is over. Still, that doesn’t mean that he gets to avoid an acknowledgment. I’m done with Tucker Price treating me like something he just stepped in when all I’ve ever done is offer him, and his family, my respect. I have two weeks until the due date, and I need to find closure so I can move on and piece my life back together.
It feels too juvenile to simply ask if we’re done, and I struggle to find a way to ask the same question without coming off as desperate or needy. I’m neither of those things despite thepicture that’s been painted of me around campus, rumors fueled by the guy who I know is growing impatient on this call.
“Listen, I gotta get to class in, like, two minutes, so can we?—”
“When were you going to grow a pair of balls and admit that you don’t want to be a part of my or the baby’s life? Because I don’t think this was ever about money, Tucker. I think you freaked out at the prospect of becoming a father before you finished college, and now you’re running away from your responsibilities.” I prod a finger into the center of my chest. I know he can’t see me, but the action only deepens my determination. “I mean, you couldn’t even bring yourself to end things with me before you were jumping into bed with other girls.” I end my speech on a cynical laugh and wait for Tucker to, for once in his life, speak the truth.
After a second, I feel sure he’ll drop the call, although what leaves his mouth next is no surprise.
“I’m not talking about this now, Billie.”
Climbing out of the bath, I risk slipping with only one free hand to steady me. “Ah, yes, because I’m in the perfect position to bring this conversation up.” My best efforts to remain calm fail as I continue ranting. “How about you look at it this way? The sooner you admit that you cheated and that we’re through, the sooner the baby and I will be out of your life for good.”
“I fucked someone else.”
His immediate response, coupled with the cold way he said it, stops me in my tracks. I knew the truth, but I wasn’t fully ready to hear it. Even if I’d convinced myself that I was.
Setting my phone down on the sink, I switch it to speaker and snag a towel from the heated radiator, wrapping it around me for warmth.
“Do you have any intention of being around for or after the birth?” I ask, opting to skip over his confession. I got my answer as his former girlfriend, and now I need to know where I stand as a mother.
“Billie …” This time, when he says my name, Tucker’s voice is a little softer.
Maybe his empathetic tone is born out of guilt for his behavior or what he’s about to say next, but honestly, I don’t much care. Mom is right; I need to start looking after myself because my ex-boyfriend sure as shit isn’t going to.
“I’ll take that as a no then, shall I?” I’m incredulous, angry, and—for the very first time during my pregnancy—maternal. Rejecting me is one thing, but hurting my unborn child is quite another.
“I never said that,” he argues, background music fading out and replaced with traffic noise. Maybe he is on his way to a class and isn’t a twenty-four/seven bullshitter.
A message drops down from Dad, and I tap the notification.
Dad
Billie, can you call me, please?
“It’s going to be really hard to visit now that you’re in Brooklyn.”
“I’m in Brooklyn because I was left without a choice or any support in Texas!” I bite out, quickly typing out a response to Dad and setting my phone down on the shelf. “And physical distance shouldn’t really matter when it comes to your newborn baby.”
“I have finals this year.” Tucker is considerably less self-assured than when he first answered the phone.
Good. He should be downright ashamed of himself right now.
“So, no then?” I press once more, now adamant that he’ll own his choices.
“Billie—”
“It’s a simple answer, Tucker—yes or no,” I cut him off, anticipating his brush-off before he said it.
“No, all right?! No!” he growls, his true colorsinevitably surfacing like a poisonous oil slick spreading across crystal ocean water.
