But after a night spent tossing and turning, waiting for the sun to rise, I was ready to see my girl and beg her for forgiveness. I pull into the underground lot beneath Willow’s apartment building and climb out, heading straight for the elevator to take me up to the penthouse.
Stepping out into the foyer, my instincts instantly go on alert. It’s too quiet, too still.
“Willow?” I call out to her.
I walk toward the kitchen, calling her name again but then I see what is lined up on the counter. Pregnancy tests, and a lot of them, several different brands in various colors.
“Wills, why do you have pregnancy tests?” I shuffle the boxes and then turn around, waiting for her to hop out and tell me this is all a joke.
“Willow?” I call again.
And this time I’m met with a god awful, gut curdling sob and it’s coming from the bathroom. I’m moving before I know what I’m doing, shoving my way into the bathroom to find her on the floor, knees against her chest, her arms wrapped around them and tears streaming down her face.
“Red?” I reach for her face, “Red, what is it?”
She sucks in breaths like she can’t get enough air and I’ve seen enough panic attacks to recognize it for what it is. I hold her face, keeping my eyes on hers.
“Hey,” I soothe, “It’s okay. Baby, look at me.”
Her eyes finally settle on mine, “Bast?” She rasps my name in question, her voice raw from her crying.
“I’m here, Wills,” I assure her, grasping her to bring her in close, “I’ve got you.”
What’s happened to bring this on? What is going on?
“I’m so scared,” She says into my chest.
“What is it?” I ask, “What’s happened?”
She opens her mouth to speak but no words come out and then she pushes away from me, her hands remaining on my body, but her eyes drop to the tiles beneath us. I follow her sight and stop short, seeing the little blue and white stick sitting next to us.
“Is that…?”
“I’m pregnant, Sebastian.” She breathes, watery eyes flicking back to mine, so much fear and uncertainty shining through that expression.
Pregnant. She’s pregnant.
“Are we having a baby?” I ask, blinking slowly, my brain not quite catching up.
A sob bursts from her, shattering something vital inside of me. “Hey, it’s okay.” I bring her in close again, “It’s okay.”
“I’m not supposed to be pregnant!” She cries, “I’m on the pill. This shouldn’t be possible.”
I don’t have anything to say, what can I say, except, “It’s okay.”
“Okay!?” She snaps away from me, “How is thisokay!?”
I don’t even know. But I hate seeing these tears, this fear, I hate seeing her falling apart right in front of me.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her as another heaving sob chokes out of her. I cradle her head to my chest, rocking her as she cries into my shirt while my eyes focus on that test laying on the tiles beside us.
Pregnant. I’m going to be a dad.
Holy shit.
I’m going to be a dad.
I don’t let her sense the dread creeping in, I purposely keep my body relaxed, stroking her hair as I try to soothe her, all the while a blooming pit of unease uncurls in my stomach. There’s a reason I never contemplated having kids, my life, my job, it’s too dangerous for a child. It isn’t that I didn’t want any, I just never entertained it for this very reason.
