“Well … that’s great, Max. Listen—this doesn’t mean that has to change.”
He shot me a defeated look. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, that’s totally fine. You can choose how much you want to be involved with the baby. You can be with Madison.”
Max stood up and started pacing back and forth in front of the bench. “What am I going to tell her? She can get … pretty jealous. Things are going so well right now; this is going to freak her out.”
Panic simmered beneath my skin. “I’m sorry for the bad timing. It’s not like I wanted this to happen.”
Ugh.It was all so ironic. If Jason and I had stuck to our three-year plan, I could have been sharing this moment with him—and I would feel much more excited about it.
Max stopped pacing directly in front of me. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault—at least, not any more than mine. I don’t know … I guess the condom failed.” He sat back down andturned to face me. “I haven’t even asked—how are you feeling? Did the doctor say everything is going okay so far?”
I exhaled. It was nice of him to ask. “So far I feel fine.”
“I’m glad.” He looked back down at his feet. “So … I guess … it sounds like … you want to have the baby?” He met my eyes again.
My knee-jerk reaction was shock, but I guess it made sense that he would ask me that. It was an unplanned pregnancy with a man I barely knew, who had already moved on with another woman. A woman he had history with.
But in that moment, I realized I had never even considered not having the baby, as much as it had caught me by surprise. The circumstances were less than ideal, but I was trying hard to look at it the way my mom and Ellie were—like a gift. A lovely surprise. After all, I was rapidly approaching my midthirties—what if this was my one and only chance to be a mother?
“Yes, I do.” I held his gaze, feeling confident for the first time since taking a pregnancy test in that grocery-store bathroom a week before.
He took a slow, deep breath, then put his hand on my leg. It felt nice. Steadying. “Okay—then I’m here. I’ll do whatever I can. I’ll be a father.”
I smiled, not quite believing the words coming out of his mouth. Then I gave a small laugh. “Oh my God.”
“Oh my God is right,” he echoed with a laugh of his own.
We sat in stunned silence for a moment. “So … you’re going to tell her?” I asked.
“Yeah … I can’t hide something this huge from her.” Max took another deep breath and looked at me. “Listen, what do you need from me? Are there, I don’t know, any doctor appointments you want me to go to with you? Or …?”
“No, I’m okay for now, thanks. My next doctor’s appointment isn’t for another month or so.”
“You have health insurance?”
“Yeah, through work. And I have my mom to help too.”
“Good.” Max stood up and put his hands in his pockets. “Well, keep me posted. And again—let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“I will.”
We stood looking at each other for a moment, then he bent toward me and pulled me in for a hug. I was caught by surprise but didn’t fight it. “Everything’s going to be great,” he reassured me. Then he turned and walked away.
I noticed he’d left his cup of coffee on the bench. I reached for it and turned around to wave at him, but he was pretty far down the sidewalk, with his phone to his ear. He turned to cross the street, and I caught a clear glimpse of his profile. The worry and panic I’d seen on his face just minutes ago were gone. In its place: a wide smile.
CHAPTER2
ISTIFLED AYAWNas I left the conference room and walked back to my cubicle. The number of staff meetings we’d been having at work lately was maddening. It was typical, though, since we’d just taken on a new client. But this pregnancy meant I was having one hell of a time staying awake for them.
Remember, you’re lucky to have this job at all, after the mess you made.
I didn’t handle it so well, when I came home that day last year to find Jason and all of his things gone.
I’d called him in a panic, but when he answered, his voice was frighteningly calm. He said, surely I had to have seen it coming.
I couldn’t stay in what had beenourapartment alone, so I ran to my mom’s. For weeks, I holed up in my childhood bedroom, emerging only to use the bathroom and pour myself refills of red wine, vodka—really, any form of alcohol. I wasn’t picky.
