Fear ripples through me. I shouldn’t have told Aston of all people, but after I left Braelyn at the hospital, I walked all the way back here in the cold and the snow, doing nothing but thinking. I’m scared. That’s the not-so-simple truth. I’m freaking terrified of not only being pregnant but also of what being pregnant with Josh’s baby will mean for my life.
I’m not ready for anyone to know yet. I’m not ready for this to be my story. Not until I have it figured out a bit more. Until I have a strategy and feel strong and capable instead of weak and powerless. But then Aston came home and demanded answers while holding me and promising to help me and take care of me and make all of this better.
Aston.
My brother’s best friend. The man who fights with me one minute, then is colder than ice the next. Now he’s staring at me like he’s never seen me before, an opera of emotions flashing across his face one by one.
“Pregnant?” he finally utters.
I don’t bother answering. It’s not really a question anyway.
“How?” His eyes snap shut, and he shakes his head at his stupid question. “Josh’s?”
“Yes.”
His eyes open, and he’s calmer now, more clinical. Doctor mode. “Does he know?”
“No.”
“How far along are you?”
I shrug. “No clue. My guess is somewhere around eight weeks.”
“Okay.” His head bobs up and down as he absorbs this, but then his eyes flicker with something before they turn clinical again just as fast. “Are you keeping it?”
“I think so. I’m not… well, I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think so. I have money and family and a good, stable job with great insurance. It’s much sooner than I wanted, but I have it a lot easier than many other women in my position.”
“Then the tears are because of Josh?” he questions, and I swallow and stare down at my hands knotted in my lap. Shockingly, my tears have stopped. Something about telling him brought me an odd calm.
“I don’t want him to be the father of my child.”
“He wants you back. I’ve only had a couple of interactions with him, but it’s clear as day. It wasn’t me who claimed you as off-limits. It had to be him.”
“I worry that once he finds out I’m pregnant, it’ll make him more determined. He’ll make this even harder. I know he will. He’ll be everywhere. And he wasn’t… good to me. I can’t go down that road with him again. I can’t, but more importantly, I won’t. So, yeah, that’s going to be tough. And I don’t particularly want him in my child’s life, but I’m not sure how to work that.”
“Was he physically abusive with you?”
“No. Well, not really. He never hit me or anything. But he was emotionally and verbally abusive. And the threat of physical stuff was very much there.”
“Motherfucker,” he hisses, releasing me to scrub his hands up and down his face. “That son of a bitch motherfucker.” His posture is rigid, and he looks as though he’s trying to calm himself down with deep breaths and bouncing knees. His reaction is stronger than I was expecting. “I’m shocked your friends haven’t killed him,” he grits out. “Especially Roman. That guy is scary.”
I snicker thinking about my big, burly, wolf-eyed, tattooed, bad boy friend who actually has the heart of a puppy. “They wanted to. Especially Roman because yeah, he can be scary. I wouldn’t mess with Forest either, and he was ready to lead the charge. None of them ever liked him. I wouldn’t let them do anything. He wasn’t worth it, and I was so relieved to be free of him I just wanted distance and never to look back. I didn’t want to engage with him or start something. It wasn’t for them to fight my battle. It was my job, and leaving him is how I did that. I hadn’t realized what it felt like to take a breath because I had been held underwater for so long and forced to drown.”
“You know I can ruin his life,” he notes, not exactly kidding. He twists to look at me. “He technically works for me. I’m his attending, and he’s a third-year. I can make his life hell.”
I pan a hand toward him. “Knock yourself out, but you don’t need to get involved or fight my battle either. It’s my mess.”
“We’re both a mess,” he says with a weird sort of chuckle. I can smell the beer on his breath, but I can’t tell if he’s drunk or not. He doesn’t seem like it, but Aston is reserved and doesn’t show his hand easily.
“Yes.” I fall back against the cushion, staring at the dancing flames in the hearth. “We most definitely are.”
“How do you work with him?”
I toss my hands up. “Most of the time, it’s work. Other than him dropping notes in my locker and making sure I see him a couple of times a day. He was mad at me for breaking up with him and sulked about it, so he didn’t outright confront me untilthe other day. The doctors round and input orders electronically, or we do it for you, and I don’t have to bother you unless I need something, and even then, I can text it.”
“You’re brave. Braver than I am.”
“I’m not. I’m a coward who doesn’t want anyone at work to know what he did to me because I’m ashamed I stayed for as long as I did, and I don’t want the gossip. I’m a Fritz. We avoid gossip like the plague.”
