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Penny
I’ve never felt so drained in my life. Even when I was pregnant with Autumn, I didn’t feel exhausted like this. But I’m pretty sure my body is in shock, and coupled with the vomiting, I have no energy left.
“So, what’s the plan?” Jordan asks.
I’m curled in a ball between her and my mom on the bed. Declan called in the cavalry, and I’m not sure whether to be extremely thankful or upset with him. No one knew anything about Autumn’s sperm donor, and now my whole circle knows.
“Nothing,” I tell her honestly. “I signed an NDA. No one is supposed to know anything.”
“He shouldn’t be able to get away with something like that. You had no representation. You were just a kid,” my mom argues.
“In the eyes of the law, I was an adult. I made a choice and I have to take responsibility for it.”
“So, what, we just ignore the fact that this guy poked holes in a condom? If that’s not illegal, then I don’t know what is.”
I cringe. This whole time, I thought Autumn was a miracle baby, getting through two forms of birth control, but it turns out that Brad had other malicious plans. It’s a low blow, but regardless, it is what it is. I wouldn’t trade Autumn for the world.
“I never have to see him again. So, who cares?”
“But what if Declan wants to adopt Autumn?” Jordan whispers.
Yeah. That’s something I thought of as well. I haven’t just been sitting around, twiddling my fingers for the past six weeks while I internally freak out about how I’m technically now a wife. I’ve also been freaking out about my daughter. If Declan wants to adopt her, I will have to get Brad to sign his parental rights over. It doesn’t matter if he was on the birth certificate or not. Which means I would have to come face-to-face with him. And as far as I know, he didn’t even know he had a daughter. I handled everything through the lawyer that was sent my way and never once had to see or talk to Brad.
I always figured I would be tracked down eventually, but when I think about it, I’m not sure if any of his family knew I kept Autumn. I could have given her up for adoption or aborted her. The NDA just said that if paternity came back positive, I could never tell anyone who the father was. Nowhere in it did it say what I had to do with the child.
“Declan adopt Autumn?” my mom questions.
I look at Jordan, and she cringes and mouths, ‘Sorry.’
“Just let it go, mom.”
She sits up and looks at me. “Let it go? That’s not happening. Why would Jordan say that?” She looks to me, then Jordan, and back again.
I push my hair behind my ears. “Because we’re together,” I tell her. It’s not exactly a lie, but it’s not the whole truth either.
Her eyes narrow, and I look away. “Since when?”
“Uh, maybe I should just… go,” Jordan says, rising from the bed.
“Sit your cute butt down, right now, Jordan Bailey.” My mom points at her and then the bed, completely serious. Jordan climbs in next to me, and my mom is looking at us like we’re two teenagers who just got caught smoking weed in the high school bathroom. “One of you better start talking, right now,” she demands.
Jordan and I look at each other, and she’s the one to break first. “PennyandDeclanaremarried,” she spews out so fast that it takes my brain a few seconds to understand what she just said.
My mom blinks once. Twice. Three times. And then her eyes go comically wide. “What did you just say?”
I have the forthright to look ashamed. This is not how I wanted my mom or dad to find out about Declan and me. Sure, we’ve been married for over a month now, but nothing’s really changed between us. Just the sex. Lots and lots of sex. Okay, and he’s around all the time, but that’s neither here nor there.
“Declan and I got married in Vegas,” I tell her honestly. I guess this is happening right now.
Her brows furrow. “I’m confused. Declan is supposed to propose to you.”
Now it’s my turn for my eyes to widen. “Excuse me?” I ask.
My mom slaps a hand over her mouth and all three of us look at each other. What the hell is going on?
“You know what,” my mom gets up from the bed and walks to the door, “we’re going to pretend like we never had this conversation. I’m going to make you something to eat.”
