“Let me say this. You have no reason to believe me. We met for one night and I gave it up after a couple of jokes in the elevator and some great calamari, but the truth is, this is your child. I haven’t been with anyone for a while before or since.
“And this baby …”
I try to continue but nothing else comes out. The words ‘you're free to live your life without worrying or thinking about me or this baby’ refuse to come out.
“What do you want?” he asks in the face of my silence.
That wasn’t what I’d been expecting either.
The question sends me back against the headboard again, contemplating. For the past few weeks, I’ve asked myself thissame question over and over again. Even as I sat in my doctor’s office, her confirming the results of my pregnancy test.
She’d gone down the list of options but I couldn’t think straight.
After finding out the biggest news of my life, coupled with losing my job, I was in a state of numbness.
But now, tonight after seeing those droplets of blood in the bathroom and the horrific fear over what it could mean.
My hands move to my stomach.
A family.
That’s what I want.
“This baby,” I answer, clearing my throat and lifting my chin. “I want this baby.” My answer is firm and for the first time since finding out, there’s not a doubt in my mind.
Fear? Yes.
Uncertainty? Most definitely.
But no doubt. Not about the life growing inside of me.
Everything else is a mystery though.
“Listen, for all I know you could have a girlfriend or?—”
“I’m single,” Travis says, not allowing me to finish.
“I’ll take your word for it. In any case, the last thing you want to deal with is becoming a father.”
“And you get to make that decision for me?” he asks, his voice deepening.
“You said it yourself. Earlier tonight,” I remind him.
“You’re busy trying to win a championship or something,” I say.
Awareness blooms in the line of his forehead.
“I’d pretty much assumed we’d never see each other again, and it’s not like I was planning to make you a part of this whole thing. That said …”
I press my hands to my belly again.
“You’re off the hook. I won’t come after you for child support or anything. If you want, I can have a lawyer draw up papers relinquishing your paternal rights …”
I trail off the moment Travis’s eyes darken.
With measured movements he rises from my bed, never breaking eye contact. The air between us swirls with an added layer of discord.
Something I’ve said has caused tension to enter in the set of his shoulders.
