“I know.”
“You really think I should tell Jared?” Though she knew the answer, she wanted confirmation. Rather, she needed someone to prod her to the difficult task.
“If you were in his place, wouldn’t you want to know?”
The rapid beating of her heart gave her the answer.
Chapter Five
Forty-three days of sobriety and almost a month with his family worked wonders for Jared. Refreshed and renewed, he was ready to face life again. He still wrestled with guilt and feelings of worthlessness, but he’d lost the desire to drink them away. Mom and Cara had urged him to return to church, or at least pick up a Bible, but he wasn’t ready for that. He still had more reckoning with himself to do before he confronted God.
He’d hated leaving Weatherton, but he had to come home to Jacksonville to complete paperwork for his new job. The position didn’t open until mid-October, but he had to complete a physical, background check, and the contract form by September eighth to secure his spot.
He walked through his house, finding everything as he’d left it. Two stacks of mail were piled neatly on his counter. Thank goodness for caring neighbors who took care of the house while he was gone. After he lowered the thermostat—the first week of September in coastal Carolina differed little from the heat of August—he gathered his bags from where he’d dropped them at the front door.
His mom had insisted on doing all his laundry before he’d left, claiming she missed taking care of him. He hadn’t fully appreciated her outpouring of love until now—when he only had one small bag of dirty clothes from the two nights on his way home. He’d always hated spending his first day home doing laundry, but now he wouldn’t have to.
Once he’d added the few clothes to the laundry hamper and unpacked his suitcase, he returned to the kitchen and sat on a barstool. Piece by piece he went through his mail, sorting it into piles of junk, bills, and others.
The doorbell chimed.
Probably Mr. Gunn returning my key after he saw the truck in the driveway. He grabbed a bakery box off the counter that contained one of his sister’s pecan pies. That and a gift card to the steakhouse was his thank-you gift to the Gunns for watching his house.
Smiling wide, he opened the door. His smile dropped when he saw Sybil Hollis, a woman who lived in his neighborhood—who had also been one of his bad drunken decisions.
Was this some kind of joke? He’d been home less than an hour and was already confronted with a blast from the past.
“Hi.” She rocked on her feet and had her hands behind her back.
She wore a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, an improvement from the racy outfit she’d worn the night they’d gone home together. Another advantage of sobriety—a healthy respect for women and their bodies.
“Hi.” He eyed her warily, curious why she’d stopped by. They’d been friendly before that night, greeting each other as sort of neighbors, but hadn’t acknowledged each other since then.
“I saw your truck and assumed you came home. Mr. Gunn told me you’d gone to Wyoming for a spell, and I’ve been stalking your driveway.” Her cheeks transformed to a bubble gum pink. “Notstalkingstalking—just looking to see if you were home yet.”
“Did you need something?”
“I have to talk to you.” Her chest rose and fell at a fast pace.
“You have my number, right?” He crinkled his eyes, confused by her presence. “You could have called.”
She cringed, and he had a moment of remorse for sounding like a jerk—he hadn’t meant to. “It’s not really an over-the-phone kind of conversation.”
“Oh.” He drew out the two-letter word into a three-second breath. “What’s going on?”
“Can I come in?” She’d moved her hands in front of her, and she dug her nails into her skin.
He nodded and motioned her in, then closed the door behind her. “What’s going on?”
“You might want to sit down.”
“I’m fine here.” The thought to make her leave crossed his mind. Her behavior made him uncomfortable, and he wondered what he’d gotten into. They’d had a one-night stand during one of his drunken nights. Had he gotten involved with a psycho who wouldn’t let it go? No, he knew enough about her to know she had a level head.
She clamped her hands together. “I don’t know how to say this, and I want you to know upfront, I don’t expect anything of you. I just thought you had the right to know.”
He furrowed his brows. “Know what?”
“I. I’m uh…” She trailed off and took a deep breath then exhaled slowly. “I’m pregnant.”
