But who am I kidding? I’m the last person she should trust.
“I’ll takeyour suitcase to your room,” I tell her once we step out of the elevator.
“No need. I’ll take it myself.” She grabs the handle and heads toward the guest room.
Dammit. Her strange behavior, this tension, worries me.
“How about dinner?” I call after her. “I made mac and cheese.”
“Sounds great.” Before I can respond, she closes her bedroom door.
When she eventually steps into the kitchen, she’s wearing a loose white T-shirt and blue shorts. Her hair is no longer braided, just pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. The dark circles under her eyes are more prominent in the light of my kitchen.
“Sit.” I nod toward the breakfast bar. Her quietness makes the alarms in my head go off. I swallow past the lump forming in my throat and set two plates on the table.
“What do you want to drink? A beer? Or soda?”
She peers up at me, her blue eyes dull. “Do you have any apple juice?”
“Yup. One glass of apple juice, coming right up.”
She’s silent as we eat, her attention fixed on her plate. Every time I try to strike up a conversation, she shuts it down with a one- or two-word response.
Anxiety floods me. My knee is bouncing so hard, it hits the table several times.
I can’t do this anymore.
I drop my fork onto my plate with a clank and take a steadying breath. “What’s wrong?”
She grimaces, still not looking at me. “Hayden, please.”
“No. Tell me what’s wrong.” I lean forward, trying to catch her gaze. “Please, Ry.”
Finally, she looks up, her eyes welling with tears. “There’s something we need to talk about.”
My heart sinks. This can’t be good.
“Let’s finish eating first, okay?” she asks.
We finish dinner quickly, neither of us eating much more, and I send her to the living room while I take care of the dishes.
When I join her on the couch, she’s sitting with a throw pillow pressed to her stomach.
“What happened?” I ask, my thoughts spiraling.
She puffs her cheeks and then exhales. “I’m pregnant.”
One…two…three…I count in my head as if that’ll change the meaning. It takes a moment to process, though my body reacts immediately.
Going ramrod straight, I clutch my hands in front of me. “What?”
“I’m pregnant.” She licks her lips. “It’s yours.” The tears threatening in the kitchen have vanished, and her posture is relatively relaxed, like she didn’t just turn my life upside down.Ourlives.
“What about your implant?”
She wrings her hands. “It expired. Two months ago. I didn’t realize.” Her voice cracks, her emotions getting the best of her. “Could itbe because of your piercing? Maybe it caused a condom to break.” She hiccups. “I’m sorry, Hayden.”
My heart is ready to jump out of my chest, and my head is filled with noise. So many thoughts race through my mind. Shock, panic, and fear threaten to drown me.
