She’s right. I know she is.
But it means using my family connections to get ahead. Bitterness swirls inside me. I have plenty of relations who haveno issues flaunting their name to get whatever they want, but I’m not one of them.
I don’t want to be a Walsh.
I just want to be Bea. An independent woman who can look after herself and doesn’t rely on her family’s money to survive.
I mean, sure, I may have used some of that money to start my business. I hate that I did, but if I wanted to live out my dream, then I needed to. Without it, I’d be working in someone else’s salon, dreaming of what could be.
But I refuse to use a penny more. It would have come in useful recently, but there was no way in hell I was going to ask for a handout. I made my position very clear when I walked away, and I am far too stubborn—proud—to go back on that.
There’s only one pot of money that I might do something with one day. But there are conditions around me getting my hands on that, and I can’t see them happening anytime soon, so I’m better off forgetting that I have a trust fund from my grandparents sitting somewhere with my name on it.
“I’ll think about it,” I mutter before stuffing my mouth with pizza.
I’m full. My stomach bloated with the volume of carbs I’ve devoured since sitting down, but I still want more regardless.
“Bea.” Sienna sighs sympathetically. “What else are you going to do? Your ultrasound is next week.”
I love her. I really do. But I also really want to slam her head in what’s left of my pizza for bringing this up again.
I know.
I know the date is looming, and…and I want to bury my head in the sand and ignore it.
“I’ll think about it,” I promise
It takesthree days for me to accept that reaching out to Hailee is my only option.
In all honesty, I’ve probably already left it too late. It’s taken me weeks to get my head around the idea of having a woman press a wand to my belly to reveal a baby growing inside me. He’s only going to have days to come to terms with this, and that’s only if this works.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” I mutter to myself as I hit send on my message to Hailee.
I’ve got her email address as well, but I figured I’d reach out personally first.
Just like my messages to Everett, it shows as delivered, but as two more days pass, it’s never read.
Sienna nags me multiple times a day to try again, to email, to pick up the phone. Hell, she even offers to drive me to the arena and hold my hand as we demand to see her.
I refuse, obviously. But now, I’m starting to wonder if I should have let her.
Tonight is the night of the Stanley Cup Final. Somehow, Sienna managed to score us tickets. Don’t ask me how she managed that; I think I’d rather not know, to be honest. But she did it, and she point-blank refused to give her spare ticket to one of the others.
She told me that tonight was the night, and I fear she’s not talking about the Vipers winning the cup.
I’m a nervous wreck as I get ready. My stomach is a riot of emotions, and I keep having to stop and breathe for fear I’m going to vomit. Sienna says she has a plan, and I don’t know whether I should be relieved or terrified because of it.
I leave my apartment earlier than necessary. There are only so many times I can pace back and forth through my boxed-up living area before I go stir crazy.
My ultrasound isn’t the only deadline that’s approaching.
I’m also about to be homeless.
I keep looking for a place, but I can barely afford a cardboard box right now. I get too depressed every time I look, and I find myself giving up before I’ve even started. But the clock is ticking, and if I don’t do something soon, I’ll be sleeping on the couch in the salon.
I meet Sienna at a sandwich place. I told her I didn’t want to go for a meal, but she demanded I eat something.
I can’t, though. Even the scent of the food makes me nauseous, so we end up getting sandwiches to go, and with time to kill, we walk to the arena in the hope that the fresh air helps settle me.
