The results.
I don’t know why I’m nervous. I know what it’s going to say.
Everett Donnelly is the only man I’ve slept with in a very long time. There is no doubt in my mind that he’s the father.
I think I’m nervous for him, which is equally as stupid.
My hand trembles as I swipe my screen and open the email. I scan through the text until I find the inevitable.
Everett Donnelly is the father of my child.
I stumble back to the couch with my eyes locked on the result.
Tears burn my eyes.
Is he reading this right now?
Does he already know?
Or is he too busy to check his emails?
Maybe he doesn’t care and hasn’t been waiting for it like I have.
Despite attempting to stalk him online for the past week, there has been nothing.
No parties, no women.
It’s like he walked out of that hospital and became a ghost.
Guilt twists up inside me. I hate that he might be hiding because of me.
From what I’ve learned online, Everett loves to party, and the fact he’s not now…well, I can’t help but jump to conclusions.
The reality is that it probably has nothing to do with me. He probably hasn’t given me or the baby he saw on the screen last week a second thought.
Absently, my hand presses against my stomach, protecting my little one.
I suck in a deep breath through my nose and blow it out through my mouth in the hope of slowing my racing heart, but it doesn’t do anything.
Finally, I close the email and open Sienna’s messages.
Bea: The results are in …
She instantly begins typing.
Sienna: Has he messaged?
Bea: Not yet. Do you think he will?
Sienna: He said he would.
Bea: I’m sure he makes a lot of promises to a lot of women…
Sienna: This is different.
Bea: Is it?
I drop my cell into my lap and flop back on the couch as thoughts spiral through my mind.
