I don’t know what to do with that.
She moves toward the door, then stops with her hand on the knob.
“I don’t know what your father told you over the years.” Her voice shakes. “But I love you, Foster. I always have. I just didn’t love you the way you deserved.” More tears fall, and she wipes them off her face.
Then she leaves.
I sit in the chair, staring at the empty space where she was standing as though my brain is trying to decide if I should chase her or pretend none of this even happened.
Part of me wants to run after her.
The other part of me wants to say fuck it all and stay numb. Push away the way her words made me feel.
I finally stand and look out the window.
Decker is on the sidewalk with her. He pulls her into a hug as though it’s normal. As though this is what families do. She nods, saying something. His hand stays on her back as if he doesn’t want her to fall apart.
My head tips back toward the sky, tears burning in my eyes.
When does the pain stop?
I rub my chest.
I’m so tired of living like this. This isn’t the world I want my child to grow up in. This isn’t what I want Callie to feel when she looks at me.
The change has to start with me. Whether or not she takes me back is up to her, but I have to at least try. For her. For our child. But mostly, for myself.
Chapter
Sixty
Callie
* * *
“Lex, I told you I have an appointment.” I’m on speakerphone, still half-dressed and staring at my reflection. I’m going to need a lot of makeup to fix this. “We can do it tomorrow.”
“Just meet me at my place,” Lex pleads. “Your doctor is literally a mile away. You can walk with them there, our shoot will be done, and you’ll still make your scan.”
I groan. “You’re acting like this is a hostage negotiation.”
“It is,” she says as if she’s proud of it. “This guest has limited time.”
“And you’re still refusing to tell me who it is.” I run my brush through my hair, figuring I have to start somewhere.
“They want it to be a surprise.”
My stomach twists thanks to the real reason for my mood today. “I messaged Foster. He might be at the doctor.”
“Why would you do that?” Lex’s protective chihuahua side comes out whenever Foster’s name is involved.
“Because he’s the father,” I say as if it’s obvious. “And I want him there when we find out what we’re having. I’m trying to be the grown-up here.”
Which is hilarious, considering I’m the only one. He never really responded to my message with words. Just a thumbs-up.
A dumb, little yellow thumbs-up like he didn’t just break me open and then act as if I asked him to pick up a container of milk on the way home.
Whatever.
