“Oh.” I blink. “Oh man, that’s… great.” I pause. “What’s that got to do with us?”
“You need to get here,” he says.
“Uh… why? Babies take time-”
“Logan.” His voice turns serious. “Please.”
And I get it.
He’s not asking for logistics.
He’s asking for me.
“I’ll be there,” I say.
He hangs up without another word.
Jess comes back inside, purse in hand, already texting.
“Simone went into labor,” I tell her.
Her head snaps up. “Oh.”
She checks her phone, then looks at me. “You should go. Darren probably needs you.”
I nod. He does.
A pang hits me. Simone clearly didn’t call Jess.
“We have to finish our talk,” I say.
“We’ll do it tonight,” she replies, lifting her phone. “We have interviews today, remember?”
“Shit,” I mutter, digging through the sofa cushions for mine.
“I’ll take care of it,” she says. “You go be there for Darren… and Simone.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. I’ll take care of the boys.”
I hesitate.
“Tonight?” I ask.
She nods. “Tonight.”
I leave. And with every step toward the door, I want to turn around and finish what we started.
It feels wrong leaving like this, but Darren needs me right now and I can’t say no.
At the hospital, I find Darren in the maternity ward waiting room, pacing.
Well. As much pacing as you can do in a wheelchair.
He’s rolling back and forth in short, tight lines, hands gripping the rims like he’s about to wear a groove into the tile.
“What are you doing out here?” I ask, dropping into a chair. “Shouldn’t you be with Simone?”
