“Of course it’s my name,” he replies skeptically.
I spin, scoffing. “Sure. And you definitely live in Nashville.Ooh, I’m a unicorn.”
He prickles uncomfortably at my mocking tone. “I’m sorry. Have I done something wrong?”
Déjà vu hits me like a tidal wave when I close the distance between us and jab him in the chest. This time, we’re not in a dark supply closet. “No. Yes! I don’t know. All I know is, I’m tired of being sick and searching for you, and now, you’re here, I don’t know how to tell you.”
His stony expression is solid as concrete. “Tell me what?”
Those midnight irises study me closely, waiting. For every second that passes, his jaw ticks impatiently. Whatever his response, I’ve got this—we’vegot this. I resist the protective urge to lay a hand over my stomach and rip off the metaphorical Band-Aid.
Two lines flipped my world upside down, and I’m about to do the same to his with two words.
“I’m pregnant.” My voice is oddly calm, though the all-body tremble is hard to hide.
Weeks to prepare, and I’m still a bundle of horrible nerves, creeping and bubbling under the surface of my skin until I want to scratch myself raw.
The silence is loud and screaming to be broken.
“It’s yours. I’m keeping the baby, and there are zero expectations for you to be involved, but you deserve to know.”
The confession hangs in the air, heavy with emotion and…hope? Hope he wants to be involved, if only for our child’s sake.
At first I think Warren didn’t hear me until he suddenly rears back as if I’ve slapped him, eyes wide in horror, complexion sickly. I’d expected shock, but this is something completely different. He looks haunted.
I take a cautious step forward, hands twisting in front of me. “Warren?”
He blinks slowly. The deathly silence stretches between us.
“Please say something,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that, it’s just…I’ve been trying to find you for weeks and?—”
“That’s impossible.” His voice is hollow and flat. “You can’t be pregnant.”
“I assure you, I am, and before you ask if I’m sure the baby is yours, it is, considering you’re the only man I’ve been with for months.” I offer him a wobbly smile, hoping to cut the fog of tension. “I would’ve told you as soon as I found out, but we never traded numbers or last names. You’re like a ghost.”And you look like one.
Warren continues retreating toward the door, shaking hands raised, silently begging me to keep my distance. I’ve run through every reaction possible, but nothing could’ve primed me for this scenario.
“I can’t.” He shakes his head vigorously, his hair tumbling free from its sleek style. “This isn’t happening. It’s a mistake.”
My heart fractures when he turns and strides out of the room, not uttering a word.
My hand drifts to my stomach as tears spring to my eyes.
Guess it’s you and me, Button.
FOURTEEN
WARREN
No.
This is a nightmare.
A sick fucking nightmare I’m mentally shaking myself to wake up from as I stumble back toward the party.
The double doors swing open, revealing the mingling wedding guests and happy newlyweds in the center of the room. Music filters through the speakers, barely audible. All I hear is Harriet’s soft voice.
I’m pregnant.
