Corinne keeps talking, desperate now that the floodgates are open. “She’s really pregnant. Like…" her hand makes a motion around her own stomach. "There’s no hiding it. She was holding ultrasound pictures.”
My jaw clenches so tight it hurts. "You're sure?"
Corinne huffs, sounding annoyed. "No, dumbass. She’s pretending for the shits and giggles. Yes! I’m sure. She looked so scared, Ben. I think she thought I'd judge her or something. I mean, I guess, I kinda did."
I can't get my brain to stop spinning. Every fucked-up scenario, every memory of April swirling together until I feel like I might puke.
Arrow leans forward. For once, there’s zero humor in his eyes. “Did she say it was Ben’s?”
Corinne shakes her head again. “She begged me not to tell him. Swore it wasn’t his. That it happened six weeks before she met you. But…” She shrugs, helpless. "She looked so wrecked, Ben. Like she wished it was."
Every word is a hammer, driving the nail deeper.
I rub my hand over my face. My mouth is dry as sandpaper. My heart actually stutters. For a second, the room fades, except for the ringing in my fucking ears.
Corinne keeps talking, her words tumbling over each other. "I saw it on the ultrasound. A little peanut, big enough to see the head and tiny hands."
Arrow slumps back, “Holy shit.”
Shit is right.
My hands are gripping the table so hard it might crack under my fingers.
Six weeks before we met, Club Purgatory. April in white, gasping under me, her body shaking as I made her come for the first time. Her shy little laugh, the scent of her hair.
No. Fucking. Way.
Corinne’s trying to read my face. “Ben, is…is it yours?”
The look on her face scared, but hopeful. It nearly splits me open.
I can’t pretend. Not about this. Not when the truth is slowly crushing my lungs.
"It has to be," I choke out. "April never…she was a virgin when I… when we met. It lines up. All of it."
Arrow lets out a long, low whistle, running a hand over his bald head. “Christ, man.”
Corinne finally lets her hands fall into her lap, napkin twisted tight in her grip. “She begged me not to tell you, Ben. Said she didn’t want to ruin your life.”
My throat burns. “She’s not ruining a fucking thing.”
Arrow’s watching me, eyes sharp. “What are you going to do?”
Corinne’s looking at me, too. Hopeful. Terrified. I don’t hesitate. Not even for a second.
“I’ve got to find her,” I say, pushing my chair back with a scrape and heading straight for the door.
One minute, I’m at the table, Arrow and Corinne staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. Next, I’m flying down Elm, lines on the pavement blurring past my window. Every red light feels like someone slamming the brakes on my chest.
All I can think about is April, standing there in front of Corinne, scared and alone. The way she begged Corinne not to tell me and ruin my life, like she actually believed that was possible.
Fuck that.
The whole drive, my brain is playing the world’s worst highlight reel. The last time I saw her, the way she looked at me like I was the only real thing left in her broken world.
Now she’s alone, surrounded by people who probably treat her like shit on a good day.
The city lights cut across my windshield. I gun it down her street, not caring if I eat a speeding ticket; not caring about anything except her.
