Her face looks flushed and I don’t know if it’s from her not feeling well or because she’s soaking in a hot bath.
“I’m fine. I slept really good, I just need to soak my achy muscles.” She knows I’m not buying her lies. “Really.”
I’m not going to argue with her, because if the shoe was on the other foot, I know I’d be doing the same damn thing. “All right. I’m going to go work out. Tony will be here at seven thirty to take us to the office. Anything you need from me before I go?”
She nods. “Will you make the bed? I’m just too tired. I’m going to soak for a bit longer in here.”
“Sure.”
She offers me a tight, unreassuring smile. “Have a good workout.”
Even sick, she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. I toss on a pair of joggers and a t-shirt before I pull the plush comforter up on the bed. I grab all the decorative throw pillows and begin arranging them on top of the comforter, but I’m doing a poor job at making them look nice. I knock a stack of papers off Gracie’s nightstand, and as they fall to the floor, I realize it’s her release papers from the urgent care.
I grab them, placing them neatly back into a pile when I see the words “pregnancy confirmation” with follow up orders to see an OB/GYN. I pick the papers back up and also see a note for pre-natal vitamins.
My heart stops dead when I see Gracie’s name on the paperwork—Grace Morgan—next to her date of birth. The name, address, and telephone number of the urgent care is listed at the top of the paperwork, along with yesterday’s date.
Pregnant.
I need a second, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
Fuck.
Nausea, vomiting, body aches, fatigue. All symptoms of pregnancy. Why in the fuck didn’t I see this?
She lied to me. She’s known since yesterday and said it was a virus. My hands tremble, the papers shaking wildly. This was not supposed to happen. “Fuck.” I punch at the air, sending the papers flying across the bedroom.
“Drew?” Gracie’s voice is weak, and then I realize she’s out of the bath, standing in the bathroom doorway.
I bury my face in my hands. I cannot bring myself to look at her. I can hear her bare feet pad across the floor, and I can feel her next to me. My entire body shakes with anger as I breathe, trying to control myself.
I open my eyes to see Gracie wrapped in a towel, bending down to pick up the papers. She’s shaking as badly as I am when she approaches, stopping in front of me. She sets the papers on the nightstand and wraps her arms around her waist in a protective stance.
“I was going to tell you—”
“You fucking lied to me!” I shout at her, cutting her off. “You said you had a virus.”
She takes two steps backwards, her entire body trembling in fear. I’ve never raised my voice to her. I’ve never had her scatter away in fear and I feel like a fucking asshole, but right now, I’m too pissed to care.
“I didn’t lie.” Her voice is tiny, barely above a whisper. “I have a virus…and I’m also pregnant.”
I don’t know if it’s anger or rage or hurt…but I pick the papers off the nightstand and crumble them in my hands, my hands balling into tight fists. “You told me you were on the pill.”
Her chin quivers, but she raises it higher in an act of courage. She’s always been a stronger, better person than me. “I am…was…”
“Then how—”
“I don’t know!” she screams back at me before bursting into tears. “I don’t know how it happened. I missed pills, Drew. You were aware of that. You didn’t let me go home some nights. I have irregular periods…all of it. All of it happened and now I’m pregnant.” She drops to her knees and buries her hands in her face, loud sobs filling the room. Her bare shoulders shake and her arms tremble with her cries.
“I didn’t do this on purpose,” she chokes out between gasping sobs. She sits on the floor in front of me, a crumbling mess, and as much as I want to comfort her right now, I can’t. Because I’m a selfish prick and the only person I can think of is myself.
“I don’t want a baby,” I say. My voice is flat, devoid of emotion. “I can’t do this.”
Something happens almost instantly, and she stills. Her sobs come to a sudden stop and her entire body becomes motionless.
“I can’t do this,” I say again, barely above a whisper. My voice is hoarse. I wanted everything with Gracie, a house, a life, but we never discussed kids. The last thing I ever wanted was to be an absent father like my dad was, therefore, I decided years ago, kids weren’t in my future.
She raises her head to look at me, her eyes holding mine, searching for answers, searching for support, searching for the love I promised her. Only I’m the fucking liar now. I promised to never hurt her and here I am, destroying her. My chest heaves with heavy breaths when her eyes finally fall to my clenched fists.
Tears fall from her eyes and roll down her face. Giant, wet tears soak her cheeks. Her lips tremble and her chin quivers as the weight of my words settle in. Without a word, she simply nods at me in understanding before standing up and walking away.
I hear the bathroom door close behind her before I hear her quiet sobs echo against the tile room, and that’s when I know I broke her. The one thing I promised I would never do I did, and my heart breaks into a million pieces. I destroyed the one thing I love the most in this world.
It’s been an hour since Gracie locked herself in the bathroom. I listened to her cry through the bathroom door, but not once did I try to get to her, not once did I apologize or try to be a rational human being. Not once did I call out to her, comfort her, or tell her we’d figure this out. I’m a fucking asshole. I finally left for the office, leaving her behind. I walked out on her, leaving her with the burden of this news.
I don’t greet Sue when I arrive at the office. I simply slam my office door behind me and send her an instant message telling her to clear my calendar. There’s no way I can function or think critically today. I rub my temples, trying to push away the growing headache that seems to be worsening by the minute.
At nine o’clock, there’s a light knock on my door and I bark out at Sue, “Not right now.”
Only Sue doesn’t give a shit. She opens the door and steps inside. “Mr. McPherson, I think you’re going to want this.” She hands me a piece of paper that I snatch out of her hand. With it, she hands me Gracie’s employee badge.
“Letter of resignation” is typed in the memo line, under Gracie’s name and Red Hook address. Fury rages through me and I crumble the paper, much like I did the medical release papers this morning, and toss it in the garbage can. Sue simply glares at me, pursing her lips.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but Grace Morgan is the best thing to happen to this company—” she starts before I cut her off.
“Not now, Sue!” I bark at her like the asshole that I am. I don’t even know who I am anymore.
“Fix it,” she says, slamming my office door on her way out.
Not two minutes later, my office door flies open again and Jamie comes barreling through.