It was a life with Keyton where I could have the best of the worlds I’d been shown. I could have my music and the man I loved, who loved me back just as fiercely and irrevocably as I loved him.
Inside the room, on the table was a basket. My basket of goodies for whenever I got my thirty-six-hour rest because of my period.
My phone pinged with a call from Holden.
“Hey, Bay, sorry the basket was late. I thought Emily was handling it, but with her sick, I had to scramble to get it to you. Is everything there that you need?”
Keyton stared down at the basket filled with tampons, pads, Goobers, soft baked peanut butter chocolate chip cookies and a note saying there were new seasons of House Hunters on the FireStick.
I stared at the basket as the ice-water realization spilled over me. “Yeah, I have everything I need. I’ll talk to you later.” My lips were numb.
“Do you need help with packing? We need to get on the plane at 6 tomorrow night.”
“6 tomorrow night. Got it. I’ll be ready.” I ended the call and stared at the box that generally signaled my wanting to die for two days, but at least being able to do it in peace. My stomach knotted, not settling one bit, and not the kind of nausea I usually got when I had my period.
Keyton looked to me and back at the basket. “Are you on your period?”
I tilted my head. “You were literally inside me a couple hours ago.”
His nostrils flared and the tampon box shook in his hand. “But you’re supposed to be on your period.”
“Yes.” I took it out of his hand and shoved it back into the basket.
“And you’re late.”
I dragged my fingers through my hair and turned away, sitting on the couch. “Yes.” Forty weeks from today would be August. The tour ended in July. What the hell was I thinking? I couldn’t complete a full tour while pregnant. Delivering on stage in an arena filled with tens of thousands of people wasn’t my idea of fun.
I shot up and paced, tugging on the ends of my hair.
“How late?” Keyton’s voice broke through the avalanche of thoughts colliding in my head.
“A day. I’m a day late.” The anticipation of Keyton getting back into town had wiped away all thoughts of my period, especially when the basket of goodies hadn’t arrived. Distractions had been at an all-time high.
“How often are you a day late?”
I stopped pacing and stared down at the basket. “Never.” Not through tours and time zones. I was regular enough to build a tour schedule around my break. I’d always looked forward to it to give me some time on my own, a chance to binge reality TV, eat crap, and be alone for a solid twelve waking hours.
“Oh.” One word. Nothing else coming after it.
Unexpected. I waited for the panic about what to do next, but there wasn’t any. There was a calm. This would be the perfect opportunity to take a step back, the chance I hadn’t known I’d been looking for to jump off the hamster wheel and make something real for myself.
Then a pang of guilt shot through me that I wasn’t thinking about this potential baby for them, but how it would allow me to weasel out of the life I’d built for myself and always dreamed of.
All the feelings I had were reexamined through a new lens. Were my nipples extra sensitive because Keyton’s ministrations were even better or because I was pregnant? Was my stomach churning with way too much food or the morning sickness I’d heard never knew how to tell time? Was he looking at me in shock because this was shocking news, or had this changed everything about him wanting to be with me?
33
Keyton
I sat up after Bay went to sleep. We’d both been slightly catatonic once the realization hit us. Neither of us seemed to have had the words. We’d taken separate showers, each lost in our own world of stunned silence and tumultuous thoughts.
We lay in bed, her head resting on my chest until she fell asleep. Her steady breaths whispered across my skin. I stared at the cream ceiling, trying to keep my grasp on the threads slowly unravelling, fraying, and snapping under the pressure.
I’d been careful for so long, not only because there were so many ways to get caught up in bad situations once a kid was involved, but also because I wasn’t capable of being a good father. I was barely at the point of being a good human being.
The scars ran deep. I knew that now. I’d tried to pretend I was fine for so long. It had taken years to get me to this point, to be the man I thought I could be, the man she needed, even the husband I hoped to be.
I’d contacted a jeweler about a ring. Working in ideas about her thoughts on rings over the next few months would have been tricky, but I’d wanted her to be blown away. I should’ve started ring shopping after our first night together, but we were supposed to have more time. I was supposed to have more time.
My chest got tight, breathing was a chore I hadn’t felt since training camp. Panic swelled, overwhelming me. Sweat broke out on my forehead and my skin was clammy. Sliding out of the bed, I grabbed my phone.
Walking out of the bedroom, I braced my hand on the wall, shuffling the rest of the way. I closed the bathroom door without flicking on the light. The glow of my phone provided enough. The smooth case slid in my hand as I pulled up my contacts and pulled up the name.
Raking my fingers through my hair, I was wound tighter with each ring. I felt a sliver of relief as she answered on the eighth ring, groggy and grumpy.
“Monica? Hello, Monica? I need to see you.”
“What the hell?” She yawned. “Do you know what time it is?”
“I need to see you.”
“What happened? What’s wrong?” Her voice was a bit more alert even though it was the middle of the night.
The throbbing in my head pounded even harder. “Can I come to you?”
“Of course. Keyton, what is wrong?”
“I’ll be there in a few hours.” I ended the call and opened the bathroom door.
I shouted, keeping myself from swinging on the figure. I clamped my hand to my chest. Just another reminder I was already in over my head. What if I’d hit her? What if I hit our kid? Being woken up in the middle of the night by a little kid and forgetting where I was wasn’t out of the question. Bile rose in my throat, choking me.
Bay’s shadowed form stood in the hallway, her hair bedhead-big and her arms wrapped around her waist.
“You’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question.
I tried to slip past her, but she stood in front of me.
“There are some things I have to deal with.”
She held her hand up toward my chest, but didn’t touch me. “If I hadn’t woken up, would you have told me you were leaving?”
My jaw clenched. “Maybe I wanted to be the one to walk away for once.” Fuck. It was a low blow. But I needed to get out. The walls were closing in and I couldn’t deal.
She gasped, her eyes wide even in the dim lighting from the seating area. “I might be pregnant and you’re running for the door.”
I scrubbed my hands down over my face. The tension was wound tight in me like a coil torqued past its factory recommended settings. “I need to handle some things first.”
“Who were you talking to?”