“What if I love this baby and do the same things? I don’t feel ready. I can’t be ready.”
Her face softened and she leaned forward and patted me on the back of my hand. “No one is ever ready to be a parent. Those panicky, scared shitless, out-of-your-mind feelings? Every parent has them. Feeling them doesn’t make you a bad parent, and it doesn’t mean you can’t handle it.”
“I don’t want to mess this up.”
“You know how you really mess this up?”
I squeezed my eyes shut feeling like my head was being held underwater and fought for breath, dropping my head. “Running away from the person I love instead of talking to them.”
“Look at that. You don’t even need me anymore.” She patted my shoulder.
“What if I screw this up again?” I looked to her, trying to keep myself from falling apart.
“You think people who have their shit together don’t ever worry about screwing their lives up? Do you think getting your anger issues under control means you’ll never get angry again? Or you’ll never make a mistake again? As a person, as a boyfriend or a husband, as a dad—let me put your mind at ease right now, you’re going to fuck up. You’ll probably fuck up big time, but a misstep when you’re trying your best isn’t a bad thing. No one has all the answers. I don’t have all the answers.”
I dropped my head.
“Keyton, look at me.”
I dragged my eyes up to meet her gaze.
She stared back at me with a calm understanding. “You are not your father, Keyton. And how scared you are right now, how much you’re worried about hurting the people you care about—that should tell you something.”
Somewhere deep down I’d hoped my dad regretted what he’d done, that he was remorseful about it, but that dredged up the possibility that I could be that person, hurting the people around me and regretting it. But under it all, I knew he’d never cared. He wasn’t the least bit repentant for what he’d done. He’d never cared about anyone other than himself. He’d never been capable of the type of fear I had about hurting the people I loved because he’d never loved anyone, least of all himself.
“You’ll never be like him. If you love her, you need to tell her that and you need to be ready for the ups and downs. You can make it through them. You’ve done so much to heal yourself and work through everything you’ve been through. Don’t deny yourself finding love with someone who loves you back just because you’re scared.”
“What if I fuck this up?” My fingers curled, fingertips digging into my palms.
She patted the back of my clenched fist and stared into my eyes. “The fact that you’re here with me right now and not with her tells me you’ve already fucked up big time.”
My stomach knotted, the pit deepening with every passing second.
The lines of censure eased and she patted me on the arm. “But it doesn’t mean you can’t come back from this. Think of it as your first trial run. Now get your ass back on another plane and stop being afraid of letting yourself be happy.”
“What if she doesn’t forgive me for this?” I stood and walked to her office door, opening it and turning back.
“Then you find a way to earn her forgiveness just like she earned yours and you earned hers before.”
I left her office and bolted back downstairs for a taxi. Choking terror that I’d ruined everything Bay and I had built over the past couple months grabbed me, squeezing the breath from my lungs.
The moment I turned on my phone, a barrage of messages rolled in. Gwen. Ernie. Berk. Reece. LJ. Marisa. All bombarding me with question marks and all-caps messages referencing the same thing. Wisconsin.
I was plummeting off the edge of a cliff unable to catch my breath.
“No. No. No.” I shook the phone and stared at it like I could somehow turn back the hands of time.
I needed to get back to Bay. I needed to explain. I needed her.
34
Bay
He left. The highs I’d been flying when he’d told me he loved me didn’t compare to the tumble I’d taken, the plummet through the center of the earth. He left. I’d told him I was pregnant and he’d picked up the phone to call another woman and left.
I must have screamed. But I can’t remember.
Holden and Emily burst into the room after he’d left. I don’t know how long it was between when the door slammed shut behind him and when it sank in that he’d actually done it. Holden was in his button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and no tie. Emily’s nose had a tinge of redness to it from blowing it so much.
They both stared at me with a mix of shock and worry.
Exchanging glances, they lifted me up off the floor, helping me onto the bed. Curled up, I buried my face in the pillow. Housekeeping had been in while we were out and changed all the bedding to fresh linens that smelled nothing like him. I cried even harder. So hard I felt like I was drowning.
It was like he’d shattered me all over again, only this time there wasn’t a guitar left to piece back together. “I’m late.”
Silence consumed the room before I dissolved again.
A hand rubbed my back, and from the brush of the watch band at the end of each stroke, I knew it was Holden.
Finally, my hiccupping sobs slowed and my head pounded, anvils being dropped on my brain. I drifted off into a fitful, dreamless sleep, more like sliding into oblivion than a restful break from the world. My free-fall was plunging into darkness and loneliness.
I woke the next morning with my head throbbing like it had been shoved into a vise. Beside the bed there was a glass of water with condensation running down the sides and a couple ibuprofen.
The door to my room opened. Someone stopped in the bathroom and ran the water.
A flicker of hope pieced through the fog in my head. Had it all been a nightmare? Was that Keyton with breakfast?
But it wasn’t him. Holden walked in.
I downed the pills.
He sat on the edge of the bed and held out a damp wash cloth.
It had all happened just the way I remembered it. This was my reality now.
“I look that bad, huh?” My voice sounded husky and scratchy like I hadn’t used it in weeks, and I’d been crying so hard my stomach felt like I’d done a thousand crunches.
“Like absolute garbage.” The corner of his mouth ticked in an attempt at a smile.
I laughed like gravel in a garbage disposal. After what had happened, I could still laugh. All wasn’t lost, but the hollowness inside made me feel like I’d been scooped out, leaving me a shell. “What’s on the itinerary for today?”
“Nothing, Bay. I…we don’t have anything until the flight tonight.”
“Right. I forgot.” The pain in my stomach. The stabbing, angry feeling. “London. We’re leaving tonight.”
“Emily’s also gone to get a pregnancy test.” Holden lifted my hand and cupped his around it.
I flinched, curling in on myself. Was it too early? How long after a missed period would the results take?
“Whatever happens, we’ve got your back. Don’t worry about anything. Just get some rest.”