“Mac, I know you’re upset and that a lot has been tossed at you in the last hour. I know you need time to process this. I’m here for that. Whatever you need. But as your best friend, not as his sister, but as your best friend, I want you to really think about this. Think about how he treats you.”
“I know he loves me. I can feel it.”
“If you trust in his love, trust him to make the best choice for him. I’m not sure if you saw him in there, but he was giddy with happiness. He wants you to be his wife, McKenna. Did you catch that part of the conversation?”
“I heard him.”
“What do you want?”
I don’t even have to think about my answer. “I want him to want to marry me, not because of a drunken mistake but because he chose to do so. That he made a conscious decision to ask me to be his forever, not that he was tricked into marrying me. We were drunk, Lara. Hell, we didn’t even remember it. None of us did. How is that a good foundation for a marriage?”
“It’s a good foundation when it’s love. It doesn’t matter how or when, but that the relationship is real.”
“And this baby.” I place my hands over my still-flat stomach. “This baby deserves better than two parents who stuck it out because it was the right thing to do.”
“Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know. Don’t you see? How am I supposed to know? How is he supposed to know? He might think this is what he wants. He’s caught up in the moment of finding out we were married while too drunk to remember and walking in on me after just taking a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test. It doesn’t seem like he has much of a choice to me.”
“He has a choice, McKenna. He’s choosing you and the baby you created out of love.”
“We were drunk.”
“Does that mean you don’t love your baby?”
My hands fly to my belly, and I can’t explain the feeling inside me. It’s warmth, and light, and hope. “No. I love this baby.” It’s the truth. It’s a surprise, and it wasn’t how I thought this moment would go, but I could never not want a part of Rip and me.
“He loves both of you.”
“Lara.” My voice cracks. “How did we get here? How did I end up pregnant and married to the man I’ve always loved, and I can’t remember the night that gave me both him and this baby?”
“I can’t explain it, McKenna. I can tell you it sounds a hell of a lot like fate.”
“Fate? Do you believe that?”
“I know you’re close to this.” She taps her chest. “And everything is right here, but I’m telling you he’s not with you out of obligation or duty. I know my brother, McKenna, and he loves you.”
I nod. “Sometimes love isn’t enough. I lived it, Laramie. I know what happens when the unexpected is thrust upon you. I know the loss, and the pain, the shame.” I look down at my lap. “It took me a long time to push his hateful words out of my head, and as I got older, hers as well. I struggle with insecurities. If I’m being honest, their words aren’t gone. I still hear them every single day. It drove them to drugs, Laramie. They couldn’t deal with me. I caused that. I don’t want that for this baby. I want his or her life to be full of love and to always feel safe.”
There’s a knock on my window, and I turn to see Rip standing there, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. He’s still dirty from his morning working the farm. I want to tear open this door and jump into his arms and let him tell me this is all going to work out. I imagine that’s exactly how it started with my parents too. There is no happy ending in this situation. He didn’t get to choose.
“Talk to him.” Laramie reaches over the console and hugs me. I watch as she unlocks the door and climbs out, only for Rip to take her place.
He closes the door, and how, I’m not sure, but he manages to turn his tall form to face me as he sits sideways in the seat. “Kenna.” His voice cracks.
I keep my eyes straight ahead. I can’t look at him. I can’t face the hurt in his eyes when I’m doing this for him. I would never want him to turn out like my father. “What do you want, Rip?”
I jump when I feel his hand on my belly. “You, McKenna. I want you, and I want our baby.”
I try hard not to let him see how his words affect me, but a sob rips from my throat. “I’m sorry,” I mumble through my tears.
“What exactly are you apologizing for, McKenna? Are you apologizing for making me a husband? Or are you apologizing for making me a father? Which is it, baby, so I can work on showing you those aren’t things to be sorry about? Baby, look at me.”
I shake my head. I can’t look at him. “I’m sorry,” I say again. It’s all I can think to say, and I’m not sure I could form more than those two words right now anyway.
His hand gently cups my chin as he turns my head to look at him. “I love you, McKenna. I love our baby. Sure, we didn’t do this the traditional way. We didn’t plan our wedding, but we did get married, and then made a baby. That’s pretty damn traditional. However, I couldn’t care less about any of that. You know why?”
“Why?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I’m ready to hear his answer.
“Because you made me a husband and a father. In one day.” He smiles. “Not just today, but our night in Vegas. I assume that’s when it happened, and that will now forever be the best night of my life.”
“We don’t even remember it.”
“We might not be able to remember that night and our actions, but it will forever be the night you took my last name, and we started our family.”
“Family?” I croak.
“A baseball team.” He smiles.
I close my eyes, willing myself to stay strong. He says all of this now, and I’m sure my father did too. I know how that turned out. “I refuse to make you feel trapped.”
“Trap me, Kenna. Fuck, baby, tie me to the bed, lock me in the house. I don’t give a fuck as long as you and our baby are with me. I love you, McKenna.”
I nod. “I know. I love you too.”
“Then why are you pushing me away?”
“My parents,” I croak, and his face goes white.
“No. No, McKenna. That’s not us, baby. No way. I love you, and I love our baby. I would never do anything to hurt either of you in any way.”
“He probably thought that too. My dad, I mean.”
“Fuck him. I am not him. He was a piece of shit. They both were, in my opinion.” He takes a deep breath. “Look. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk about your parents like that, but fuck, Kenna. You can’t compare me to them. They put you in situations a little girl should never be in. One I can guarantee that my children will never be in.”
My mind races, and thoughts of the fights, the screaming, the fists, the tears— “I need to go.”
“Please don’t go.”
“I need to. I just… I need some time.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“This is your home.”