“I fucked up, man.” I grab the bottle of vodka that is lying on its side next to the sofa and twist the cap off. “Drink?”
He shakes his head. I tip the bottle back and drink it down.
Troy takes it from me. “I think you’re done. Now tell me, what did you fuck up?”
“Gwen’s pregnant. It happened when we were trapped in the van.” I scratch Butch’s head because he’s down in the dumps too.
He sits down on the opposite end of the sofa. “A baby? That’s crazy. That still doesn’t tell me what you fucked up. You love her, a baby is a good thing, right?”
I shake my head. “I told her to leave, that I’m not father material.” I bury my face in my hands. “I’m a fucking mess,” I slur.
“Yeah, brother. Let’s get you in bed.” Troy somehow gets me up and helps me stagger toward my bedroom. I collapse on my bed and grab Gwen’s pillow, bringing it to my nose and inhale her scent.
“I’ll take care of Butch and sleep on the sofa in case you need me,” I hear Troy say before I pass out.
It’s been two days since I learned that Gwen is pregnant with my baby. I’ve had to stop myself multiple times from calling her. My head is all fucked up, but I’ve had to push that all to the back of my mind while I work. I don’t need anything affecting how I do my job.
Being at work has been just what I needed to keep my mind off her. Chief Malone hasn’t said anything to me, so either he doesn’t know what happened or he’s just waiting for the right time to annihilate me.
Today I’m off work early, so I decide to head to McGregor’s for a beer. Plus, I honestly can’t stand being in my own home without Gwen in it. The moment I step inside, I take a seat at the bar. I order my beer and stare blindly at the TV while I drink it.
“Hey, handsome.” I turn to find Tawney sitting down next to me. “Aren’t you going to tell me thank you for the flowers?”
“Go away,” I mutter and then take a drink of my beer.
“Oh, come on. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”
I look at her and roll my eyes. “You were trying to start shit, you know it.”
“How could I start shit…” Tawney’s eyes widen. “You didn’t know.”
“Go to hell.” I get up from my stool and walk toward the exit.
She follows me to the door,” I swear I meant no harm. I was just trying to do something nice, I swear.”
I ignore her and pick up the pace, but she doesn’t stop—I finally snap.
I turn around. “Leave me the fuck alone. Stay away from me, stay away from Gwen, and stay away from my baby. Don’t think I don’t know you were the one responsible for her car. Do me a favor and pretend you don’t know me.” Luckily, she doesn’t follow me outside because that would piss me off. I don’t trust her at all, and as far as I’m concerned, she did it hoping to cause problems—that’s exactly what she did.
Twenty-Six
Gwen
It’s been a week since Maverick told me to leave. I’ve yet to tell my parents what happened. I also haven’t told them I’m pregnant. They’ll figure it out soon enough though because I had morning sickness for the first time yesterday morning.
They have no idea why I’m home and not with him, and honestly, I don’t want to talk about it because when I do, I cry. Shit, most nights I cry myself to sleep. During the day, I’ve done some job hunting.
Aunt Sidney offered me a job at Modern Family Magazine. I’d basically be a glorified receptionist/gopher, but it would give me the flexibility I’d need for my travels, but honestly, I think my days of globetrotting are over. At least for now they are. Maybe the baby and I will take trips together and I’ll show him or her the world.
I rub my hand over my still flat stomach and tears leak from my eyes. I’ve never hated someone the way I hate Tawney for ruining everything. If I could’ve eased him into it, Maverick might’ve handled it differently—or maybe he’s just an asshole.
I sit up on the side of the bed, breathing slowly as a wave of nausea hits me. On quick feet, I bolt for the bathroom, vomiting twice. The bathroom door opens, and I find Mom standing in the doorway.
She squats down next to me. “How far along are you?” Mom asks gently while running a hand over my hair.
“About eight weeks.”
“The accident?”
I nod.
“He doesn’t want to be involved?”
I start to cry, and she pulls me into her arms right there on the bathroom floor. After the tears stop, I push myself up, shaking my head. “H-He said he was in l-love with me.”
Mom stands up and then helps me do the same. “Brush your teeth and I’ll meet you in your bedroom.” She disappears and I do as she says.
When I step into my bedroom, I find Mom sitting on the side of the bed. I take a seat next to her.
She grabs my hand, bringing it to her lips. “My baby’s having a baby.” Mom wraps her arm around my shoulders and hugs me into her side.
“Will you be with me when I tell Dad?” I hang my head. “He’s going to hate me.”
“Oh baby, no, never. Your dad loves you so much. He may be shocked at first, but he’ll love being a grandpa—just as much as I’m going to love being a grandma. Yes, I would’ve liked this to happen for you when you had a more stable job, but this baby is already loved, and will be loved by a lot of people. You will not be alone in this.”
I begin to cry again.
She makes me lie down. “I’ll bring you some crackers and a bottle of water. When I stop at the store later, I’ll grab you some ginger ale. It’ll help your stomach. My morning sickness was worse with your brother, go figure.” Mom winks, making me laugh.
“Thank you.”
Mom stops in the doorway. “For what, baby?”
“For everything. You supported me when I wanted to travel, and you’re supporting me now. I just… thank you, and I love you.”
She blows me a kiss and then disappears, returning a few minutes later and sets the crackers and water on my nightstand. “If you want to tell Daddy tonight, I can make Taylor and Grant disappear.”
I nod. “Okay, it’s probably best to just get it over with.”
“I’ll see you later. I love you, my beautiful girl.”
Once she leaves, I close my eyes and fall into a fitful sleep.
Once Dad’s home, I’m a bundle of nerves. I help Mom with dinner to keep busy so I don’t think about the conversation that’s about to happen. Dad’s going to have questions, and since I’ve been home, Dad’s tried asking me about Maverick, but I dodge his questions.
Taylor and Grant went out with some mutual friends so it’s just the three of us. When dinner is done, the three of us sit at the dining room table. I’m sitting on Dad’s right and Mom on his left. He gives me a small smile.
“He looks like shit.”
I know the he he’s talking about, and I want to say that I don’t care, but I still do—I can’t shut off my love for him. Keeping my eyes on my plate, I mutter, “So.”