“I know.” She paused to lick her lips, took another sip of her ginger ale. So help me God. If she used that damn soda as a way to procrastinate for another single second, it’d end up smashed all over the carpet. Screw the cleaning bill. “But that’s why I’m here. To apologize and explain.”
Her hesitation made my pulse kick up. In all the years I’d known Lizzie, I’d never seen her so damn uncertain. “What do you want then? From me? With this visit? Just give it to me straight, Lizzie, because you’re killing me here.”
She opened her mouth and as she did, my phone lit up, vibrated on the table and she glanced at it. Her cheeks turned white before I looked down. Fuck. Nadia’s name flashed on the screen as it continued to ring.
I declined the call and blacked my screen. No doubt she wanted to confirm an event we were supposed to attend together next week, and she wanted to remind me to wear my tux. It was pretty much the only conversations we had.
But that wasn’t what Lizzie thought, and it was clear in the pain lancing across her face, followed by sadness as she rolled her lips together.
“Don’t,” I all but growled from across the table. “You don’t get to be pissed about this. You left me.”
“I know.” She squeezed her eyes closed and when she opened them, tears swam in her eyes. It fucking killed me to stay cemented in my seat. “I know all that, which was why I didn’t call you earlier. I want you to be happy, and if it’s with her... I’m glad for you.”
She didn’t mean a single damn word of it. Not based on the way she blinked back more tears and gripped her ginger ale so hard her knuckles turned white.
Fuck this. Screw Lizzie, whose damn presence could make me want to throw away everything I’d ever worked for and goddamn, I was so pissed she could still baffle me. I needed her to fight for me. For us, and if she couldn’t… I needed to figure out a way to move on from her.
It wouldn’t be with Nadia, but I needed the woman I loved to show me something that would keep me there.
“Nothing’s changed, has it?” My chest burned and my blood sizzled in my veins. Lizzie sat across from me looking like I threw a puppy into oncoming traffic and she still said nothing. “Nothing’s changed,” I repeated, disgusted I’d hoped, considered this would go different. Thank God I didn’t throw myself on my sword and beg her to give us a chance.
How big of a fool would I be?
I stood, grabbing cash from my money clip in my pocket. “I can’t do this. Not with you. Not anymore.”
I yanked them out. They waved in the air right as Lizzie’s chin lifted and her teary, gorgeous, and sad eyes met mine.
“I’m pregnant.”
My knees locked. Vaguely, I saw the cash in my hand wafting in the air because I’d frozen as her words rushed through with the force of a thunderstorm.
Her eyes grew as that storm built in my gut, spread through my limbs and rolled to my ears. The entire room tilted and I slapped the cash in my hand down on the table so hard it rattled, my palm flattening. “What?”
She nodded and sounds of the room flooded my system until it was overloaded with the cacophony of chatter and glasses clinking and laughter and forks scraping on plates. I scanned the room, looked to see if anyone else had noticed the fucking rug that had just been pulled out from beneath my feet.
“What’d you say?” I asked and fell to the edge of the bench. There was no way she’d said that.
There was no way she’d keep this from me. Not for this long.
“We didn’t use a condom that night. I got sick right after, went on antibiotics… birth control must not have worked…”
Holy hot damn shit. She was fucking serious.
“You’re having my baby?”
3
Lizzie
Our table jolted from the force of his collapse into the booth across from me.
I hadn’t expected a parade or shouts and whoops of joy. In truth, I’d played this scenario in my head on an endless loop for the last six weeks since I took my first test.
In any of those scenarios, I’d never considered Garrett would stare at me like I’d grown three heads. Or worse, stare at me like he’d never seen me before in his life. Which was exactly how he was gaping at me.
“Yeah,” I finally said and damn, it’d grown hot in here. Sweat lined my brow and I brushed my hand over my chest. The intensity of his stare made my nerves spike. I couldn’t tell if he was looking like he wanted to throttle me or throw me over his shoulder and whisk me away to his room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen. And I just… I needed time to wrap my head around everything, and I haven’t been feeling well.”
“Ginger ale,” he rasped, his gaze dropping to my glass. “I should have fucking known.”
He swallowed and grabbed his beer, draining the rest in one large gulp. My skin itched, too damn tight for the bones it covered on my body. Never, in the history of our friendship, whether we were having sex or not, had a conversation been so difficult, had he felt so far away from me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, licking my lips and willing more tears back. Crying wouldn’t solve anything.
“Just give me a minute.” He leaned to the side and lifted his empty glass, probably trying to get the server’s attention, and once he had it, he slipped back into the booth and dropped his forehead into his hand. It trembled as he shoved it through his hair and down the jawline of his beard.
My fingertips burned with nerves and fear. I’d never felt so helpless when it came to us, but helpless had become normal in the last few months. Sure, I could be a single mom. I had the money and a family support system where I could do this on my own. But that wasn’t what I wanted, and it wouldn’t be what Garrett wanted.
He’d lost his dad when he was little. From everything he told me about his dad prior to his death during a military training mission, he’d been an incredible man, and Garrett wanted a family. Wanted the wife and kids he could love the way he’d been loved.
“I don’t know what else to say, except I’m sorry.” I croaked it out and our server appeared. He brought another drink for both of us and I grabbed it, thankful for something to soothe the shards of glass lining my throat.
But I also had to be careful. The ginger ale helped my nausea but too much ruined it.
“When are you due?” he finally asked, collapsing back into his seat. His hands fell to his lap and all the color had left his face. His eyes were wide, glassy, almost as if he’d heard the worst news in his entire life.
“September fourteenth.”
“Off season.” He nodded and reached for his beer. “Good. That’s good.”
“Is it?” Because while I hadn’t expected a parade, I hadn’t expected him to appear deadened or sound so cold.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned. “You’ve had what… weeks to process this? Can’t I have five minutes?”
“Of course.” Of course he could. Now that I’d told him, I wanted us to figure out a plan. I had several of them. I had questions. I needed to know what he wanted, how involved he wanted to be. I’d had time to think through all the scenarios.