“I’m sorry, Lottie.” His voice comes through weak, small. And despite saying nothing at all, he tells me the one thing I need to know.
“No,” I respond instantly. “No, Beck. You don’t get to do this. This child needs a father. You need to pull your shit together and be there for them. I don’t care how I feel about you—I will do anything to make sure this baby has everything it needs.”
“You don’t need two parents in life, Lottie. Especially not a dad like me. I’ve had weeks to think about it and my mind is made up. There is still so much I want to do. I can’t have a kid—I’m only twenty-eight.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re only twenty-eight? I’m twenty-five, you dickhead. Do you think a child was part of my plan? Fuck no, but it’s here and it’s happening, so you need to pull your shit together.”
“I’m sorry, Lottie. I’ve made up my mind, and I’m not going to change it. Trust me when I say you’ll be better off without me.”
My breath is choppy as I process what he’s telling me. In all the scenarios I imagined, never once did I think he wouldn’t show up for his own child. This information only solidifies the fact I never really knew him at all.
“Have you told her yet?” a female voice whispers in the background of Beck’s call. I can tell from the rustling that he pulls the phone away, but the idiot isn’t smart enough to mute it.
“I’m doing it now, Francesca. Just give me a minute,” he whispers back, the dickhead forgetting to cover his microphone.
Francesca.
At the mention of her name, my spine straightens and my skin goes cold. I mean, who wouldn’t feel this way when they find out their ex is with the girl he cheated on them with?
“You stupid fucking prick,” I say on impulse, each word low and cold.
A warm hand covers my own, my attention snapping to Owen. He gives me a reassuring smile and I try not to cry at the warmth from it.
“Fuck, shit, Lottie,” he pleads, “I didn’t mean for you to hear her. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” He almost whines, like a small child who isn’t getting a dozen new toys for Christmas. Images of Dudley from Harry Potter crowds my mind.
“I’m sorry my pregnancy is an inconvenience to you, Beck, but it’s also my reality. Yet upon reflection, you’re right. We don’t need you, because there are millions of single mums in the world. In fact, one of the best people I know was raised by one.” I pause, looking over at Owen. “So, you’re right. We don’t need you. I fear you’d only complicate it. Don’t call me again—you had your chance.” As I hang up, I realize whom I’ve been talking to all along: a coward.
With an extra pep in my movements, I slam my finger against the End button, then return my attention to the man next to me.
“I think that went well,” I manage to get out before bursting into tears. As usual, Owen is there to catch me as I fall. He pulls me into him and rubs my back in silence, offering me the comfort that Beck should have given.
“Guy’s a dickhead, Lo. As you said, I’m proof a single mum can raise good humans.”
I look up at him through watery vision as he gives me his million-dollar smile. I can’t help but laugh, wiping away the mess on my face.
“A total dickhead,” I confirm, desperately wishing I could have a glass of wine right now.
Sitting up, I pull out of Owen’s embrace, not wanting to accidentally cross any lines between the two of us. Things are already so complicated, and I don’t have it in me to deal with more.
“Fuck, puppy. What the hell am I going to do? I’m single and twenty-five with a baby on the way. I’m going to lose my job and won’t be able to support the baby or myself. I’m going to be a huge joke, and everyone will know.” I hiccup, using the end of my jumper to wipe my face.
“Hey.” His voice cuts through my small sobs, his hand finding my face and turning it toward him. “You’re no joke. You’re intelligent, kind, funny, and beautiful. I have no doubts that all of that will contribute to you being an amazing mother. I’m not saying we can work this out in a night—it will take time—but I promise we will.”
I turn my entire body to face him, his hand leaving my face in the process.
“Why are you even here, Owen? I mean, this baby doesn’t belong to you and you barely know me. Why are you being so kind and helpful? I’m not some damsel who needs saving. I can do this. I’m perfectly capable.”
He looks at me with eyes I’d usually regard as pitying, but having come to know Owen, I know it’s just sympathy and understanding. I’m not sure what I feel is worse.
“I think you’re the last person on this earth who needs saving, Lottie. But sometimes, even the strongest people need a little help. I don’t want to save you. I want to help you.”
He’s silent for a few moments, his deep blue eyes connecting with my own, as if some cosmic force is pulling us together. I would try to look away, but the truth is, I don’t want to.
“When my mum got pregnant with my baby brother, she was all alone. I was the only person who could help her, and even I couldn’t do everything she needed. It crushed me as a kid to hear her crying alone at night when she thought I was sleeping, or her panic to make sure she gave me as much attention as the new baby. It was hard on her, Lottie, really hard, and I never really forgot it.”
He runs his hand across his mouth before he continues. “I’m not going to lie to you, Lottie. When I first saw you, you captured my attention instantly. You had this wit about you, and our banter just felt so easy. I was interested, but as soon as you shut that shit down, I saw the possibility of a friendship between us. Before Stana came along, Em was the only female friend I’d had. People see me and instantly assume that I’m either an idiot or a player. I’m not saying the latter hasn’t been true, but there is more to me, and I felt like you saw it.
“So yeah, I was drawn to you. And maybe this whole thing is weird and unconventional because we haven’t known one another for that long, but I don’t care. I don’t care because you’ve become an important person in my life, and I want to be there for you. So please, without an ulterior motive at play, let me.”
Stunned into silence for only the second time in my life, I eye Owen, attempting to process all he’s just said.
“Okay,” I reply honestly. “You can be here.”
His lips, which were previously in a line, tilt upward at my response, his tall frame rising up from the couch.
“Great, because we still have the rest of the Star Wars franchise to watch and I wasn’t going to leave anyway.”
I toss a pillow at him, just missing as he dips into the kitchen.
“At least get me some popcorn while you’re up.”
“As you wish!” he calls back.
“Thanks, puppy.”
I chuckle to myself as he groans in the kitchen, my earlier feelings of despair momentarily gone.
“Darling, are you sure you’re okay?” Joan, the head pharmacist at the chemist, looks me over. Her bright red cat-eye glasses sit at the tip of her nose, her big brown eyes magnified.