This Hick?

Chapter 47

CHAPTER 47

KAREN

T his was it. The moment of truth. I’d spent so many nights and hours thinking about this moment. I’d replayed it over and over in my head. I’d rehearsed speeches.

But none of that rehearsing was quite like the actual moment. All of my preparation didn’t factor in his presence. He was so understanding and kind.

Would he still be that way once I told him?

I sat on the edge of my bed, my hands in my lap. Cassidy sat quietly and gave me the time I needed to work up the courage. There was no going back. No matter what happened, today the secret came out.

My spinning brain couldn’t come up with any clever ways to break the news to him, so I went with the direct approach.

“I’m pregnant.” My voice was barely louder than a whisper. The words hung in the air between us. I let out a slow, unsteady breath and turned to gauge his reaction.

At first, he didn’t move. He just stared like he wasn’t seeing anything. I watched as the weight of my confession started to sink in. Since he wasn’t speaking, I figured I would just get out the rest. “I’ve known for almost three weeks,” I said. “And it’s been killing me not telling you. I just panicked.”

He nodded slowly, processing, his expression unreadable. He still said nothing. This was the reaction I was afraid of. I half-expected him to jump up and run out the door.

“Ginny knows, too.” I blurted. “I didn’t actually tell her. She just guessed. She sort of figured it out. She’s too clever for her own good.” I tried to laugh, but the sound fell flat. I was making excuses. I needed him to say something.

Cassidy got to his feet, like he couldn’t stand to be near me. “So, Ginny knew before I did?” he asked, his voice low, calm, but tinged with something I couldn’t quite place. “How long has she known?”

“She figured it out shortly after I did,” I said, my words stumbling over each other. “But it’s not like I planned to tell her. She just put two and two together and called me out on it. I was sick and she just knew. Women know this kind of thing.” I paused, gathering my thoughts, desperate to explain but not quite able to find the words. “I wanted to tell you first. But I thought I would have more time to prepare for this conversation. I wanted to write everything down, get my head on straight, come at this feeling in control.”

He let out a long breath, shaking his head slightly. “Karen, this isn’t something you can control.”

“I know,” I murmured, fighting the urge to fidget. “Believe me, I know. And Ginny gave me an ultimatum.” I didn’t know why I said that. I couldn’t decide if that was helping or hurting my cause. “She said I had to tell you, or she would. So… here I am. Telling you.”

“Telling me because she forced you into it.”

“I was going to tell you. I know I should have done it sooner, but these are uncharted waters for me. I’ve been trying my best, although I admit my best hasn’t been perfect.”

He rubbed his jaw and looked up at the ceiling. I could see him trying to process it all. My heart went out to him. I wanted to hug him and promise it was okay, but there was nothing I could say to the man to make this better.

“Does Don know?”

I cringed. There was no denying it. I had to be honest.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “That’s what we were talking about in his office that day you found us. When you saw him crying.”

Cassidy’s face darkened slightly, a flicker of pain passing through his eyes. He glanced away. The silence between us stretched out. Every passing second felt like hours.

“Your friends?” he asked.

“What?”

“Do your friends know?”

I wanted to cover my face. His questions were making me feel even worse. I had no excuses. I could only imagine how he felt discovering he was the last to know.

“Yes,” I said with a heavy sigh. “I called them. I kind of took the test with them on the phone.”

He nodded, still not looking at me. “Kenny?”

“What?”

“Does Kenny know?”

“No! I didn’t tell him. I don’t know if Ginny did.”

His hands rubbed down his face.

“I didn’t tell anyone else. My friends were on the phone when I found out. I had to tell my Uncle Don. He’s really my only family. And my friends told me I shouldn’t clean out the chicken coop because it wasn’t safe for the baby.”

He didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what else to say to make it easier for him. It was what it was.

“Karen, do you want this baby?”

The question threw me off balance so completely that I could only gape at him. It hadn’t crossed my mind that he would ask me this. Knowing what I knew about Cassidy’s reservations about family and kids, I could only think of one reason why he’d bring it up—he didn’t want me to keep it.

The realization hit me like a bucket ice water. My defenses went up. I felt protective of my baby as well.

“Of course I want the baby,” I snapped, heat flooding my face. “I think the real question here is, do you want this baby?”

Cassidy didn’t answer right away. He just looked at me with those deep, stormy eyes of his. After what felt like an eternity, he shook his head, his shoulders slumping slightly.

My heart shriveled, splintering into a million pieces. I struggled to breathe around the weight pressing down on my chest. This was the worst-case scenario. I kept telling myself he would have a miraculous change of heart about wanting kids.

I was wrong.

“I’m not that guy, Karen,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. He looked down, unable to meet my eyes. My fingers dug into the blanket on the bed. I felt like I was being swept away.

“We never should have…” He trailed off, shaking his head again. “I’m sorry. I used a condom.”

“I know you did,” I said, my voice cracking. I blinked back the tears, trying to hold them at bay. But they were relentless, spilling over and trailing down my cheeks. “It was an accident, Cassidy.”

He looked so defeated, so lost. My heart ached for him even as it bled for myself. The sound of his sigh echoed in the room.

“I’m not ready to be a father,” Cassidy admitted finally, looking just as gutted as I felt. “I’m not father material.”

“That’s it?” The words came out a broken whisper.

He rubbed a hand over his face, looking utterly defeated. Like he had just had his whole world destroyed. “I’ll pay you child support,” he said. He was talking like he was solving a problem with one of the horses. Not his baby Rouge, but just one of the others. His tone was mechanical. He was completely detached from the situation. It was hard to hear him talk about the life we created with zero emotion in his voice.

He cleared his throat. “It will be a generous amount for child support. Enough that you and the kid would have everything you could ever want.”

That seemed a little ridiculous. I knew what he did for a living. Not that child support was the biggest issue. I could get by on my own.

“I don’t want your money,” I said.

“It’s not for you. It’s for the baby.”

That stung. “You can send what you can. I know things are tight for you.”

“I’m going to have access to a lot of money by the end of the year,” he said. “Trust me, you and the baby will be well taken care of.”

Anger and disbelief twisted together, rising up like a tidal wave, choking the breath out of me. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Here I was, vulnerable and open, offering him a piece of my heart, and he was talking about money? Like he could just throw money at the situation and it would go away. It would absolve him of all responsibility.

“I don’t want your damn money, Cassidy,” I said, my voice trembling with barely contained rage. “This isn’t about how much you can pay me or how ‘comfortable’ you think you can make us. This is about you being too scared to face something real, something that actually matters. Fine. I’ll be brave. I’ll be the one to face this head on. Because that’s what this baby deserves. You can take your money and shove it up your ass. If you want your baby to have your money, put it in a trust fund for him or her.”

He stayed quiet, looking at me with that same blank, defeated expression. The lack of emotion in his eyes hurt more than any words could. I knew then he’d already made up his mind. This was exactly what Ginny had told me would happen.

“Get out,” I managed to say, my voice barely holding steady. I refused to cry and look weak. Not in front of him.

Cassidy’s mouth opened like he might say something, but no words came. He simply nodded and turned toward the door. He stepped out of the room without another glance. And just like that, he was gone, leaving me staring at the closed door, too numb and shocked to even muster a tear.

I waited, desperately hoping for him to turn around, to come back in and say he was a fool, that he hadn’t meant it. I prayed that he would see he made a mistake. I wanted him to come back and say he would fight for us. That we could have a family. No, we didn’t plan it, but we could make it work and be better people for it.

But the door stayed closed.

I flopped back onto the bed. I felt so many emotions at once. They competed with each other to be front and center. Anger, hurt, and sadness were all warring within. It felt like a suffocating cloud that weighed me down.

I thought of all the ways I’d imagined this moment playing out, all the dreams I’d let myself believe in, however cautiously, over the past few weeks. I was fully prepared for him to be scared, but I had never thought he would be this dismissive. He had just turned off his emotions.

Despite everything I’d just told him, despite my resolve to move forward without him, part of me still clung to the idea that this wasn’t the end, that he’d come back.

I waited. And waited. The minutes ticked by but there was nothing.

I closed my eyes as a wave of exhaustion washed over me. I felt like I was barely holding myself together. If I let one tear slip, it would all unravel.

“Fuck him.”

I didn’t need him. I didn’t need his money, his pity, his half-hearted apology. I had my friends.

But as I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, realization sank in. I wanted him beside me, through every step of this journey. I wanted him to be there for all the milestones for his child. It was my fault for letting myself dream about a future. I wouldn’t be feeling this bad if I didn’t allow myself to believe there was a chance.

Ginny warned me.

Dammit.