Chapter Twenty-Two
Morgan
I stared at the phone in my hand. The longer I put this off, the harder it would be. A week had passed since I found out I was pregnant. A week living in denial as I waited for the cramps, the pain, the dizziness followed by complete darkness.
I wasn’t far enough along for an ultrasound, so all I could do was wait.
I dialed the number I knew by heart and waited for the one person who never let me down to answer.
“Sweetheart, good morning,” my mother greeted.
“Hi, Mom. How’s the spa?”
My mother chuckled. “Everything is running smoothly as it should. There is no reason for you to worry.”
If only that were true. Worry had become the one thing I was good at now. The one stable aspect of my life. The one thing I could count on not to leave me.
God, I sound so fucking whiny.
“Mom...”
“Oh, before I forget, I wanted to tell you about the newest adventure in the Cameron Chronicles.”
She started off strong, something about an explosion and Beth’s coffee shop, and flour, or sugar... I wasn’t listening as I repeatedly tried to interrupt her rambling.
“Mom!” I shouted into the phone, causing people walking by to look my way. Rian, my ever-watchful defender, moved closer.
“What?” she asked.
“I need to tell you something.”
I bit my lip and closed my eyes, trying to work up the courage to say the words out loud.
“Are you okay?” she asked, and I wanted to kick myself for the worry in her tone. Despite my freaking out, I never wanted her to worry about me. Never wanted to hear the fear in her voice. Though I guess as a mother, it came with the territory.
“I’m...” How did I say this? Was I okay? No. Would I be okay? Maybe? “Mom, I’m pregnant.”
“Fuck,” Rian whispered beside me, and I glared at him.
When he reached for his phone, I quickly said, “Mom, hang on one second.”
Holding the phone by my leg, I stood and grabbed Rian’s arm. “Not a word.”
“Morgan, I have to—”
“Your job is to watch over me. Protect me. Not spy on me and tell my father.”
Suddenly, Rian’s phone rang, and his brow furrowed. “Hello?” he asked. I heard a woman’s voice on the other end of the line but couldn’t decipher her words.
“But I—” he started but then closed his mouth. “Okay, but last time—” His lips clamped together, and he sighed. “Yes, Ma’am. I understand. Sorry, yes, Miss Malpas.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Freyja, I got it.”
I love you, Freyja Malpas!
“Morgan!” my mother yelled as I put the phone back to my ear.
“Sorry, Mom.” I sat back down and leaned against the side of the building. It was warm and humid outside, but I needed the open space for this conversation.
“What do you mean, you’re pregnant? You’ve only been there a few weeks.”
“I’ve been here over a month, Mom. And I’m almost eight weeks. Devlyn made me an appointment with her doctor. It’s this afternoon.”
My mother was quiet. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.
“You should have called me days ago; I would have come down.”
“I know. But there’s nothing you can do. Nothing I can do until I know what’s happening.”
“I could be there with you this time,” my mother whispered.
A tear slipped down my cheek and suddenly I felt more alone than ever. She was right. I should have called her to come down and be here with me.
“Devlyn’s going to go with me. I won’t be alone. And there’s always someone around. Either Gator’s men, or Rian.”
“Morgan.”
“I know, Mom. I’m scared too.”
I wasn’t just scared; I was terrified. Terrified of losing another child. Terrified of dying. But more, I was afraid to hope. I was afraid to dream.
I placed my hand over my flat belly. The belly I wanted to grow huge. The stomach I wanted to rebel anytime I put food in my mouth or smelled something I loved.
I wanted to whine about being sick, about getting fat. I wanted to complain about my feet hurting and swelling up to three times their normal size. I wanted every symptom I’d ever heard a pregnant woman complain about.
“Have you told him?” she asked.
“No. And I’m not going to.”
“You can’t keep this from him, Morgan.”
“He doesn’t want me, Mom. If he knows about the baby, he’ll insist we be together just like last time. I won’t do that again. I won’t put myself through that only for him to leave again.”
I heard my mother’s long exhale. I could picture the look of disappointment on her face, but I was an adult. This was my decision. Was it the wrong one? Maybe. But it was still mine to make.
“I’m coming down there.”
“Mom, no.”
“Just try and stop me,” she said before she hung up on me. My mother hung up on me.
“You’re pregnant, huh?” Rian asked.
I nodded, then looked up at him and smiled. “What did Freyja say?”
Rian rolled his eyes.
“I won’t repeat what she said in front of a woman. My mother would beat my ass. But basically, she told me if I called your father, she’d put a curse on me.”
“And you believed her?”
Rian stared at me a moment, and then looked at the bar, then around the quarter, shaking his head. “Do you know anything about where you are? Of course I believe that shit.”
That was twice now he’d cussed in front of me, so I wondered what exactly Freyja had said to the man to make him afraid to repeat her words. Knowing Freyja, it was probably... colorful.
“You’re not going to tell the father?”
I narrowed my eyes at the man my father had assigned to follow me around. The man who, until now, I hadn’t had an issue with. My father was overprotective; I’d known that my whole life and given what they believed was a threat, I didn’t complain. But now...
“You don’t get a say.”
Rian lifted his hands in surrender. “It was just a question.”
“It wasn’t just a question. It’s never just a question. It’s a request for justification, and I don’t need to justify my choices to you or anyone else.”
I stood up and stormed inside before he could ask any more questions or offer any unsolicited opinions on my life.
Inside the bar, which was closed to the public during the day, I found Gator sitting in a chair, with all three babies in their infant seats on the table in front of him.
“Morning, Chérie.”
“Morning, Gator.” He didn’t look up at me, his focus on his girls as he told them a story. Three sets of eyes stared at the man as his animated voice spoke words about princesses, and dragons, and... alligators?
“Gator, can I ask you a question?”
He swung his eyes to me briefly before moving back to his girls. “Always, Chérie.”
“Did you marry my best friend because she was pregnant?”
Gator’s body stiffened. He blinked slowly at the girls but never took his eyes off them as he spoke.
“No. I married her because, despite the way she drives me crazy, I love her. I love her because she drives me crazy.”
“How did you make her believe that?” I asked.
When he finally looked at me with a raised brow, I rolled my eyes.
“She’s my best friend, Gator. I know her better than anyone, and I know she had doubts.
She told me before you whisked her away to this place,” I said, waving my hand around the room.
“How did you convince her you weren’t just here for the babies? ”
“That’s not something I can answer. Only she can tell you that. I can tell you how much I was there for her. How much I love her and why. But she had to make the choice to trust my words and my actions. How she found that trust, only she knows.”
“That’s incredibly unhelpful,” I deadpanned, causing Gator to throw his head back and laugh loudly, scaring one of the babies.
He quickly pulled her from her seat and lifted her in his arms to calm her fears, and as he whispered in her ear, words I couldn’t hear, I realized that my mother was right. I had to tell Jude that he was going to be a father again.
He deserved to be a part of his child’s life.
I thought about my parents. They successfully co-parented me without being in love. They worked as a team to make sure I always felt loved and safe. My father might not have been there every day, but he was there when I needed him most.
I didn’t mean to break his heart when I accused him of being absent for certain moments in my life, and I’d need to apologize to him. Then I would tell him he would be a grandfather again.
King had called me as soon as they’d gotten the results of the paternity test, and I was so happy for them both. I would be an aunt a few weeks before I gave birth to my second child.
If I were able to give birth.
I had an appointment in a few hours, and I would know for sure.
Once I knew, and once my mother was here, I would travel to Arkansas and tell Jude about the baby. But if the appointment delivered bad news, then there was no reason to tell him anything.
A few hours later, I was staring at the computer screen, listening to the rhythmic thump of my baby’s heartbeat and watching the little bean wiggle.
Devlyn squeezed my hand as tears ran down my face. “You’re having a baby,” she cooed.
All I could do was nod. I didn’t have words to describe what I was feeling. I’d thought seeing the baby exactly where it should be would ease my fears, but it didn’t.
Because now there were new fears. Was I eating enough? Was I too stressed out? What if I fell? Could the baby get hurt? What if the cord got wrapped around the baby’s neck and I didn’t know? What if something happened during the birth?
“Morgan, it will all be okay,” Devlyn whispered.
“You don’t know that,” I answered, still staring at my baby.
“You have to believe.”
I looked at my best friend. “I have to tell him.”
She smiled and rubbed my hand. “Yeah, you do.”
I looked back at the screen. “But I don’t have to be with him,” I said, mostly to myself. I was the one who needed to be convinced that a baby didn’t mean I had to be with a man who didn’t want me.
Again, I thought about my parents. I would keep them at the forefront of my mind. A reminder every day of how two people can love each other but not be in love. Work together to raise a child without being in a relationship that would only make everyone involved miserable.
Me, because I was in love with a man who didn’t want me.
Him, because he felt obligated to be with his baby’s mother.
And our child, who would feel that tension, that disconnect between their parents. A child who would always feel like a burden because the two people who loved them the most could never be happy together.
I would tell Jude the truth. I would let him be a part of his child’s life. But not a part of mine. I couldn’t go down that road again. My parents never made me feel like an obligation.
I’d be damned if I let that man make me feel like one.
And fuck him if he ever made my child feel that way.