Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Suzie
I sit at the kitchen table, staring at my phone like it’s about to explode. Ethan’s name is right there at the top of my missed calls, glaring at me like it knows I’ve been ignoring it. My stomach twists into knots just looking at it.
I take a sip of my tea—it’s cold now, but I don’t have the energy to warm it up again—and tap my fingers against the table. I could just… not call him back. He’ll give up, eventually. Probably.
Okay, fuck. He won’t.
With a groan, I pick up the phone and hit the call button before I can second-guess myself again. He answers on the first ring, his voice sharp and accusing.
“About damn time, Suzie. Thought you might have fallen off the edge of the earth.”
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Hi, big brother. Good morning to you too. How have you been doing? Miss your baby sister at all?”
“Don’t try that shit with me,” Ethan snaps. “How long were you planning to keep this secret from us? Or from Pete and Dexter, for that matter?”
I close my eyes, guilt squeezing my chest. “I wasn’t planning anything, okay? I’ve barely known for a few weeks and am kind of still coming to terms with it all. And it wasn’t the right time yet, okay?”
“The right time?” His voice rises, and I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “Are you serious, Suzie? There’s never going to be a perfect time for something like this. You’re pregnant and you’re acting like it’s some kind of dirty secret. Do you have any idea how unfair it is, keeping this from them?”
My grip tightens on the phone, and anger starts bubbling up to replace the guilt. “You don’t think I know how hard this is, Ethan? I’m trying to figure it out, okay? It’s not like I don’t have a reason to be a little weary.”
I sigh, my head falling forward against the table. “It’s been so hard, E. I feel so fucking alone.”
“You could have told me,” he says, softer this time, but no less firm. “Hell, if you’d told Pete and Dexter you wouldn’t have had to be alone through this. Why aren’t you telling them, Suzie?”
I stay silent, because what can I say to that, that I haven’t already said?
“I’m also making Annie tell Monty and Lo if you don’t do it soon,” Ethan says, cutting right through my crazy thoughts. “I can appreciate you needing time to deal with it, but I’m not letting you go through this alone, and I know they will be able to talk sense into your stubborn head.”
“You wouldn’t!” I cry out, my heart lurching at his threat.
“Watch me.” His tone is steel. “Pete and Dexter deserve to know that one of them is going to be a dad soon. And you deserve to have support, whether you think you do or not.”
I swallow hard, my throat dry. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll tell them. It’s not like I wasn’t planning on it, at some point,” I add petulantly.
“When?”
I glare at the phone, wishing I could strangle him through it. “Soon. Like in the next few days. I’m working on it. I just need to figure out how to say it.”
There’s a long pause before Ethan responds. “You’ve got this, little sister,” he says, and I can hear the worry underneath his tough-guy act. “I love you.”
He hangs up before I can respond, leaving me staring at the screen with a mix of frustration and dread.
I push my phone aside and open my laptop, chewing on my lip as I type ‘how to tell your baby daddy you’re pregnant’. I might have more than one daddy to tell, but I don’t think Google will be much help with that kind of search.
Not surprisingly, there are quite a few helpful articles and how-to blog posts. I scroll through the different options until I find one that I don’t hate.
Another quick search shows me that there’s a place close by that can custom- print baby onesies, but before I can even think to dial the number I realize that I have five minutes to get to work.
Rushing out the door, I barely take the time to grab my bag and coat. I’ve never been so thankful that I live so close to my place of employment. The museum looms ahead of me as I jog down the sidewalk, the frosty morning air biting at my cheeks.
At least, now that I have a firmer plan on how to deal with my sharing my secret,I feel better. More positive.
Obviously, I should have been paying more attention to my surroundings.
My boots hit a patch of ice, and before I even have time to react, my feet go out from under me.
Shit.
Fuck.
Dammit.
Those are my last thoughts before everything goes dark.
Opening my eyes, I blink a few times, trying to bring the bright room into focus. The faint smell of antiseptic and the soft beeping clue me in as to where I am. The pounding of my skull, in turn, reminds me how the hell I ended up in the damn clinic a second time.
A soft groan escapes me as I push myself to a sitting position, and the second I do, two bodies come into focus.
Pete and Dexter.
What on earth?
“What—what are you doing here?” My voice comes out hoarse, and I blink up at them in confusion.
Their expressions are filled with worry, and I watch as Pete’s jaw tightens at my question.
“Lorcan and Montgomery are listed as your emergency contacts,” Pete says, his voice quiet, but firm. “When the clinic called them, they called us, because they know we’re here.”
Dexter shifts in his chair, his jaw tight. "How are you feeling?"
Before I can answer, the door opens, and a doctor—one I don't recognize—walks in, holding a clipboard. He gives me a kind smile before glancing at the men.
"Good morning. My name is Dr. Victor. You gave us all quite the scare. How's your head feeling?"
My hand instinctively moves to the spot at the back of my head where the pounding is the worst. "I—I have a bit of a headache," I respond, my gaze jumping to Pete and Dexter.
Nerves bubble up inside me. As much as my head hurts, I'm more worried about my little secret. My other hand moves to my stomach and I swallow down my anxiety before turning my attention back to the doctor.
"How's my baby, Dr. Victor?"
Both Pete and Dexter were standing next to the bed, but at my words they straighten up, their bodies frozen. I have my attention glued to the doctor in front of me, but I can't help but take in their expressions in my peripheral vision. They're un-fucking-readable.
Dr. Victor looks at the men before focusing back on me. "I need to run some scans before I can give you a definitive answer."
That isn't quite the response I was hoping for, and suddenly all my worry is for my baby.
I'm vaguely aware of the doctor turning to the men next to my bed and addressing them. It takes me a moment to realize he's asking them to leave the room to give me some privacy.
"No, wait—" I try to stop them, but Pete gives the doctor a small nod, his face still showing no reaction as he grabs Dexter's arm and pulls him toward the door.
The sound of the door closing feels like the final nail in the coffin of our non-relationship.
They left. Again.
And my heart breaks.