Chapter 13 Katie
KATIE
Drowning myself in work is what I'm good at.
Thank fucking God for that, because I've needed it. I thought I was actually getting to a point in life where I’d have… well, a life, but it looks like I was mistaken.
Wayne dropped off the face of the earth after I invited him over.
He went from texting me constantly and following me around the ranch like a puppy to being inexplicably gone.
He hasn't called me back, and I haven’t seen him since that night.
The promise to take me out riding for a cute picnic date slipped right down the drain, along with my hopes for anything serious between Wayne and me.
I feel ridiculous for even considering it.
He's Wayne fucking Riggs, playboy extraordinaire, one of my high school bullies, for Christ’s sake. What was I even thinking?
I should have known all of it was a game to him. He’s treated his whole life like a game. Why would he treat me any differently? I have no clue where the asshole is or what he's up to, and I refuse to care.
He could have fallen into a volcano, for all I care. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy.
I’ve got the heifers and the new calves and all of the horses to handle here.
It’s vaccine season, too, so I’m running around like a chicken without a head trying to keep up with everything.
Today in particular has been rough, mostly because I've been nauseous since I woke up. I’m doing my best to focus on the endless list of things I need to do, but it just won't leave me be.
It’s barely past lunch when it finally gets the best of me.
I walk out of the barn, intending to get some fresh air and clear my head a bit.
The smell of hay and manure and sweat-soaked leather is usually comforting to me, but today it turns my stomach.
I lean back against the worn wood of the barn and press my hand to my stomach.
Maybe I caught a bug or something. Maybe I'm just overworking myself.
I bend down to place my hands on my knees and breathe deeply, closing my eyes against the harsh midday sun. I was expecting to calm down and get myself under control, but the longer I stay like this, the stronger the nausea grows.
Oh, fuck, am I actually going to throw up?
The thought barely crosses my mind before acid sears straight up my throat. I wince at the bitter taste, shaking as I heave up bile and the single bite of a bagel I had managed to force down this morning.
It doesn't taste any better the second time around.
Mary rounds the corner just as I straighten up and wipe the back of my hand across my mouth in disgust.
“Oh, honey,” she coos, her brows scrunched together in concern as she rushes over. “Are you alright? What do you need? Let’s get you inside for a bit.”
I chuckle at the immediate motherly concern that seems to overcome her, but I don’t argue as she wraps an arm around my shoulders and leads me toward the house. I’m still shaky, and the vile taste of vomit coats my teeth. Sitting down sounds like a good idea right now.
“I’m okay, promise,” I say. “I haven’t eaten much today, and the heat probably isn’t helping. I’m sure if I can sit in the air conditioning for a bit and have some water, I’ll be just fine.”
Mary clicks her tongue scoldingly and shakes her head as she guides me up the path that leads to the house.
“You can’t be skipping meals on us, Doc,” she says with a sigh. “You take as long as you need to sit and cool down. I’ll get you some water and something to eat. Anything sound good?”
It’s rare that I have intense cravings for anything in particular. I eat what I want, for the most part. That’s what surprised me about the immediacy of my answer.
“Watermelon,” I groan. “Watermelon sounds so good, actually.”
I can damn near taste it already, sweet and juicy and full of sugar. Damn, I must be more dehydrated than I thought if the thought of watermelon has my knees shaking.
“Watermelon isn’t a meal.” Mary laughs and swings the front door of their house open, finally releasing my shoulders to usher me inside. “You need some real food.”
I shoot a bashful grin over my shoulder before heading toward the kitchen. Mary follows after shutting the door behind us.
“You’re the one who asked if anything sounded good,” I tease.
She rolls her eyes affectionately at me and nods toward the table.
I take a seat as she pulls a glass down from the cabinet.
I feel a little awkward now that I’m in their house.
It’s not the first time, not by far — hell, I’ve spent holidays with Everett before, back when he was really spiraling and I was too worried to leave him or Jenny alone.
But I’m a little… on edge about my place in people’s lives right now.
There’s always a part of me that wonders if I think of them more fondly than they think of me, though. I don’t want to overstep.
Then again, Mary is literally rifling through the fridge looking for watermelon for me. Maybe I’m just overthinking things.
“Success!” Mary cheers as she pulls a container of cut watermelon from the fridge. “You can chow down on that while I make you some real food. Are you allergic to anything?”
I almost want to cry when she sets the container down in front of me along with a fork. She’s been a sweetheart since I met her, but I usually spend more time around Everett. It’s nice to have girls around, no matter how much I love the rough and tumble of my job.
“You’re an angel,” I tell her as I pop the lid of the container free. “I’m not allergic to anything, but really, this is plenty. Honestly, the thought of anything else makes me feel kind of nauseous.”
It’s bright red and so juicy it glistens. My mouth waters so much that I worry I might actually drool for a moment.
“Jeez, you sound like you’ve got pregnancy cravings,” Mary says with a laugh. “What, are you going to ask for pickles and peanut butter next?”
We burst out laughing. I almost choke on the watermelon in my throat. The thought of me being pregnant is so ridiculous I can’t even begin to fathom it. I’ve thought about having a kid, maybe two, but that’s something so far down the line it’s still absurd to consider.
“Nah, I’m sure it’s just the heat.” I shake my head as I munch down on another piece of watermelon. It’s so sweet it almost makes my teeth ache, in the very best way. “I get the depo shot, and I always use protection anyway.”
Discomfort settles heavily in my gut when I remember that I actually missed my last depo appointment. I had to reschedule it due to work, and it just slipped my mind. Still, though, I always insist on condoms, and it’s been ages since I slept with anyone but Wayne.
…Wayne, who I didn’t use a condom with the first time we slept together…
Wayne, who I told to just pull out last time…
I pause with the fork halfway to my mouth, worry tripping over itself in my lungs. There’s no way. He only came inside me one time.
A craving for watermelon doesn’t mean anything. Nor does a little nausea.
Mary must notice the way I freeze, though, because she turns back toward the fridge before she starts talking again.
“It’s always kind of funny to take a pregnancy test, though, isn’t it?” Her words are forced, an obvious urge, an obvious out for me to sate my own curiosity. “There’s one under the sink in the hallway bathroom. You could just check and see.”
I hesitate, certainty and a lack thereof squirming around unpleasantly in my stomach. Or maybe I’m just still nauseous.
“Why do you have a pregnancy test lying around?” I joke.
It’s easier than acknowledging the real question. It’s easier than admitting out loud that I’m going to do it.
Mary laughs at me, a soft look in her eyes.
Understanding and affection both sit in the lines of her face, and she nods toward the hallway without saying anything, silently encouraging.
She’s not that much older than I am, but she’s so level-headed about things that it makes it easier for me to be calm about them, too.
I make my way into the bathroom and then search under the sink for the test, refusing to think about my actions as I do. It’s just a silly game, like Mary said. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s pee on a stick.
And it’s going to be negative, anyway.
I laugh at myself even as I take a seat on the porcelain throne. I’ve never done this before, and it takes a minute for me to get my hand in position and calm myself down enough to actually pee. I manage to avoid getting any pee on my hand and then set the test up to run.
I let my thoughts wander as I wash my hands, not looking at myself in the mirror.
What would life be like with a kid? I could handle it, sure, but I'm not ready for that. I haven't prepared, haven't started saving or planning. I'd be a good mom, but now isn't the time for something like that.
And Wayne certainly isn’t the right person for me to have a baby with.
He's already proven that he's not ready for a relationship, much less a child. The minute I started thinking we were really getting somewhere serious, that I could trust him, he shattered that illusion. He took off to who knows where, and I have no clue if I'll see him again.
I was fooling myself about the possibility of a relationship with Wayne, but I won't fool myself about the chance for a family with him. That's a step too far.
The timer on my phone goes off, and I jump as I’m shocked out of my thoughts. I chuckle at my thoughts as I reach for the stick. I'm so ready to see a clear negative that I don't recognize what I'm looking at for several long seconds.
But right there, clear as day, is a plus.
It’s positive.
Oh.
Fuck,
It feels like the floor drops out from under me, my stomach flipping as the nausea makes a full comeback. I bend over the toilet and hurl up the watermelon I just ate.
Panic takes over, my breaths coming fast as my thoughts whirl. What am I supposed to do? This has to be wrong. I misread it.
My hands shake as I fumble for the test again, but the result doesn't change.
A knock sounds at the door, and I damn near jump out of my skin.
“Katie?” Mary says, her voice muffled through the door. “Are you okay?”
I rush to stand, smoothing out the creases in my shirt as best I can. The test is still clutched in my hand as I fumble the bathroom door open. Mary stands there, a hopeful smile on her face.
“Can I see?” she asks, glancing toward the test.
I hand it over silently, a shaky, forced smile on my face. She squeals in excitement as soon as she sees the result, but it tapers off when she looks back up at me.
I'm trying so hard to be happy, but I'm fucking terrified.
My wide eyes fill with silent tears, and Mary steps forward and immediately pulls me into a hug. She doesn't say anything, just holds me close as I struggle to keep my breathing under control.
This wasn't supposed to happen. What am I supposed to do?
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the baby is Wayne’s, given how much time we've been spending together. God, if Everett puts it together, I have no idea what will happen. This could affect my career in so many ways. It'll change my entire life.
I break down into tears on Mary’s shoulder, clutching at her as I sob.
“Oh, sweetie, it'll be okay,” she says softly. “Hush, you don't need to cry. Deep breaths, in and out.”
I fight to follow her instructions, copying her steady exhalations until I can open my eyes and not feel like I'm about to collapse.
“I think you should go home for today,” Mary suggests. “Get some rest, do some thinking, eat some ice cream. Or watermelon.” She says the last part with a smile. I don’t have it in me to smile back.
Normally, I'd argue, but I don't have the energy right now. There are too many things to think about for me to stay here. I need the comfort of my own space, my own bed.
I have to decide if I should tell Wayne. What I should tell Everett. I trust Mary to keep my secret for now, but I can only rely on that for so long.
I'm going to keep the baby, I already know that, but there are so many things to figure out. God, what the hell am I supposed to do?
Fuck.
Fuck.