Chapter Twenty-Two
Four Days Later
I woke up Friday morning and I knew. I just knew.
And yet, I managed to make it through the day as if nothing had changed. As if my life hadn’t completely shifted course. It wasn’t until after I closed the bookstore, after I walked to the nearest pharmacy, after I found the aisle with the assortment of pregnancy tests that the seed of panic which had been planted on Monday morning began unfurling in my stomach.
I purchased one test and a bottle of water.
By the time I got home, the bottle was empty, and I had to pee.
When I was finished, I slid the cap back on the plastic stick, washed my hands, and left it in the bathroom as I went to pace back and forth along the hallway. Two minutes went by. Then five. Then ten.
I already knew the answer, but I wasn’t ready to look.
Instead, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and initiated a video call with Diane. It was midday in Palo Alto. She could have been at the gallery, or out to lunch, or at an offsite, checking out new art—but I needed her. So, when she didn’t answer after my first attempt, I immediately initiated another call. It was on my third try that she finally appeared on my screen.
“Hey! Sorry, my phone was on my desk, and I was out on the floor. Are you okay? You look—Sawyer? Are you okay?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know.”
The sudden urge to cry hit me square in the face. I furrowed my brow in an attempt to keep myself together, but the thought of saying it out loud for the first time was terrifying.
“Honey, you’re scaring me. Say something.”
“I’m—I’m pregnant,” I breathed.
I watched as all the muscles in her face went slack. She blinked her eyes closed tight and then opened them as she asked, “Wait, what?”
It was then that I finally returned to the bathroom and picked up the plastic stick. I barely looked at it before I held it in front of the camera so Diane could see it.
My hands were trembling.
“Oh, shit.”
“Mmhmm,” I hummed as I dropped the test back on the counter, all the words in my head just gone.
“I—I—”
She was as speechless as I was. I nodded then lowered myself until I was sitting on the edge of the tub. All at once, it felt like my lungs were shrinking, and for a moment, I thought I might hyperventilate.
“Okay, so, I’m not going to tell you to calm down—because I understand that’s a ridiculous thing to say right now—but I’m going to need you to breathe. Big, deep breaths.”
I nodded again, sure she was right, and sucked in a deep breath. It wasn’t until I’d gulped down a third that I realized she was breathing with me. No sooner had I gotten my breathing under control than I started crying.
“I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t be pregnant. I can’t be a mother. I can’t—I can’t do this. How did I let this happen? Oh my gosh, I’m such an idiot!” I cried, clapping a hand over my eyes.
“Honey, you’re not an idiot.”
“No. I am. I really am. I let him fuck me without a condom. This is all my fault.”
“Sawyer, honey…” She hesitated, and I peeked between my fingers in time to see her grimace a little before she continued, “You’ve never been on birth control. What were you thinking?”
I dropped my hand and stared at her pleadingly as I replied, “The first time was just heat of the moment, but he pulled out. He always pulls out—except once.”
“Yeah, about that, it only takes one time.”
“No—that’s not when it happened. I was already late the last time—it doesn’t matter. Fuck! How is it possible that I’m having this conversation? I’m sixteen all over again! No. I’m dumber than when I was sixteen. I didn’t get pregnant at sixteen.”
Diane tilted her head to one side and asked, “Didn’t you lose your virginity at nineteen?”
“So not the point right now!”
“Right. You’re right.”
I wiped at my cheeks aggravatedly, not entirely sure I knew what the point was anymore.
“Can I ask you a question?” I nodded with a sniffle, and she said, “You’re not an idiot. You’re not stupid or careless either. But you didn’t use a condom. Are you in love with him?”
“I don’t know,” I hiccupped.
“Okay, that’s fair,” she replied calmly. “You’ve got a lot on your mind right now.”
“Diane—I can’t be a mom. I don’t know how to be a mom.”
“Honey, I don’t think anyone knows how to be a mom—they just have babies and figure it out.”
“But what if I’m bad at figuring it out?”
She hesitated, studying me for a moment before she asked, “Do you want to figure it out? You don’t have to.”
The second I registered what she was saying, my heart sank.
It didn’t make sense, and I couldn’t explain it even if I tried, but in a fraction of a second, I knew abortion wasn’t an option. Not for me. Something was happening in my body already—something unstoppable.
Unstoppable.
I shook my head—but before I could put words to what I was feeling, the act itself seemed to rattle my thoughts free.
I remembered Rory making love to me.
I remembered what it felt like when he told me I was enough.
I remembered the letter from Sawyer I’d read more times than I could recall. I saw in my mind’s eye the line where he said I was as beautiful as the love that conceived me.
I didn’t know whether or not I could be a suitable mother.
I didn’t know if I trusted myself enough to try.
But I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, I was going to have the baby.
“I won’t abort it. I can’t. I can’t do that.”
“Okay. One choice made. That’s huge. That’s enough for today. I mean it. I know it might be hard—but just get through today. Talk to Rory. Maybe schedule a doctor’s appointment to double check.”
“Oh, my god, Rory,” I muttered, covering my eyes once more. “What if he doesn’t want kids? What if he does? What if this is too much pressure? We’ve only been together for a month. Diane, what was I thinking?!”
“Sawyer—I think you weren’t thinking.”
Moving my hand away from my eyes, I buried my fingers in my hair, pulling it away from my face. I was gearing up to respond when she insisted, “Hear me out. As the woman who knows you better than anyone else on the planet—I have a theory.”
“A theory?” I deadpanned.
“Yes,” she said, not the least bit fazed. “I think you’re in love with Rory. I think you’re scared to admit it because you’ve only known him a couple of months, and in the last ten years the longest you’ve stayed in a relationship has been, what, four maybe five months? But…this time is different.
“I know I’ve never met him, but I don’t need to meet him to know how he treats you. I see it on your face and hear it in your voice when you talk about him. He makes you feel safe and loved. My theory is, for the first time in your life, you’ve found someone—other than me—who you want to trust with your whole heart, and it scares the shit out of you.
“I asked you if you loved him, and you said you didn’t know. You didn’t say no. You also gave him your body. Maybe it wasn’t completely conscious, but you still did it. And I know you. You wouldn’t do that with a guy you thought was just hot.
“When you’re with him, you’re not thinking, you’re just feeling. You’re falling. And I know it’s scary, but this news? You need to tell him. You need to see if he’ll catch you.”
“But what if he doesn’t?” I whispered.
“Something tells me he’s no idiot either; and it takes two people to make a baby.”
We were interrupted when someone popped his head into her office, stealing her attention. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Diane nodded in response, signaled she’d be another moment, and then offered me an apologetic smile.
“Hon, I have to go. I’m so sorry.”
“Go, yeah, it’s okay. I’m bothering you in the middle of your workday.”
“You’re not bothering me. You know I’m here for you. We’ll talk again soon, okay? Call me whenever. I mean it. And remember what I said earlier. Don’t worry about tomorrow. Get through today. Talk to Rory, then let me know how it goes.”
“I will.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Bye.”
I sent Rory a text, asking if we could stay at mine that night, and then proceeded to wait for the longest three hours of my life.
Any attempts to distract myself were useless. I’d already blocked out the thought that I was pregnant for days . It wasn’t an option anymore. Laying across my bed, staring unseeingly up at the ceiling, I tried to think of how I was going to tell Rory.
Having children was never a hope I’d harbored. I wasn’t against it, exactly—it just wasn’t in my plans. It’s why I didn’t know how Rory would respond. We’d never talked about it because neither of us ever brought it up.
I thought about Graham and how he and Maya had a child later in life. Then I pictured Rory with Daisy. He never denied her when she wanted up , and the sound of her giggle every time he tickled her made him smirk. He was sweet with her, but that was no guarantee he wanted children of his own. Confoundingly, I couldn’t decide whether or not it would be a relief to learn he didn’t want any or if that would make it even more complicated.
I replayed Diane’s theory in my head over and over again, wondering if it was true. Having known something close to love before, I had an idea of what it might feel like—and this felt different. There were similarities, of course. We were still infatuated with each other; but underneath our lust and passion was something calmer. Something stable. The more I truly thought about it, the harder it was to deny what we had was different because it was grounded in reality. Rory added to my world rather than blocking out everything that wasn’t him.
But would he catch me?
I left the door to my building unlocked, so Rory didn’t have to ring the bell when he arrived. When he knocked on my flat’s door, I sat up, startled, then took a breath.
My stomach was in knots as I descended the stairs, and when I opened the door to find him standing there, I no longer wondered if Diane’s theory was true. I knew.
She was right.
It scared the shit out of me.
“Hi. Are you alright?” asked Rory, frowning down at me in concern.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurted.
That wasn’t at all how I planned on telling him, but the words fell right out of my mouth. I needed to get them out of me. I needed him to know the truth—and I needed to know if he’d catch me.
He stared at me for a long moment, his face giving away nothing before he asked, “Are you sure?”
Suddenly assaulted with the urge to cry again, I didn’t respond verbally. Rather, I clamped my lips closed tight and nodded as I tried to blink away my tears.
“Oh, sweetheart, please don’t cry. It cripples me.”
A sob crawled its way up my throat, the thought of everything falling apart right then causing me to panic all over again.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I let this happen.”
“Sawyer…” It was all he said before he was across the threshold, pulling me into his arms. He pressed his lips into my hair and mumbled, “This isn’t your fault, darling. It takes two. I’m just as culpable.”
“But now everything will be different. I didn’t want it to be this way. I wanted us to have a chance—I wanted us to be together because that’s what we wanted, not because we got stuck that way. And now there’s this. All this pressure that changes everything. And it makes me feel so selfish, but I can’t help it. Damnit! I’m not ready for this. I’m going to be a terrible mother.”
“Sawyer,” he called as he took hold of my arms and pushed us apart. His grip tightened, the crease in the middle of his brow appeared, and he continued, “That’s not even the slightest bit true.”
“Which part?” I hiccupped.
“All of it—but especially the latter part. You are unequivocally the sweetest person I know. You won’t be a terrible mother, and you won’t be doing it alone, either.”
“I don’t understand,” I muttered, shaking my head in confusion, the act sending fresh tears racing down my cheeks. “How are you so calm about all of this? Why aren’t you freaking out?”
A small smile pulled at his lips before he replied, “I’m better at hiding it than you are. Believe me when I tell you, the thought of becoming a father might be the scariest reality I’ve ever considered—but the thought of having a child with you doesn’t scare me at all.”
“What?” I breathed.
“I was content with my life as it was, until I met you. Now that I have you, I’m sure it would make me a fool to let you go. I have no intention of letting this make me second guess what it is I want.
“And for the record, I loved you before I knocked on that door. If we’re to be parents, then so be it—but I’m not stuck. I’ve already made my choice.”
He said it so matter-of-factly I had to replay it in my mind a few times before it sunk in.
“You—you love me?” I managed on a whisper.
Rory let go of my arms, took a step toward me, and gently grabbed hold of my face. As he grazed his thumbs across my cheeks, wiping away my tear streaks, he said, “Here’s what I know about time. A lot can happen in a little of it, or very little can happen in the span of a lot. It’s arbitrary.
“We’re still at the beginning of us, but you’ve shown me who you are. You’re mine. You said so yourself.”
I had said that.
I’d meant it, too.
Then and now.
I was enough. To Rory, I was enough.
He’d stolen my heart with that declaration.
No. That wasn’t exactly right.
I’d let him claim my body—but what I was really giving away that night was my heart. Not just bits and pieces of it, but all of it.
His declaration was a promise safeguarding my offering.
I loved him then as I loved him now, I just wasn’t ready to admit it. Not even to myself.
I pressed up onto my toes as I reached for him. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I buried my face in his neck and held on tight. He held me, too, and for the first time all day, it felt like maybe everything would be okay.
He’d caught me.
“Babe,” I murmured against his skin. “I love you, too.”
His arms held me tighter then, pulling me closer, my toes barely reaching the floor.
“Right. Now that all our cards are on the table, can I come in?”
I popped my head up, only then realizing we were still standing in front of my opened door. When my eyes found his, Rory quirked a playfully inquisitive eyebrow at me, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yes, please.”
He kissed me, then let me go and moved to close the door.
“How about I make you a cuppa? Do you have tea?”
I did, in fact, have some tea. I put the kettle on, and while we waited for the water to boil, I slipped into the powder room and splashed a bit of water on my face. Catching a glimpse of my reflection, I stared back at me for a moment and thought about my mother.
She’d had a day similar to the one I was having.
I wondered if she panicked.
Did she cry? Was she scared?
I knew she was all alone.
She never offered Sawyer the chance to help her. He wasn’t there to love her through it.
I couldn’t imagine, and I was so grateful to know I wasn’t alone.
The kettle whistled, and I made my way back to the kitchen.
As Rory poured the steaming hot liquid over the tea sachet in my mug, I pressed myself against his back, circling my arms around his middle, and splaying my hands open across his chest.
“Are you okay?” he asked, covering one of my hands with one of his.
I nodded. “Better.”
He finished my cup of tea, and then we went into the living room and sat together on the couch. I faced him, folding my legs beneath me before bringing my tea to my lips.
“I know we’ve got loads to discuss, but I have no idea where to begin,” he admitted.
I did.
“It’s a little late to ask—but do you want kids?”
“Yes is the simple answer. The King’s Steed has been in my family for generations. If I don’t have children, I’ll have no one to pass it down to. Not that I intend to force it on anyone, but you know what I mean.”
Toying with the string of my tea bag, I pressed, “And the complicated answer?”
“I’d already resigned myself to not having any.”
“Why?”
“I’ve told you before. Since Henry died, I’ve chosen the pub and its success over everything else. I was told that made me selfish—and I believed it. I embraced it. If it was one or the other, there was no choice. The pub means everything to me.”
I knew this to be true. I remembered how his last relationship ended, and I still maintained I would never ask him to choose. People juggled jobs and families all the time. Granted, I didn’t know what that sort of life looked like—but Rory did.
“Your grandpa had both,” I pointed out.
“Sure, eighty years ago. That was soon after the war. Life was very different back then. Simpler, in many ways.”
I nodded even as my stomach twisted in knots.
“But now…now there’s this,” I said softly, resting a hand against my belly. “There’s us. If we can’t figure out how to do both—”
“With you there is no either or,” he interrupted. “There was a time when I was convinced there would always be an either or— but you and I are different. We’re all or nothing.” He reached over and swept a bit of hair behind my ear before wrapping his fingers around the side of my neck. “I said before that I don’t feel stuck—but in a way, we both are, just not how you meant it.
“I own the pub next door, and you own the bookshop downstairs. We’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. At this rate—if we only stop at one, that kid will have two businesses to sort out.”
I laughed softly, leaning into his touch as I insisted, “Let’s just see how we do with this one. For now, that’s quite enough.”
“Agreed.”