Chapter 26
Taylor rubbed her temples, fighting the dull throb that had become her constant companion over the past few days.
The fluorescent lights of the hospital cafeteria seemed especially harsh today, making her squint as she picked at her lunch.
The usually delicious chicken Caesar salad turned her stomach, and she pushed it away with a sigh.
She was either not feeling anything at all or eating something in surplus.
“You’re not eating again?” Blake slid into the seat across from her, unwrapping her sandwich with an arched brow. “That’s what? The third time this week.”
Taylor shrugged, sipping her ginger ale. “Just not hungry. I thought I wanted it, but maybe I should’ve got the soup.”
Blake studied her friend, taking in the slight pastiness beneath her brown skin, the way she kept rubbing her temples, and the untouched food.
“Mmhmm. And you’ve been looking like death warmed over for days. What’s going on with you?”
“Damn thanks for that glowing compliment,” Taylor said dryly. “It’s nothing, gotta be a bug or something we do work in a hospital.”
“Taylor, baby, please go to hell.” Blake’s tone was flat with disbelief. She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “How long have you been feeling sick? Indulge your bestie.”
Taylor paused, thinking back. The nausea had started about two weeks ago, it was mild. She’d been moody, especially about food. Fatigue that coffee couldn’t touch, the headaches. She felt where her friend was going and refused.
“No, nope. Not even,” she replied, shaking her head. “It’s probably just stress from the gala coming up. Your brother’s been on edge about winning that contract. And what he would do if he didn’t.”
Blake’s eyes narrowed, her sandwich forgotten. “Uh-huh. And when was your last period?”
The question hit Taylor upside the head. She froze, her plastic cup halfway to her lips, as she mentally calculated backward. Once... twice...
“Oh my God. Oh my God,” she whispered, the blood draining from her face.
Blake’s eyes widened, and she reached for her friend’s hand. “Taylor, really?”
Taylor set her cup down with a shaky hand. “No, that’s not possible. We’ve been careful. Well, mostly careful.”
“Girlllaaaaa, you been letting my brother shoot up the club?” Blake pressed gently.
Images flashed through Taylor’s mind, that first night together after the strip club, they’d been careful. But Denver, her darling Denver, they’d been less than vigilant in their hotel suite. And since then... well, they hadn’t exactly been models of restraint.
“I can’t be. And can you please be serious? Shooting up the club. I can’t stand you.” Taylor tossed a piece of lettuce at Blake, and they laughed.
“There’s one way to find out,” Blake said, already gathering their trays. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” Taylor asked, though she already knew the answer.
Blake stood, leaving no room for an argument.
“To the ER, to see Diana. She owes me a favor, and they’ve got pregnancy tests.”
“Blake!” Taylor hissed, glancing around the cafeteria. “I can’t just…”
“You can, and you will.” Blake’s tone softened as she took in her friend’s panicked expression.”
“Taylor, honey, we, I mean you need to know. One way or the other.”
Taylor closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Blake was right. She needed to know. But the possibility... The implications.
“What if I am?” She whispered, voicing her deepest fear. “I just got divorced and now I’m pregnant.. What the hell?”
“Taylor, first things first,” Blake said, her hand firm on Taylor’s arm as she guided her toward the elevators. “Let’s find out if there’s anything to worry about. Then we’ll deal with the rest. Together.”
Twenty minutes later, Taylor stared at the small plastic stick in her hand, the two pink lines stark against the white background. Diana, Blake’s friend from the ER, had slipped them into an empty exam room and handed Taylor the test with a sympathetic smile and a promise of discretion.
She was numb. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not now. Not with her life barely stitched back together. But there it was, two line signifying a future forming inside her before she could even name what she wanted.
“It’s positive,” Taylor said, her voice sounding distant to her own ears. “I’m pregnant.”
Blake, who had been pacing the small room, stopped and moved to her side. “You’re sure?”
Taylor handed her the test, the evidence undeniable. “Two lines. Positive.”
“Well, damn.” Blake stared at the test, then back at Taylor, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I’m gonna be an auntie.”
Despite everything, the shock, the fear, the uncertainty swirling, making her sick, Taylor found herself laughing weakly. “That’s your takeaway from this?”
“For now,” Blake admitted, sitting beside her on the exam table.
“Look, I know this is a lot. I know it’s not what you planned. But Taylor...” She squeezed her friend’s hand. “You’re not alone in this. And you don’t owe anybody shit, no explanation. Not even a little bit.”
Taylor nodded, tears welling in her eyes. She wasn’t alone. She had Blake. She had her job, her independence. And she had Brooks.
Brooks.
The thought of him sent a fresh wave of anxiety through her. They had just found their footing, had just stopped dancing around what they meant to each other. What would this do to them? Would he be happy? Feel Trapped? Overwhelmed?
“What am I going to tell Brooks?” She whispered, her hand moving unconsciously to her still-flat stomach.
Blake’s expression softened. “The truth, Taylor. Tell him the truth. He a grown man.”
“And what is that, exactly?” Taylor’s voice cracked with emotion. “That I’m pregnant? That we’re having a baby? That in seven or eight months, our lives are going to change completely?”
“Yes,” Blake said simply. “Basically, all of that. He was there very present and very careless. If he didn’t want babies, he should have wrapped it up. Brother or not.”
Taylor closed her eyes, trying to imagine the conversation, trying to picture Brooks’ reaction. Would he pull away? Would he step up even more than he already had? What did she want him to do?
The answer to that last question came with surprising clarity: she wanted him to be happy. To want this baby as much as she was already beginning to, despite the fear and uncertainty. She wanted them to face this together, as a family.
“I need to see him,” she said suddenly, standing up. “Now. Today.”
Blake nodded, already pulling out her phone. “Go. Girl, fuck this place. Plus, you look terrible. You need to try again tomorrow, or something.”
Taylor hesitated, gratitude washing over her. “Blake, Go to hell. And I can’t just leave work.”
Blake cut her off with a smile. “Yes, you can. Think of it as an extended lunch. They will be fine. Go tell my brother he’s going to be a daddy.”
Taylor did just that. She took an extended lunch and headed to drop the news.
The drive to Bishop Towing felt simultaneously too long and too short.
Taylor’s mind raced the entire way, rehearsing what she would say, how she would say it, struggling to envision Brooks’ reaction.
Every stoplight became a chance to second-guess herself, to wonder if she should wait until after the gala, until they had more time, until she was ready.
But she knew there would never be a perfect time for news like this. And Brooks deserved to know.
When she pulled into the lot, she spotted his car parked in its usual place, a sign he was in the office rather than out and about. Relief and terror mingled dancing in her chest as she made her way to the front entrance, nodding at Marco behind the counter.
“Hey, Taylor,” he greeted and a few others did the same. She’d grown to know a few of them over the course of her many visits. “Boss man’s in his office.”
“Thanks,” she managed, heading toward the back. Each step felt like moving through water with cinderblocks on her legs. They were heavy and her heart was pounding against her ribs.
She paused outside Brooks’ door, gathering her courage. Through the glass, she could see him leaning against his desk phone pressed to his ear. The familiar sight of him made her heart beat with love and fear. Before she could lose her nerve, she knocked softly and pushed the door open.
Brooks glanced up, surprise flashing across his face before his expression softened into that smile he reserved only for her. He held up a finger, signaling he’d be just a minute, before returning to his call.
“Yeah, we’ll be there. Seven sharp. Thanks again.” He ended the call, laying his phone down, giving her his full attention.
“Hey beautiful, this is a nice surprise. You get fired?” he joked.
Taylor stepped fully into the office, closing the door behind her. “We need to talk. ”
Something in her tone must have alerted him because his easy smile faded, replaced by concern. “What’s wrong? You okay?”
“I’m not sure,” she said honestly, moving to stand before him. He grabbed her arm and brought her in for a hug.
“Talk to me Tay. What’s on your mind?” He was getting concerned. She was pausing, avoiding eye contact and Taylor didn’t miss work. As he searched her face, she looked fatigued, like she’d had a hard day. “Talk to me.”
“Brooks, I’m pregnant,” she said with a shriek, then covering her mouth. She hadn’t planned to blurt it out, but standing here, facing him, all her carefully rehearsed speeches disappeared.
Brooks went completely still, his expression unreadable as he stared at her.
“You’re sure? You’re foreal?” He asked finally, his voice carefully neutral.
Taylor nodded, “I did a test at the hospital. I came straight here to tell you. Are you upset?”
Her question offended him slightly.
“Are you? Are you ok?” He knew this wasn’t a part of her plan right now. They were still living apart, she wasn’t his wife yet, and so many other things. He’d stand with her on whatever her choice or feelings on it were. Brooks stood, eyes never leaving hers.
For a second, the air between them felt too full.