Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
RYAN
The main street was quiet, with only a few people left, locking up their businesses and making their way home as the evening settled in.
I sat rigidly in the cab of the rental truck, vigilant as a sentry on watch, my heart rate steady, my gaze fixed on the door to Jo’s apartment.
Amara was still with her cousin. The hour felt like a long workday.
My thoughts occupied my time as I waited for Amara to leave.
The conversation that I’d travelled all this way to have with Jo would have to wait. A part of me was relieved to put it off.
First, I had questions.
The moment I glanced at the pamphlet’s subject, I knew. Jo was pregnant. I didn’t know how I felt about it. Our lives were about to be turned upside down.
Was it presumptuous of me to assume it was my child?
No. Maybe. Probably.
Either way, I had to get to the bottom of things.
Jo owed me answers. The most pressing question was: When was she going to tell me about her condition?
I owed her answers as well, but my questions took precedence. We had been alone earlier, and she’d dismissed me without sharing the news.
Did it take priority? Part of me wondered.
I had been away for four months, which was a significant amount of time. I hadn’t expected it to be so long. One moment I was away visiting my mother, and the next I found myself back at Silver Creek. I couldn’t, and wouldn’t leave until I had my shit together and felt like I was back in control.
Surprisingly, amid all the chaos and turmoil, I clung to one thing. Well, one person.
Memories of Jo, a radiant light I clung to in the suffocating darkness, flooded back unexpectedly. Seeing her again proved what I had discovered when I wasn’t myself. Jo had become important to me.
After an hour and a half, Amara emerged from the apartment. I waited until the way cleared before heading to Jo’s door.
Jo’s voice echoed down the stairwell as the door swung open immediately after I pressed the doorbell. The town was safe, but it didn’t sit well with me that she hadn’t asked who it was.
“Come on up,” she instructed.
When I got to the top of the stairs, the door was open. I entered and closed the door behind me, locking it.
Jo mumbled something about “locking my door.” She stopped on the other side of the counter.
“You didn’t ask who it was?” The accusation was clear as day in my tone.
“Why? I knew it was you.” Jo sighed, swiping her hand over her face as if brushing away invisible cobwebs, and her expression softened into a polite smile. “Would you like to sit? Something to drink?”
“No.” I shook my head, my hand instinctively reaching for the brim of my hat, only to find it missing. The realization hit me like a jolt—I’d left it in my truck, something I never did. But then again, I’d never imagined I’d be standing here, grappling with the possibility of fatherhood.
It wasn’t confirmed yet, but deep down, I already knew.
“Then come in and have a seat. I imagine you have questions.” She grabbed her glass of water and headed to her sofa.
I worked my boots off and joined her in her living room, sitting across from her. She looked tired. For the first time, I doubted whether this was the best time to confront her. But I was already there.
“Are you pregnant, Jo?” I blurted out. No more beating around the bush. I needed answers, and I needed them now.
Jo’s expression was unreadable, and I braced myself for whatever answer she was about to give.
“Yes.” She stood, then tucked a leg beneath her as she sat back down.
“How long have you known?” My voice was steady, but inside, a storm was brewing with a mix of frustration and disappointment I couldn't fully hide.
Something I didn’t recognize flickered in her eyes before she narrowed them slightly at me.
“A week.” She pulled a pillow onto her lap, clinging to it.
I couldn’t believe she’d kept it from me for so long. A week felt like an eternity, and the betrayal stung. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the anger was building, threatening to spill over.
I clenched my fists, struggling to maintain my composure and not let my voice rise. The urge to shout was overwhelming, but I knew that wouldn’t solve anything. Instead, I focused on keeping my words calm, even as my mind raced with accusations and questions. “And when were you going to tell me?”
Jo didn’t answer; she just stared at me, her nostrils flaring slightly.
I waited for her to explain herself, but the silence stretched on.
The tension in the room grew heavier with each passing second.
I couldn’t help but wonder if her hesitation was a sign of guilt or simply uncertainty about how to proceed.
Guilt could only mean one thing. “Were you going to tell me?”
“Well, of course I was.” She shrugged.
Shrugged! Like she was dismissing me.
“Just not yet. This pregnancy is very unexpected, so excuse me for needing time to process this.” Her voice trailed off.
“You aren’t the only one needing to process things, Jo.” My tone was sharp. I could no longer hide my anger.
She looked down, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as her fingers dug into the soft fabric of the pillow.
It felt like I was missing something. Jo was a logical person.
Maybe there was another reason she hadn’t told me.
Why hadn’t it occurred to me before? I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story.
Jo’s hesitation and her evasive answers, made me question everything.
Was I overthinking it, or was there a truth she was hiding from me?
“Is it mine?” I blurted out the question, which slipped past my lips before I could stop it.
She sat up straighter, her shoulders rigid, and her voice dropped to a low, sharp tone. “You know what?” she muttered, her words dripping with bitterness. I’d never seen her like this before—angry, almost seething—and I realised this was the side of Jo I’d only heard about but never witnessed.
Well, I wasn’t too happy myself.
“What?” I snapped.
She drummed her fingers on the pillow as if she were counting. The seam of her lips were tight, her eyes squeezed shut. Then they flew open, shooting daggers. “Yes, Ryan. Are we finished?”
“Not by a long shot.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you? When during one of our many conversations over the last four months?” Her upper lip curled in an angry snarl.
“Is this what this is about? I haven’t been in touch. So, you were going to keep me from knowing I was becoming a father?”
Under her breath, I’m certain I made out “Motherfucker.” I hadn’t come to her place fixin’ for an argument, but if she wanted one…
Jo shook her head. “Ryan, I don’t have time for this.”
I struggled to understand how she could brush off my concerns so easily. The woman I had gotten to know was kind, reasonable, and all about fairness.
“Make time,” I ordered. My shoulders tensed under the weight of my frustration.
“Make time? Fine! I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you!
Don’t you dare lecture me about not telling you I’m pregnant.
Where do I start? Let’s start at the beginning.
” She held up one finger. “We weren’t in a relationship.
You popped in to visit like Aunt Flow, once a month for three months so we could bang, and then…
you disappeared for four months. Two.” Jo held up another finger as she continued.
Jo’s outburst left so much to unpack. Aunt Flow? Was I a nuisance or an unwanted visitor she simply tolerated? Or was she just upset with me for disappearing on her?
“I only found out a week ago. Seven days. I only got confirmation from my doctor earlier today. To say this entire situation has been a lot to wrap my mind around is an understatement. I haven’t discussed it with anyone in my life — my cousin, who is my best friend, or my parents.
” She shuddered when she mentioned her parents.
“Listen. I don’t want to argue with you. I’m not trying to avoid the conversation, but I need some time to decompress before we dive into it. Let’s schedule a time when we’re both ready to talk calmly and openly. For now, I need to shower then find something to eat.”
Like a storm breaking apart, I watched her anger slowly dissipate, leaving exhaustion in its wake.
Her shoulders slumped, and the hold on the pillow on her lap loosened.
Her eyes, once blazing with intensity, now seemed clouded and heavy, betraying the weight of her emotions.
I realised then how truly overwhelmed she was, her usual vibrant energy replaced by a quiet fatigue.
It was as if the tempest within her had drained every ounce of strength, leaving only a weary calm.
Her well-being and the baby’s health were our top priorities, and rushing decisions would only add unnecessary stress. For now, it was time to focus on her comfort. Setting aside my own hurt, I turned my focus to where it should be.
I opened my mouth to tell her I would leave her to get some rest when something occurred to me. “When did you last eat?”
She looked surprised by the question, as if it hadn't occurred to her. “At lunch.”
It had been hours . “You need to eat something,” I insisted, determined to look out for her.
“I will. I just need to take a shower first. God, today seems to have gone on forever.” She looked towards the door, as if urging me to leave.
That should have been my cue to go, but I didn’t want to leave her alone. I felt responsible for adding to her stress, and I couldn’t bear the thought of not making it better.
“What? No. What?” She shook her head, looking horrified. “You go home; I’ll be alright.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“I will eat after my shower. Promise.” Jo raised her hand, palm in the air.
“I came in here all hot. Let me make it up to you. I will put together something for you to eat while you shower. Then, when you are finished, you can eat.”
“What are the chances of you taking no for an answer?”
“None,” I admitted.
“Do you even know how to cook?” she questioned.
“I know my way around the kitchen and how to keep myself fed.” I tapped my stomach.
She sighed, tossing aside her pillow. “Fine. Want me to show you around my kitchen?”
“I can figure it out.” I stood. Her apartment, like her office, was neat, and it looked like everything had a place. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.
“Please don’t go to any fuss. I have bread and peanut butter.”
“Is that like a craving?”
For the first time since I arrived, she smiled. I missed seeing her eyes sparkle. “No. I was just throwing something out there.”
Jo disappeared towards her bedroom as I headed to her kitchen. I glanced at her breadbox but dismissed the idea of making her a sandwich. When I saw her at lunchtime, that’s what she was eating.
After going through the options available, I settled on cooking some pasta, heating up some homemade (I assumed made by Amara) spaghetti sauce, and putting together a salad.
As I worked, I could hear the water in the distance.
I hoped Jo could unwind and recharge and that the warm water would wash away some of the stress from our earlier argument.
I could have kicked myself for the way things unfolded tonight.
Our situation was starting off on the back foot because I barged in without thinking about how overwhelmed Jo was feeling.
I should have taken a moment to pause and assess the situation before pushing forward.
Now, I just hoped the soothing sound of the water and a peaceful environment would help us both reset.
By nature, I was a problem solver. I rarely went around causing issues.
I focus on finding solutions and making things work efficiently.
Somehow, I lost sight of that tonight. I allowed myself to get caught up in the moment, focusing on the problem rather than the solution.
It was a lapse in judgment, but now I’m determined to regain my focus and approach things with a clear, solution-oriented mindset.
I heard the water stop, but it was some time before she came back into the kitchen. She returned wearing an oversized blue sweater and tights, her hair neatly styled in a single braid draped over her shoulder.
“Sorry for the wait,” she said, her voice soft and apologetic. Jo looked less tense than when she left, but her fatigue was unmistakable. Her shoulders slumped slightly, and her eyes, though gentle, carried the weight of a long day.
“It’s alright. Have a seat.” I placed her plate in front of her. The salad bowl was already there.
She sat down, her expression calm but distant. “Thank you.”
Jo took a deep breath and began to eat, her movements slow and deliberate. The silence between us was comfortable, but I could tell she was lost in thought.
“You look tired,” I said, breaking the quiet. She nodded slightly, her fork hovering over the salad but didn’t take any.
“I’m going to head out and let you eat. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Can it wait until the afternoon?” She hesitated, then added, “I’ve got a lot on my plate tomorrow, so I’ll need to focus.”
“Yes, of course.” I should have asked her when she was free. It was the middle of the work-week. “I’m going to head out.”
Jo put down her fork and pushed her chair back.
“No, please don’t get up. Eat. I’ll see myself out.”
As I made my way back to my truck, all I could think about was how Jo and I would be linked for many years to come. Tonight was a rocky start, but we could fix it.