Chapter 5 Finley
FIVE
FINLEY
“Just go out there and tell them,” I mumble to my reflection before yanking a thick hoodie over my head.
It’s been two days since I was let go from my job, and I need to face my roommates.
I’m sure the rumor mill has been working overtime, and they’ve already heard whatever details Blaine decided to make public, but I have yet to come face-to-face with either of them.
At least I’ll be able to pay my rent now, thanks to the perfect timing of Theo needing a dog sitter.
I pull at the fabric of my shirt, making sure my bump is hidden. I swear, it grew overnight, which I guess is to be expected when you have an entire human being living inside you. I don’t really even know why I’m trying to conceal it, since they already know. Habit, I suppose.
Making my way to the kitchen, my mouth immediately waters when the smell of coffee hits my nose.
It’s a welcome reaction, since up until a few weeks ago, everything that wasn’t the scent of fresh air made me want to puke.
Even the anti-nausea meds I was prescribed only worked for a short time before I was ready to high-five the toilet bowl.
First-trimester nausea: zero stars. Do not recommend.
“Good morning,” I say in greeting as I enter the room.
Phoebe peeks over the mug she has poised in front of her mouth, eyes lowering to my midsection before taking a sip.
It’s subtle but lets me know that she’s aware of my situation.
Nerves grip at my throat, the choking feeling causing me to pull at my collar. “Where’s Cee?”
“Shower,” she replies. I nod, quietly walking to the coffee maker, because I’m only going to tell the story once. I’ll get it out, let them know I have something else lined up, and move on with my day. It’s going to be fine. People have babies all the time.
I busy myself by pouring a cup of coffee, then grab a blueberry muffin from the counter.
By the time I’m settled at the table, Cecilia is entering the room with her hair wrapped in a towel.
She looks exhausted, the dark circles under her eyes indicating that she went out after last night’s shift.
I thought I heard someone stumble in around four this morning, but I was too wiped out to get up and see for myself.
“So,” I croak, setting my breakfast down and lowering into a chair across from where they both sit. “I’m not sure if you heard, but Blaine let me go the other day. I’m…” I hesitate, taking a deep breath and blowing it out through pursed lips. “I’m pregnant.”
They look at each other, exchanging one of their secret glances, before turning their attention back to me. It only ramps up my nerves, because while I’ve always felt like an outsider looking into their friendship, it’s never been more apparent than it is now.
“We heard,” Cecilia says, not a hint of emotion behind her eyes. “Everyone at the club is saying you hooked up with Eric Moss, but he’s telling people that you’re just trying to pin the baby on him because he has money. Is he really the dad?”
Wow. What a bunch of fucking assholes.
I figured my coworkers would be talking amongst themselves, coming up with their own stories about my pregnancy, but I never expected Eric to get involved.
I swore to him that I hadn’t been with anyone else, and I never asked him for a dime.
All I wanted was for my baby to have the relationship with their father that I never did.
It wasn’t easy growing up without knowing where I came from.
I yearned for that connection, which is why I was so set on making sure Eric was a part of everything.
I didn’t expect a relationship or anything beyond co-parenting.
But the fact that he’s sticking to his the baby isn’t mine bit is really upsetting.
He was right there the night the condom broke.
He saw it with his own two eyes yet refuses to believe that I’m carrying his child.
I raise my chin, mustering up every ounce of confidence I have left, which admittedly isn’t much right now.
I’ve already felt far too much shame over the fact that I got pregnant by someone who’s not only a Club Tilt patron but who also dismissed us.
I’m an adult with every right to start a family, and as much as Eric’s reaction sucks, I did nothing to warrant it.
So, fuck him and anyone else who wants to bring their negativity into what should be a happy time for me.
“It doesn’t matter,” I reply, changing the subject quickly because, even though I want to, I refuse to badmouth my child’s father.
“I know having a baby around isn’t ideal for either of you, but I promise it won’t interfere with your personal lives.
I’ve already lined up another job, so I’ll have my portion of the rent to you after the weekend, with a late fee for the inconvenience.
” The position with Theo is temporary, but it gives me time to figure out a long-term solution.
They don’t need to know any of that, though.
Phoebe’s brows pull in, her skin turning a strange shade of gray as she stares blankly.
“Ummm,” she stammers, “we kind of figured you wouldn’t want to stay here anymore, since we aren’t exactly quiet.
We sort of already rented out your room because we were afraid that we’d be stuck paying the difference when you left. ”
“You what?” I rush out, louder than I mean to, but what the actual fuck?
I’ve lived with these women for almost a year and a half.
I’ve cut it close with my rent a few times, but I’ve never been late, and I’ve always paid in full.
We haven’t talked at all since I was fired, so why would they take it upon themselves to make this decision?
Was I planning on staying here forever? No.
But I certainly don’t have enough money to move right now.
“Come on, Finley,” Cee chimes in, her dry tone making my skin crawl with unease.
“No good mother would be comfortable raising their baby in a house where people are coming and going all the time. I doubt you want a bunch of strangers around, and you can’t expect us to change our lifestyles just because you went out and got knocked up.
It’s better if you just find somewhere better suited for a newborn. ”
I feel the tips of my ears begin to heat, my stomach roiling at her words. It seems as though they’ve already made their decision, and to make things worse, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
When I moved in, they were already in the middle of a lease agreement.
They told the landlord I was here temporarily to avoid him raising the rent or asking for an additional security deposit.
It all seemed harmless at the time because I’m only here to sleep, shower, and very occasionally bed rot.
I don’t use the gym or other amenities, and I don’t take up a parking space, so I agreed to keep things quiet until it was time to re-sign.
Then, my name would be added, and I would be responsible for any additional fees.
Now, I realize how stupid that was, because they’re well within their rights to kick me out.
“How long do I have?” I ask, defeated. “Can I at least have a couple of weeks to find a new place?” Tears prick at the backs of my eyes, my hand instinctively lifting to my belly as though I could shield the baby from all the uncertainty we’re about to face.
I’m not off to a very good start as a mom, seeing as how there’s a good chance we won’t have anywhere to live soon.
“Our new roommate is actually the girl Blaine hired to replace you. She’s from Columbus, and she’s rented a hotel room until Tuesday, so we need you out by then.
Sorry.” Phoebe almost sounds remorseful, not that it softens the blow.
I have to find a new place, pack all my belongings, and move out in the next six days.
“Fine,” I mutter, no longer hungry. I know I should eat, but how can I when my life is such a dumpster fire?
Standing, I walk to the trash and toss my muffin, then dump my coffee down the sink before placing the mug into the dishwasher.
I don’t say a word or look at either of them as I exit the kitchen, holding my emotions at bay until I’m safely tucked away in my room. Only then do I break down.
Tears stream down my cheeks, and I collapse onto the mattress, silently sobbing for the future my baby deserves, but will likely never experience—two parents who love and respect one another, even though they aren’t in a relationship.
A stable home that provides them with a sense of happiness and safety.
Knowing where they came from and how loved they are.
“Mommy’s sorry, peanut,” I whisper, rubbing soft circles over my growing bump. “I’m going to fix this, I promise.”
I have no idea how, but I’ll die trying.