Chapter 17 The Addams Family
THE ADDAMS FAMILY
Summer
Thanks to Daisy’s rambling call, peppered with her apologies, I actually knew what Thaddeus was ranting about. That’s what made me do something I never imagined. “Why don’t you come in so we can talk?”
He stormed in. The last time he was here . . . I shook my head and studied his face. Was he here to kill me? His face reminded me of that night.
“What’s your plan?” I kept my voice even and loosened my trembling fists. Both of us getting worked up was no use.
Thaddeus unbuttoned his jacket and squinted at me. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you learned something you didn’t like. You’re furious and came all the way over here. Is it to get revenge like last time? Am I going to die?”
His mouth opened slightly, eyes opened wide. I watched his hand shake. “You’re really asking me that?”
“Why not? You’ve done it before, and I know you don’t believe in forgiveness—”
Before I finished speaking, Thad slumped his body into a nearby chair and lowered his head into his hands. “So, this was your revenge. An innocent baby?”
I couldn’t do this any longer. Fury pulsed through me at the thought of him believing I was capable of taking out my dislike of him on our unborn child. “Was it Brit who told you—”
“Why does it matter who told me? It seems you never planned to say anything . . .” Thaddeus cut in, then froze. “Unless you wanted to hold this information and drop it on me when you knew it would inflict the most pain.”
That was what we’d really come to. I sat across from him and spoke, eager to clear up at least one misunderstanding. “I’m pregnant. Brit saw me at the doctor, but whatever she thinks I did there is wrong.”
“You’re pregnant?” His shoulders slumped as if a weight had been lifted off him, and his eyes filled with . . . hope?
“Yes. A baby is coming into this messy existence between us. It’s yours. I didn’t—”
Silence thickened in the air around us. We just stared at each other for a while, and you could hear a pin drop in the room.
Finally, Thad sighed. “I drove here angry because I thought you’d taken away my chance of being a father, and now I’m terrified.”
“How do you think I feel?” I admitted. Thad listened as I went on. “I’m pregnant by a man who I vowed to hate forever. A man who . . . who just happens to be engaged—”
“That’s not going to happen. I already ended that. I’ll make an announcement ASAP.”
My heart quickened. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
We looked at one another, unable to tear our eyes away from the other. So many unspoken, unsaid things passing between us.
Awkwardly, I picked lint from my sweater. I needed something to do with my hands.
Thad stared at the wall.
Thaddeus
I sank onto the edge of her couch, the cushions too soft beneath me, like the floor had given way and I was still falling.
The last forty minutes had been a blur. Pregnant.
Dead. Mine. Alive. Earlier, I walked in here ready to verbally shred Summer to pieces, fueled by pure rage, thinking she’d gone and erased something I hadn’t even known existed.
Then, she hit me with the fact she hadn’t.
I was going to be a father. The ground shifted so fast I could barely keep up, each new truth slamming into me harder than the last. And now, here I was, sitting in the house I’d been dragged from in handcuffs, with a woman I’d spent years swearing I’d never trust, never forgive, never want.
But none of that mattered now, not in the way it used to.
Because whatever we were, whatever we still are, we were about to be something else too.
Parents. And no amount of bad blood could change the fact that this kid was mine.
I reached for her hand without thinking, my fingers curling around hers like they knew what to do even if the rest of me didn’t.
My gaze dropped to her belly. It didn’t even look different yet, not really, but the knowledge of what was growing there hit me like a truck.
I stared at it, frozen. That was mine. There was a life in there.
And then something cracked open inside of me, sharp and panicked.
What the hell was I doing here? What sort of father would I be?
I wasn’t fit to be anyone’s role model. What if I ruined this kid the way I ruined everything else?
What if I couldn’t do this? The weight of it all pressed against my chest, and for a split second, I wanted to go back to that night when I threw the party.
But I looked at Summer and saw a mirror; she was scared too, no more prepared to share a baby with someone you called your enemy for years.
Summer
The clock ticked, and outside I heard cars driving past.
Neither of us spoke.
In the silence, it struck me that he’d driven to my house to protect our child. I thought of him trying desperately to find Wylie, that protective side of him I used to love but thought had vanished.
Most men would avoid accountability. Honestly, I wasn’t certain what to expect from him. Thaddeus hated me and could, by extension, hate any child of mine (even if they were half his).
The way he looked at me when he realized I was still pregnant was with a tenderness that shook me to my core. He really still has a heart. How had I missed that for so long?
As the quiet stretched between us, I shuffled in my seat, but Thaddeus didn’t move.
“Let’s get out of the house,” he suggested. “Go for a walk or something?”
I nodded.
I eyed how nervously he moved around the room.
I noted the tension in his jaw, the million emotions that seemed to play across his face.
Fear, concern, a flicker of intrigue. Maybe memories of that horrible night haunted him like they did me.
Grabbing my keys, I followed. Outside, I looked over at Henry and Ashley’s house, a clear example of what happened when two people tried to parent when they shouldn’t.
“For the sake of the baby, let’s do a better job of sharing than they did,” he said, clearly reading my mind.
Some might say sharing their bodies with others was what got them into that mess.
I didn’t say that. Instead, I sighed and waited for the right words to come to mind.
We walked down the street in silence until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I don’t want to get married,” I reassured him, assuming this would be the last thing he wanted.
Thad nodded but said nothing. I felt the air shift, a coldness coming off him. I’m probably just overthinking it, I thought, shaking my head. I brushed it off as being the usual chill that swept through the streets this time of day.
“I was going to tell you today,” I added as we waited at the corner for a few cars to pass.
Finally, on the other side of the street and walking down the hill, Thad spoke. “What you and I want shouldn’t outweigh what the baby needs.”
Now it was my turn to nod.
“The baby will inherit the Fitzgerald legacy. You can hate us, but I can’t have my child missing out on his or her inheritance.”
His tone gave me whiplash. Why the hell did he think I’d purposely make my baby be born into poverty when the option of wealth was right there?
“Okay.” I copied his delivery; emotionless and factual.
Like what our arrangement was unraveling to be.
Terms that bound us for the well-being of our child.
Good, my baby deserves a father who is willing to plan for their future.
Considering we weren’t on track to become best buddies, this was the safest route for us. Clear, cold terms. I should’ve been happy he’d offered this for our child, and yet, an empty sensation burrowed into me, like this wasn’t quite the turnout I was expecting.
“For the baby to inherit smoothly, we need to get married.”
My body stiffened. The suggestion was a sharp turn from our current relationship, and he’d brought it up in the same way in which he’d discuss a business deal. Of course, it wouldn’t be any other way. Why would it? This was strictly business to him.
Memories of when he’d proposed with roses, chocolates, a beautiful diamond ring, and a five-course dinner spun in my mind.
People would say his gestures were over the top, but he’d done it with a sparkling smile on his face.
I’d felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
My stomach was full of butterflies, and the future ahead looked rosy.
Fast forward to the present, and there were no butterflies. No fuzziness building in my chest, nor heat prickling my cheeks.
I just felt numb. It was the same offer, only watered down. I could be Mrs. Fitzgerald for contractual purposes.
As I processed his words, I felt him gazing at me. “Well, what do you say?” His expression was unreadable. I guessed this was just standard negotiating for him.
“We hate each other.” I pouted.
Thaddeus let out an unexpected chuckle. “Summer, be serious. I don’t hate you. I did, for a long time. What you did back then, I resented. I hated your father, and I always will, but not you. Not anymore.”
My heart sank. His words hadn’t made things any better.
“You’re not sorry. Not one bit about what you did to Dad, are you?”
He looked away, and his jaw tightened. “I won’t lie and pretend I am.”
The knot tightened in my stomach. “That’s the problem. Don’t you see that’s why we can’t move past this?”
“Would you like me to lie and claim to be sorry?”
“No.” I wanted him to actually be sorry.
“Good, because I can’t do that.” We walked down the hill, side by side.
Throughout different stages of my life, I’d walked this hill. Often, I’d run. Not because I enjoyed running, but because the angle was so steep. With my new passenger on board, the thought of falling scared me. Thaddeus slipped his hand into mine, seemingly reading my mind.