Chapter Thirty-One
MOLLIE
“H e left? Why?”
Janette and Mick swap looks like they don’t know what to say. “He had club business to get to,” Mick stammers.
Bullshit. The next piece of business he has to go to isn’t for another two days with Matthew. “Why are you lying to me?”
Janette’s face turns down. “Go pay the bill, love,” she says to Mick.
I look down noticing money on the table. He paid for us then took off? What the hell changed in the time I went to the loo?
Mick stands and picks up the cash.
“Sit down,” Janette tells me.
I look at Mick’s back, then outside to where I just watched Travis ride off.
When I look down at Janette, she nods her head at the chair.
I do as I’m bid, holding my bag on my lap, not getting comfy. I want to get out of here. “What happened?”
She sighs. “I think I messed up,” she replies.
“Messed up how?”
She reaches out a hand, waiting for mine.
I look at the gesture, wondering what the fuck she’s doing. A little unsure, I place my hand as best I can in hers, hoping she hurries this up and tells me what happened.
“He knows.” Her fingers feebly squeeze around mine.
I lift my shoulders, dropping my head forward, keeping my eyes on hers. “Knows what?” I’m so bloody confused. I have no idea what the hell she is talking about.
“About the baby,” she says lightly, a subtle flick of her eyes going down .
“Baby?”
“Yes,” she says. “He knows you’re having a baby.”
“Am I?” My eyes widen and my lips part in utter confusion.
Janette suddenly looks like she’s seen a ghost. “You mean, you’re not?”
“Pregnant?”
She nods.
“No, I’m not fucking pregnant. Jesus, Janette, is that what you told him?” Holy shit. I bolt upright. “Is that why he left? Because he thinks I’m pregnant?”
“Yes—”
My head hits my hands. “Janette, do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Mollie, I—”
“Stop!” I grab my bag and open it, snatching my phone. I hit call on Travis’ number. Seeing him ride off, I know he won’t answer, so I leave a voicemail. “Call me back when you get this. It’s not what you think.” The stare I hit Janette with as I drop my phone to the table, makes her shuffle in her chair. “Why did you tell him I was pregnant?” My words come out exhausted. This is the last thing Travis and I need.
Her dainty, twisted hands, reach forward again. This time, I don’t place mine in hers. “Because of the signs?”
“What signs?” I spit.
She lets out a huff. “The way you’re tired all the time. The constant using the loo.” She leans forward. “Tell me, what was wrong with the cup of tea you made me earlier?”
“The milk was off.”
“The milk was fine. I tasted it, remember?”
What? I try to take in everything she’s saying. “Rubbish.” I shake my head looking out the window of the restaurant, crossing my arms. “I’m tired because I work all day at the farm then head to the clubhouse to help out there. I pee because… well… the milk was off.”
She smiles when I look back at her. I sound like an idiot. But pregnant? I can’t be? I’d know before anyone, surely?
“The milk was fine, Mollie.” She raises a condescending brow. “Anyway, your pill.”
“What about it?” I crack .
“It doesn’t always work with antibiotics.”
“The doctor said it should be fine.”
“Okay, but did you take extra precautions?”
“No.”
“And have you thrown up or had diarrhoea?”
“What is this?”
“Answer the question,” she says softly.
I lift my chin, looking away from her. “I may have had a dodgy stomach a while back, yes, but I think my ginger sweets were a bad batch.” I sit up straight, hearing how ridiculous I sound. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
Her smile makes me pause. “It means, sweetheart, there’s a chance you could be carrying Travis’ child.” Wet pools begin to gather in her eyes, nothing but love and hope shining down on me. “You’re going to be parents.”
Constricting my breathing, an icy coil of fear wraps around my throat. My lips part, and with the last breath of air in my lungs, I say, “You’ve never had children. How would you know?” I don’t mean for it to come out in such an evil way. I immediately shake my head, regretting it, wanting to reach out and snatch the words right back. But it’s too late.
Dabbing at the corner of her eye, Janette struggles to swallow. “I may never have carried them into this world, but I’ve had children, Mollie. I know what it feels like to have that life inside of you.”
My body sags, my fingers splaying over my face to hide myself. She’s never had children, but she’s been pregnant, meaning, she’s also miscarried. “I didn’t know.”
“No, you didn’t,” she replies harshly, and rightly so. “So please, don’t you dare sit there and tell me I don’t know what it feels like.”
I can hear her breathing heavily. “I’m sorry.”
Sucking in a breath, she stands from the table. All I can do is peek through the small gap between my fingers. “You should be. Now,” she dusts down her perfectly clean dress, “we’re going to get you a test, and you’re going to take it. And when you do, you’re going to find Travis and the pair of you are going to enjoy what you’ve created. Far too many people don’t get the opportunity you’ve got before you.”
“But— ”
“No buts.” She cuts me off.
Mick walks back to the table, looking between us, reading between the lines. “Should I go grab the car?”
Janette looks down at me. “No need. We’re coming.”
My chair pushes out. Fuck. My hands are sweating. A deafening alarm’s going off in my head. What if I take a test and it’s positive? If it’s negative, nothing changes, it’s a simple misunderstanding. But if it’s not, then… I can’t see it. I can’t see how to handle it, how I would tell him or how he would react. Given how he abandoned me at the mere mention of it, it’s clear Travis isn’t ready to have children any time soon.
And I’m okay with that.
Or, I was. Will he ever be ready? Letting out a sigh, I don’t want to go over this again. It’s too exhausting.
When we make it back home, I drop the bag on the side and kick off my shoes. Janette’s here with me, trailing behind, trying to make sure I’m okay. In all honesty, I’ve been a mess since I purchased the test she made me get at the shop on the way home.
This was never in my plan when I came here. This was never something I had envisioned for myself.
But here I am. Engaged and potentially knocked-up with an outlaw’s baby. I feel my heart pang, and I hate myself for thinking this. I don’t care who he is or what he does. I know he’s what I want and where my future lies. Everything else is irrelevant.
So why isn’t he here? Why hasn’t he answered my calls or my texts? Feeling tears begin to mount, I pull out my phone. It’s ten o’clock. He should be here.
Me: I don’t need anything but you. Come home x
No reply.
“Do you need me to stay?”
I turn around, looking at Janette.
She’s looking around the place, probably hoping Travis was here, like me.
“No, I’ll be fine.”
“Will you call me once you know? ”
I smile, but it’s hard. “I think I’ll wait for Travis.”
She gives a small sigh as she rubs her nose. “Okay. You know where I am if you need me.”
I nod and walk toward her, wrapping my arms around her. I know she’ll appreciate it. “I’ll call in the morning.”
I go to pull away, but she doesn’t let me go. “We love you.”
I sink into her hold. “I love you too.”
Watching her leave, I then make myself a tea and sit down at the breakfast bar. The bag stares at me, taunting me to open it. Sipping my tea, the same twang of disgust makes me recoil, forcing me to hold the mug out like it’s going to explode. I put it down and get out of my seat, quickly pacing to the fridge and opening the door, grabbing the milk and reading the label. The very in date label. Shit.
One more glance at the bag, and I know I have to take the test. The test that could change everything, or make everything okay.
Snatching it off the counter, I walk to the bathroom and take the stick from the box. I haven’t done one of these before. I quickly read what I have to do and pee on the stick, leaving it on the side as I wait. Wondering.
Three minutes pass slower than having to watch paint dry. I picture Travis holding a baby in his arms. A life where we have a family. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to think it because it’s not what he wants, yet, it’s the easiest thing I could have imagined. It’s the clearest image I could have seen. If I wasn’t sitting here waiting to see if I’m pregnant with his child, it wouldn’t bother me not having it. But peeking a look at the stick, I know if this comes back positive, that reality will be one he never wanted. Living with it will be difficult. Impossible?
Will he expect me to get rid of it? Will he tell me it’s him or a baby? I’ve seen him on some pretty dark days, but I don’t believe he’d be capable of asking me to do something like that. I hope not, anyway.
Hearing the front door gently close, I quickly stand and rush to see if it’s him. It is. He’s back. His head’s hung low; an invisible weight sat on his shoulders. “Where’ve you been?” No doubt he’s been riding.
“Needed to clear my head.”
Relief envelopes me that he hasn’t been drinking. I can tell by the way he pulls off his cap and throws his cut on the hook that he’s sober. Walking to me, his hand places on my hip as he dips and rests his lips against my head. Then he walks past me and into the bathroom.
Rooted to the spot, I’m not sure if it’s good or bad that he didn’t say any more. That he didn’t pull me into his arms and apologise for leaving the way that he did.
There’s a bang from behind, a crashing of the door being flung open a few moments later. “What’s this?”
I swivel on my heels, noting the white stick in his hand. Shit. I swallow. “It’s a pregnancy test.”
He looks down at it. “You’re pregnant?”
“What?” Treading closer, I come to a stop before him. Has he looked? Does he know?
He steadily turns the stick so I can see, his eyes focused on me, waiting to see my reaction.
My breath escapes. My hand flies to my head. There’s no denying it. The instructions said two lines indicate I’m pregnant. My bottom lip shakes as I take another step closer to him, taking the stick from his hold. “I don’t know how this happened.”
Stood over me, Travis bends and kisses my head, his hand on the back of my neck. I’m just about to turn into him, but I hear him sigh, his heavy breath hitting me like a tonne of bricks. “I can’t have this baby, Mollie.”
I stare down at my hand. If there was anything you’d want the man you love to say when you find out you’re pregnant with his child, it’s not that. I give a light shake of my head, unsure of what I’m supposed to say. I knew his reaction could go either way, but to hear it with my own ears… my insides knot with an unknown sadness. “I,” I choke on my words.
“You don’t have to lie to me. I know.”
Know what? Time freezes. I swear a pin could drop and you’d hear it. Gritting my teeth together, I ignore the mistiness in my eyes. “You think I lied about knowing I was pregnant?”
His hand on my neck twitches when I look at him. “I think you knew.”
I step back from his hold. “You’re not serious?” I say harshly. My skin suddenly turns hot, my cheeks undoubtedly turning red as anger begins to swell.
The last thing I thought he’d do is smile at me. “Of course you knew, baby. After all, everyone knows antibiotics mess with your pill.”
He’s reciting what Janette said to me earlier. My shoulders slump. “That’s what made you take off from the restaurant? What Janette said. Travis, you were sat in with me when the doctor told me to my face that it should be okay.”
“But it isn’t, is it.”
“So this is all my fault?”
His eyes narrow, his face turning hard. “She said she knew you were pregnant. How can she know and you didn’t?”
“I didn’t know!” I yell. “I just took this,” I hold it up, “you were the first one to find out just now.”
His lips roll. He doesn’t believe me.
Casting a look to one side, I take a deep breath, dropping my hand. “If you’re about to stand there and tell me you think I lied about knowing, then you don’t know me at all.”
I look back at him and see him thinking, his eyes looking through me. “I know you’re good at deceiving people.” His tone is so flat, it hurts more than anything he’s ever said to me.
Wanting to speak, I wait until the tears that are threatening to fill my eyes stop stinging. I won’t let them fall. Refuse to. I can’t let him hurt me. Not like this. Not about this. This is his fear being projected onto me. This isn’t my fault. “I can’t believe you just said that. If I have ever deceived anybody, it’s because you asked me to. For the club,” I remind him.
His jaw ticks. “Mollie, you can’t be pregnant. You told me you didn’t want it.” Running a hand through his hair, he looks away, and I do too. “It was a mistake,” he sighs.
“What was?” Our relationship? My head snaps his way. Is he saying we were a mistake?
“Telling you that one day I might consider it.”
I recoil. This cruelness is new. “So, you think I heard that and saw an opportunity to do what, trap you?” The look on his face tells me that’s exactly what he thought, or at the very least, he considered it. “You bastard,” I whisper, walking away.
Getting into the lounge, my head spins too fast to keep up with. I feel like I’m going to pass out. Resting my elbows on the counter, I take my head in my hands, nausea now swimming through my blood. This can’t be happening. It’s not meant to be like this. Everything is becoming blurred, every decision I’ve made, every step, every turn, it all blends into one giant lump that I can’t make sense of.
When I look up, Travis has followed me. He’s now standing at the other end of the breakfast bar. He tilts his head to one side, his face expressionless. “Tell me you didn’t suggest wanting to get away because you knew you were carrying it.”
It. The word makes my hackles rise, anger pouring through me. “I suggested running away as a joke because of everything going on with my dad. And because all I needed was you.”
He huffs. “And now?”
I scrunch my face. “And now we have things we need to talk about.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There’s plenty, Travis.” I stand straight. “You just accused me of trapping you and called our baby it.”
He steps around the breakfast bar toward me. “It’s not a fucking baby yet.” His voice is grave.
I scan his face. Angry lines stretch from one side to the other. “You really have got some fucking nerve.”
His eyes darken. The lines deepen.
I don’t care. “I mean it. Fuck you. Fuck you for making me feel like this is my fault.”
“You want me to believe it’s just a coincidence the place you want to run away to is that of your dream, the one with the kid?”
My jaw drops. “Are you serious?” I can’t believe that he remembered that, let alone is using it against me. It was a dream, nothing I can do about it. Disbelief fills me as I stare at him, no longer recognising the man standing before me.
“You’re not denying it,” he says darkly, holding out his hands. “And what about the night at the clubhouse. You had Rocco clear the place out—”
The crack of my palm on his face rings out around us. He doesn’t even flinch, but I watch his face twist as I inhale and exhale in double time. How can he think that that night was a setup, a ploy for him to get me pregnant. “Arsehole.”
The burning flames licking my palm are instant, and I turn, no longer wanting to be anywhere near him. I don’t know what to do or what to say. How can he be so vicious? How can he be so cruel as to put this all on me? All I have done is love him, given him everything I have and for what? To be blamed for getting pregnant? No, fuck that. This isn’t all on me.
Grabbing a bag from our room, I chuck it on the bed. I swing open the wardrobe door, ripping at his things and throwing them behind me.
“What are you doing?”
I don’t look up as I begin stuffing his clothes in the bag. “Isn’t it obvious?” I say enraged.
“You’re not leaving until I know what you’re going to do.”
Going to do? Lifting my head, I look at him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Cold eyes find mine as I carry on haphazardly packing. “And you think I am?”
“I think I need you as far away from me as possible. You’re a bastard for blaming me.” I roughly try shoving down the jumper that’s refusing to fit in the bag.
“That right?”
I grit my teeth. “I think you’re so scared at the idea of being a dad that you’re blaming everyone else instead of being a man and owning it. And what’s worse, is you’re now going to get something you don’t fucking deserve!” I tear the jumper from the bag and launch it in frustration at him, making no difference to his posture or the way he’s looking at me. “Me and this baby should mean everything to you.” My breath is running wild, the pain corrosive as he gives me a once over, visibly grimacing at the word baby.
“I knew this would happen.”
“What? What did you know?” I angrily snap my spine straight, my hands wildly going out to my side.
“You’ve known you’re pregnant for five minutes, yet you’re already putting it first,” he says, insulting me again by calling the baby it . Stumping me in the worst way possible, it becomes blindingly apparent that he’s never going to be okay with this.
“You need to go.” I don’t want to be with a man who can hurt me the way he is now.
“This is my house.”
Mine. Not ours. Another crippling ache. “Fine. I’ll go.”
The picture above our bed catches my eye as I go to turn, sparking a fresh stab of pain. Not thinking straight, I quickly look around the room seeing the lamp and grabbing it, hurtling it at the glass frame with everything I’ve got.
The picture smashes like my heart, and I let out an uncontrollable sob, watching as it shatters and breaks, hitting the bed. “Come hell or high water, the only family that will need you is the one you’re not man enough to look after.” I hit his ego, turning and exiting the room, swiping at my eyes.
He’s behind me in an instant as I knew he would be, hard hands grabbing me and spinning me around. He pushes his face to mine as my back bows, wanting distance from the man who holds my heart so carelessly when he’s this scared. “I was man enough to tell you from the start that having kids was something I didn’t want.”
“And I told you I was okay with that. But this is happening, Travis, and there is nothing we can do about it now.”
“Yes there is,” he growls, giving my shoulders a squeeze. “You know there fucking is, you’re just being selfish.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. This isn’t what I want.”
More sobs leave me, and I hate the way I can see it hurts him, but he does nothing to make it right. “And what about what I want?” I don’t want to get rid of his baby. “This baby will be a part of you and a part of me. This is us . Ours. We can’t throw that away.”
Call me crazy, but since the moment Janette mentioned me being pregnant, I knew if I was, I would keep the life inside me. Not one flicker of doubt crossed my mind as to what I was going to do. I can’t ignore that. I won’t go against what I know and what I feel deep inside. Mother nature. Maternal instinct. Call it what you want, I know to abort this baby would be the worst thing we could do.
I won’t do it.
Not even for the man before me. The man blinded by fear.
He swallows and his brows snap together. “My love for you isn’t enough?”
I blink, knowing my truth is going to hurt, but what other choice do I have? “It was.”
He sighs, and a tear drips from my eye, hitting my cheek. I can see where this is headed. I don’t understand how we got here, but there is no way out of this now. Not unless he’s capable of seeing what’s right in front of him. “I didn’t trap you, Travis. I was willing to not have children, for you , because I knew it wouldn’t make you happy. As much as that breaks my heart, it was a sacrifice I was prepared to make.”
His hands drop from my shoulders, a coldness immediately wrapping itself around me. Travis looks like a broken man. A man shocked. Still. Numb.
“I’m not willing to make that sacrifice anymore.”
With fire in his eyes, he grabs me, pressing himself to me, making me feel every solid inch of him. He holds my head, fixing me to the spot, pressing his warm lips to mine harshly. There’s passion, but not like I’m used to. His body vibrates, his eyes are jammed shut. I know, can just feel the tension skimming off the surface, that everything about this is wrong.
When he pulls away, his hands still either side of my face, his breath is pained, his eyes are wet. He’s hurting. “I told you not to waste another second of your time with me, that I would hurt you when my love for you was no longer enough.”
I swallow and catch my breath, my hands quickly lifting to his arms, my fingers curling into his skin so that he feels me.
“I guess that day came sooner than either of us planned.” He let’s go and pushes past me, the sudden emptiness like a black hole swallowing me into the abyss. There’s no way out. No light. Nothing but pain and sadness dragging me down.
I turn as he makes it to the front door, his hand raised to the handle. “What are you saying?” I need him to stay. He can’t leave like this. Even if we argue, staying is better. He’d be here with me. With us.
One hand drags down his face. “I don’t want this anymore,” he says, his words drowning in pain. “If you love me, you wouldn’t have this baby with me. I’m not a good enough man to be given the responsibility of raising a child, Mollie.” My lips part to say something but he doesn’t let me as he raises a hand, forcing me to stop. “Don’t say that I am, please, just fucking don’t.” He looks up. “I’ll never change because I don’t fucking want to. All I want is you. Unless you can give that to me, then we’re done.”
My feet fall back as I stagger. I never expected those words from him. I never envisioned what we have ending like it is now. Heavy. Hot. Raw. It’s agonising the way his words are slicing through me. My heart quickens, my eyes fill and flood with my tears. I want to reach out and grab him. I want to run into his arms and tell him what he wants to hear; that I will give him what he wants; which is for it to always be just me and him.
But I can’t. Because, giving him what he wants means giving up a life we created. We may not have intended it, but we still made it. And no matter how scared he is, or how worried he feels, I can’t help but despise his inability to see how selfish he’s being.
My feet don’t move. Confusion blazes across my face. I never thought he would give me an ultimatum. Even though I can see his sadness, it’s our chaos that’s tearing us in two. The tears roll like sorrowful rivers down my face, and it takes every morsel of restraint I have to not go to him. “Don’t make me choose between the life inside me and you. That’s not fair.”
With a sigh, he looks at me like it physically hurts him to move. Still, the door clicks open, and my heart all but stops. “Then I’ll make this easy for you.”
With the closing of the door, my resolve shatters. I collapse to the floor, my arms wrapping around my body.
He’s gone.