Chapter 29
Chapter twenty-nine
There Goes My Life
Cheyenne
Iwoke up to rays of sunlight streaming in through the window in Maverick’s bedroom. My head spun, and my tongue felt like it had been glued to roof of my mouth. I needed water and some ibuprofen.
We’d gone out last night celebrating our wins. Maverick and Cash snagged first in team roping. Cash had gotten Reserve Champion in bareback bronc riding, and Ryder had gotten another first in bull riding. I’d drank way too much. Especially, considering we’d be drinking today for the Fourth.
The smell of food let me know Maverick was already getting things ready for that.
What time was it, even? I wiped the sleep from my eyes and grabbed my phone off the charger.
9 AM. Of course, he’d let me sleep in. I’m sure all the chores were done.
He’d probably cleaned the house, and gotten at least half the dishes ready for today.
I smiled at that. Perfect man.
A wave of desire sparked to life, trying to push away the nausea cloying for dominance in my body.
Maybe a shower would help. I walked into the bathroom and froze.
Sitting right there on the counter was a box of pregnancy tests.
A frown tugged on my mouth. Why were there pregnancy tests on the countertop?
Better yet, why would Maverick put them there?
You’re really askin’ that? The little voice of reason whispered in my mind.
I thought of the past week. The couple of vomiting episodes. The headaches. The dizziness. The fact that my damn show jeans were tight as hell trying to put them on this past weekend.
Knots formed in my stomach, accompanied by an overwhelming wave of nausea.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
No. No, I couldn’t be pregnant. There were about a hundred different reasons for all that.
Pregnancy symptoms and period symptoms were almost identical.
I blew out a breath and ignored the pregnancy tests, grabbing for my toothbrush out of the vanity, the boxes all but mocking me in the corner of my eye.
The taste of mint in my mouth brought on another wave of nausea and a growl escaped me.
“God damn it,” I groaned, spitting the toothpaste out and reaching for the box.
What could taking a test hurt? Better to be safe than sorry, right?
My hands trembled as I opened the box and tore open the sealed test. It was one of those fancy ones that would say ‘pregnant’ or ‘not pregnant’. Dear God, I hoped like hell it said the latter.
It didn’t even take the full two minutes like it stated on the box. Nope. Ten. Fucking. Seconds.
One little word appeared on that small screen and then the whole world shifted beneath my feet.
My heart lodged in my throat, my stomach clenching so tightly I actually wished I could throw up just to relieve the pressure.
I took in a deep breath. Well, tried. It’s like my lungs didn’t work anymore.
It reminded me of the fire, when no matter how hard I tried to get in a deep breath I just couldn’t.
My legs buckled and I curled my knees up to my chest, trying and failing to control my breathing.
Fuck... Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
How? How the hell could I be pregnant?
You know how.
I’d always been horrible at remembering to take my birth control pills, but I’d also always been so irregular that it made me forget about my time of the month completely until it decided to rear its ugly head when I was least expecting it.
I’d gone so many months without a period that I’d honestly stopped thinking getting pregnant was even a possibility.
But that would mean… Oh God. Nate would be the father. Which, what a fucking shame.
My vision tunneled, my breaths becoming shallow, labored. I buried my face in my hands, only then realizing my cheeks were wet with tears. Oh my God. What the hell was I going to do? How far along was I?
I pulled my phone out of my back pocket, blinking away the tears in my eyes as I tried to focus on my screen.
I fumbled my way through the pages of apps, trying and failing at least a couple times to click on the period tracker I hardly ever even needed to use. My heart raced as I tracked the weeks.
A broken sob escaped me.
Ten. Ten damn weeks.
I was ten weeks pregnant and didn’t even have a clue. Probably still wouldn’t have had it not been from Maverick. Speaking of—a knock sounded on the door, his deep voice accompanying it. “You okay, Chey?”
I sniffled, trying and failing to get ahold of myself as I choked out, “N-no.”
The handle turned a moment later, Maverick’s tall frame taking up the doorway. His gaze landed on me, wide-eyed and filled with worry.
“H-how?” I bit back another sob, my bottom lip trembling as I tried to keep it together enough to finish my sentence. “H-how did y-you know?”
He knelt down and picked me up like I weighed nothing more than a feather before leading me out of the bathroom and onto the private back porch.
He sat in the rocking swing, holding me in his arms as we swayed back and forth.
He was so quiet for so long I thought he might not have heard me, but when I opened my mouth to finally respond he managed to speak.
“You’ve been complainin’ of headaches from the first day you got here…
and you’ve gotten sick a few times.” He didn’t look at me as he spoke, but out toward the little pond where a couple ducks swam around.
“I’ve seen you gag at least three times this week from different smells.
And well, I don’t know, maybe it’s cuz Charlie’s pregnant too. It just seemed logical.”
“Well, you were right.” I huffed, shaking my head in disbelief.
I couldn’t believe that he’d been able to tell before me.
I was the one pregnant. How could I have not seen the signs?
How could I have been that blind to it? But the symptoms had been mild, and I didn’t even really know what to expect.
I hadn’t had any reason to really be looking for signs in the first place.
My eyes blurred with tears once more as sob after sob wracked me.
I was pregnant. With a capital fucking P.
Maverick cupped my face in his big hands, his callouses scraping against my skin as he wiped my tears away and forced me to meet his gaze. “What’re ya gonna do?”
I chewed on my bottom lip, lifting my shoulders up into a weak shrug.
“I…I don’t know,” I murmured. “I–I really have no business raisin’ a kid.
I mean, hell, I didn’t even know I was pregnant until you pointed it out.
” I slipped off of his lap, the overwhelming urge to move, to walk, to… something taking over.
Walking to the end of the porch, I leaned against the wooden column, aware of Maverick’s stare. How the hell had I wound up in this situation? Pregnant with some other guy’s baby while living and sleeping with Maverick.
I wondered what he thought of me. He probably thought I was a whore, and what was worse, is I couldn’t even blame him.
My heart hurt.
What all was going to change now? Would he kick me out? End things completely?
No, Maverick wouldn’t do that. He wasn’t an asshole. He was too kind to do something like that. But I couldn’t imagine this boded well for us as a…well, whatever the hell we were.
My bottom lip trembled as my eyes fluttered closed, a loud exhale escaping me as I tried to get a hold of myself. Fresh tears leaked down my face, but I didn’t have the strength to wipe them away.
Unable to ignore the weight of his stare any longer, I turned slowly to face him. My words were hushed, broken, small as I spoke. “I can’t be a mom… I’m—I’m not ready. I have no home, no job. I’m a hot fucking mess, Mav. I just…I can barely even take care of myself.”
Maverick stopped swinging, planting his feet firmly on the ground while placing his elbows onto the tops of his thighs.
He rubbed his palms back and forth—the only sound for a moment.
His silence was killing me. Considering we’d gone basically a week without talking but still being able to communicate, he was more closed off than ever.
The look on his face, in his eyes, gave nothing away.
“You gotta do what you gotta do.”
I frowned. “I don’t know what to do.”
He stood up, his boots scuffing against the wooden deck as he came to stand before me. “If you’re lookin’ for me to tell you what to do, I can’t do that for ya. This is somethin’ you gotta decide for yourself.”
A weight settled on my chest, so heavy I felt like I was drowning. “Will you think less of me if I…” I swallowed, nausea slamming into me at the thought of my next words. I blew out a breath, more tears falling from my eyes. “If I get rid of it?”
Something flickered in Maverick’s stare.
Not anger, or judgment, or anything like that, but something sad, wistful.
He cupped my cheeks and wiped the tears away gently, his deep voice soft and smooth as he spoke.
“Who the hell am I to judge you for what you decide to do with your body? It ain’t my place.
For the record, though, I think you’d be a great mom. ”
A sob escaped me, my knees all but buckling under the weight of his kind words. They just made me feel worse. Worse, because I didn’t agree and I didn’t really think I wanted to take the risk in finding out.
Maverick was there to catch me. As always. Funny how in less than a week, I’d become entirely too dependent on him picking up the broken pieces of my soul. I was too selfish to stop him right now, though. Maybe I’d always be.
“The dad…” Maverick asked, “Is it the guy you told me about? The one you chased off with a cattle prod?”
I nodded.
“You gonna tell him before you make a decision?”
I blew out a shaky breath. “I wasn’t plannin’ on it. Especially since I’m not plannin’ on k-keepin’ it.”
Saying the words aloud seemed even more awful than when they’d formed in my mind. But I couldn’t have a baby. Maverick may be right. Maybe I could be a good mom, but not right now. I just… This wasn’t how I wanted to bring a new life into the world.
It didn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at me, though.
Maverick nodded, running a hand back into my hair as he cupped my head. “Tell him. Even if you ain’t plannin’ on keepin’ it, you should still tell him. I’d wanna know if I were in his position.”
“Even if he’s a piece of shit?” I sniffled.
He nodded, that same emotion swirling in his eyes that I couldn’t quite pin down. I pursed my lips, patting my back pocket for my phone only to remember it was still in the bathroom. “I’ll go call him.”
He dipped his head once more, his lips parting like he wanted to say something before closing. He blew out a breath and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be right here.”