Chapter 43
KYLIE
Both of my sisters had given up their pressure campaign for me to call the baby’s father.
To Kelsey, Luc didn’t have a name. Luc was no more than a one-night stand, but I don’t think she suspected he was the father.
Or if she did, she kept it to herself when I refused to give her any details.
Kendra knew, and while she disapproved, she’d become more reserved in sharing her opinions about our lives.
Quiet support. I appreciated that more than she’d ever know.
My parents had cried the night I told them. Kelsey had already pushed them into being grandparents earlier than any of us had planned, but they loved Crew and would love my baby, too.
Even though Kelsey’s financial situation today far surpassed anything that my family knew, my financial situation was much more stable than hers when Crew was born.
Lily had told me I could stay in the apartment with the baby, but it wasn’t fair to her to have to deal with the crying of an infant. As a single woman, she should have freedom and not worry about whether her guests would interrupt my baby.
Her fury at Luc was unsurpassed. Where before she had only been cautious, she now hated him.
“Has he even checked in on you?”
“Lil, it’s good to have a clean break. Staying friends would have made it hurt worse.”
“I can’t believe he doesn’t want anything to do with his baby.”
“Lily, he doesn’t know.”
She gave me a stern look. “You didn’t tell him?”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m blocked.”
“Oh, please, Kylie. We were born with cell phones in our hands. You can’t expect me to believe that you don’t know a way around being blocked? I mean, my phone isn’t blocked.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I wanted to see if he would reach out on his own.”
The tears fell, and I cried. I still cry daily, far better than the hourly crying jags I experienced when Luc first left.
My therapist had explained that it was grief. Grief wasn’t only when people died. The grief we felt when people we loved left our lives by choice was sometimes even worse than when they died. I couldn’t imagine ever getting to the point where I accepted what had happened.
I checked myself out in the mirror. At 12 weeks pregnant, there wasn’t much of a baby bump, and I had yet to feel the baby move—all normal, according to the baby books.
Morning sickness didn’t plague my first trimester; I only experienced a few bouts of nausea when I smelled something I didn’t like.
The worst symptom was exhaustion, and while being able to sleep had been a welcome relief, vivid dreams always brought Luc to me, and along with that, an almost crippling sadness.
My dream the night before had me arriving at his house, but it was mine.
A toddler sat in a highchair and smashed bright orange mashed food into the tray.
Another small child bounced a ball off the wall, and Luc stood in the middle of the chaos, beaming.
When I woke, I tried to fall back to sleep and immerse myself in that version of life again.
Later that afternoon, I woke from a nap and found a missed call from Luc. He’d left a message, but when I listened, it was only a brief silence before he disconnected the phone.
Kelsey had already mentioned that the team would be back in town in a few days, preparing for their home opener.
With their return, the chance that I would run into Luc increased.
While I had always loved that we lived so close to one another, living in the same neighborhood might make it hard to avoid him.
My heart dropped at the thought of him seeing me pregnant with his child and turning his back on us. And maybe that’s why I didn’t call him. Easier on my heart to assume the rejection than to have it confirmed.
Kelsey: I’ve got tickets for the entire family for the home opener.
Fuck. There was no way around it. I thought back to the first game I went to with Kelsey. I managed to avoid Luc then, so I could do the same for this game too.
Me: Is Kenny going to sit with us?
Kelsey: She’ll probably be in the corporate box, but she’ll come down at some point.
Me: Ok. Let me know where and when, and I’ll meet you.
Deep breaths. Practicing the tools I learned in therapy, I prepared myself for the reality that I would see Luc at the game on Tuesday afternoon.
Days after I found out I was pregnant, I went to my first prenatal appointment.
I filled out the paperwork, leaving the father’s family history blank, and listed my mother as my emergency contact.
When they offered an ultrasound, I watched the screen and stared at the bean there, wondering how something so small had already turned my life upside-down.
When Luc’s number appeared on my phone, I wanted to send the call to voicemail—to block him. I couldn’t. But I also couldn’t get a single word out when I answered the phone. I sat in silence.
“Ky—”
His voice shook, and was it pain? What did I hear when he said my name?
“Hi.”
“Are you okay?”
Did he know? Had Kelsey said something when she was in Florida?
A bitter laugh tore out of me. “I’ve been better. But I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry, Ky. So fucking sorry.”
“Luc, I’m going to need you to be very specific about what you’re apologizing for—”
“All of it. I’m sorry I left without an explanation. I’m sorry, but I never explained why I had to leave. And yes, Kelsey mentioned your pregnancy, and while it kills me that you moved on, it hurts even worse that you’re doing this on your own.”
Wait. What had he said?
“Luc, can you repeat what you said?”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, about my moving on. Why do you think I moved on?”
“Because you’re pregnant.”
“Luc, why would that mean I’ve moved on?”
“I can’t have kids.”
“And you’re sure about that?” I asked. And then the realization hit me. When the condom broke, he hadn’t been nervous.
“Oh, fuck!”
Something crashed in the background.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Aside from the fact that you fucking blocked me, you made it clear you didn’t want children.”
“No, Kylie. I never said I didn’t want children. I desperately wanted a family, and the only reason I left you was because I didn’t want you to have the same fate as me.”
“I can’t do this right now.”
“Wait, Ky. Don’t hang up.”
His voice shook, and I waited for him to say something.
“You’re positive? There’s no doubt, no chance this isn’t mine?”
I might have cried during this conversation a couple of weeks ago, but today I couldn’t manage a single tear.
“It’s yours, Luc.”
A tortured cry ripped out of him, and I ended the call.