21. Ava
Ava
I’m sitting on the couch in my tiny apartment, staring at the wall and contemplating my life choices. There’s a lot to contemplate.
My job.
My baby.
My future.
I groan and press my hand to my belly. I really want a drink right now.
But I can’t.
I’m not sure what I really expected from Nick. I certainly didn’t expect him to be happy about things, but his response was just a little … much.
Or not enough.
I don’t know what I’m doing.
It’s a Friday night, and I’m sitting alone in my dark apartment.
I grab my phone and pull up the pizza place’s number. My stomach growls, but I’m not sure if it’s hunger or the baby making its presence known. I tried to eat lunch, but it just wasn’t happening. Sitting here, I’m suddenly very hungry. Who cares that it’s close to midnight?
I order my usual—pepperoni with extra cheese—and close the app, tossing my phone onto the couch beside me.
It buzzes almost instantly.
I glance at the screen, expecting it to be the pizza place confirming my order. Instead, it’s a number I don’t recognize. My heart skips a beat before I even read the message.
You know you can’t hide from me, Ava.
The blood drains from my face. My fingers tremble as I type out a response. Who is this?
The reply comes immediately. Who do you think?
I delete the messages and block the number, but it doesn’t matter. I know who it is. Ethan. He’s found me again.
I keep blocking numbers, and he keeps buying new phones.
I throw my phone across the room, pressing my palms against my temples. I can’t deal with this right now. Not on top of everything else. I’m supposed to be figuring out how to tell my family about the baby, how to navigate this mess with Nick, and now this?
I feel like I’m suffocating.
The doorbell rings, and I jump, my heart racing. There’s no way the pizza is here already.
I have no doubt in my mind Ethan knows where I live. He’s just that sneaky and smarmy. He is everywhere all the time.
The person starts knocking, as if I didn’t hear the doorbell.
I get up and tiptoe into the kitchen. I pull a frying pan that is less than lethal and go to the door. I peek through the peephole, relieved to see it’s Nick.
Well, relief is a strong word. I’m relieved it’s not Ethan. That doesn’t mean I’m happy to see him.
“Ava, please,” he says.
I roll my eyes and jerk open the door. He’s standing there, his hands in his pockets, his expression a mix of guilt and desperation. His hair is sloppy, and he’s wearing sweats.
Nick never leaves the house looking so disheveled.
“Ava,” he says, his voice rough. “Can we talk?”
“You’ve said plenty.”
“Ava, don’t. We need to talk.”
I sigh, lacking the energy to argue. “I’m hungry, cranky, and tired and really not in the mood. Are you sure you want to do this right now?”
“Yes.”
I step aside to let him in. He walks into the living room, his eyes scanning the space like he’s never seen it before.
“I have a pizza on the way,” I tell him. “I suggest you spit out whatever it is you want to say before it gets here because I’m going to devour the pizza. It’s not going to be pretty. I don’t care if it is unladylike.”
“I’m sorry.” He says the words quickly, as if he’s afraid they’ll disappear if he doesn’t get them out.
I blink, not sure how to respond. I wasn’t expecting an apology. “Okay …”
“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I was wrong.”
“Okay …”
“Are you just going to keep saying okay?”
“For now, yeah. I’m waiting for the but.”
“There isn’t one.”
I freeze. He’s serious. No excuses or explanation. Just an apology.
“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I messed up, and I know I messed up. I shouldn’t have put my baggage on you. I overreacted. I was scared, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”
I cross my arms, not ready to just jump back into his arms. “You accused me of trying to trap you, Nick. That’s not just an overreaction. That’s hurtful. You made me sound like some gold digger.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. I was an idiot. But I want to fix this. I want us to figure things out together.”
I look at him, afraid to get my hopes up. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes,” he says. “I do. I care about you, Ava. More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. And I don’t want to lose you.”
“Is this just so I’ll keep up the stupid fake engagement?”
“No. But I am hoping you will agree to come back. Just for a couple more days.”
I stare at him, trying to read his expression. I want to believe him. I really do. But things are so messy now, and I’m not sure I can trust him—or myself—to navigate this without getting hurt.
“Nick, I don’t know if I can keep pretending with your parents.
It felt wrong before, but now? With … everything else?
” My hand instinctively rests on my stomach.
His eyes flicker down for a moment before meeting mine again.
“It just feels like we’re lying to them even more.
This is my child’s grandparents I’m deceiving. ”
He runs a hand through his hair, which explains the hot mess on top of his head. “I get that. I do. And I hate asking you to keep up the charade. Just one more dinner.”
I sigh. “And then what? Do we tell them the truth? Or do we keep dragging this out?”
“We’ll figure it out later,” he says. “Just a few more days. They’ll be happy about the baby.”
“We can’t tell them right now!”
He smiles. “I didn’t mean that, but when we do. They’ll be happy.”
My phone vibrates on the floor where I tossed it. My heart skips a beat.
Ethan.
“Expecting a call?” he asks.
I don’t miss the jealous undercurrents.
“No,” I snap.
In that moment, my decision is made. It’s safer at Nick’s place. I don’t know what Ethan’s up to, but I have to think of my child. Not just me.
I walk over and pick up the phone.
It’s not Ethan.
It’s the pizza driver announcing he’ll arrive in a few minutes.
I hold up my phone for Nick to get a glimpse of the screen. “My pizza. Not that I owe you an explanation. We’re fake engaged, remember?”
“And you’re carrying my child, remember?”
“I don’t know what you think this is, but you’re going to need to be clearer,” I say. “You don’t want me. You want your freedom. But I’m supposed to be your incubator at your beck and call?”
He steps toward me. I take a step back. There’s a look in his eyes that I can’t name.
He reaches for my hand and pulls me to him. “I’m not seeing anyone. Only you. And we are going to figure that out.”
“What is that?” I ask.
“Us.”
I want to fall into his arms and tell him to whisk me away to his fancy castle. I want the fairytale with my prince swooping in and saving the day.
But this is real life. There aren’t princes that pluck average women out of their boring lives and plop them on their beautiful white steed and ride off into the sunset.
I pull back, snapping myself out of the fantasy.
“I’m here now,” he says. “I’m trying. This isn’t just about the baby or my parents.
You’re important to me. I can’t promise you a lot, but I can promise you I’m going to try and figure things out.
I care about you, Ava. Please, bear with me.
Give me grace. I want to do this right. I want to be right for you.
It’s hard for me. That’s not your fault.
It’s mine. But I’m trying. I swear, I’m going to try and be the man you deserve. Just don’t quit me yet.”
That’s not the flowery words of love and commitment a knocked-up girl hopes for.
Before I can respond, the doorbell rings.
“I need to answer that,” I say quietly, pulling my hand away from his.
“Can we at least share the pizza? Talk more?” Nick asks.
“Fine,” I relent as I head toward the door. “I was planning to eat the whole thing by myself. You’re saving me from myself.”
He chuckles softly as I open the door to greet the delivery driver.
After stuffing our faces, he wipes his hands and looks around my apartment. “Can you please pack your suitcase? I’ll take you home.”
“Your home,” I correct.
“For now,” he says, leaving me to wonder what that means. “My parents are still counting on that dinner you promised tomorrow night.”
I groan. “That.”
“Yes, that. We can order something. You don’t need to cook.”
“No, no,” I shake my head. “I told your mom I would make my mom’s lasagna. I want to. It’s the only thing I can make. And it’s actually good.”
“Okay,” he says with a smile. “Should I keep 9-1-1 on speed dial in case you poison us?”
“Very funny,” I laugh. “It’s not all that hard. It’s why I can make it. Jarred sauce and packaged cheese. And it’s good.”
We go back to his place, but things are …
different. There’s a tension between us now, a weight that wasn’t there before.
We’re both trying to navigate this new reality, but it’s not easy.
I know he’s trying. That’s important. He’s got a lot of baggage.
Sierra did a number on him. I’ve never truly be in love.
Ethan and I … it wasn’t love. Maybe I would be the same if I had gone through what he did.
But even though he’s trying, and I believe him when he says he cares about me, I go to bed in the guest room. I’m not ready to hop back in his bed.
Not yet.
The following evening, after spending an hour in Nick’s beautiful kitchen, I’m ready to host his parents for dinner.
Nick walks in and leans down to smell the lasagna. “Smells good.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t be nervous,” he says.
“I’m not.”
“You’re lying.”
“I just feel so weird,” I groan.
“They love you. Don’t feel weird. It’s just dinner. We’ll eat. They’ll go back to their hotel. And if all goes well, they go all the way home.”
“Help me set the table,” I tell him.
Ten minutes later, his parents arrive. I put on my best smile and pretend all is well.
“Ava!” his mom says, pulling me into a hug. “It’s so good to see you again. Are you feeling better?”
“Much, thank you.” I smile. “Come on in.”
After the usual greetings, we sit down to eat. Nick’s parents are charming and kind, and I find myself relaxing as we talk. Nick and I play the happy couple, laughing at their jokes, sharing stories, and pretending everything is fine.
But I can’t stop feeling like an imposter.
After dinner, Nick and his dad head out to the patio to have a drink, leaving me alone with his mom.
“So, have you two set a date yet?”
I frown. “A date?”
“For the wedding,” she says, her tone excited. “I’m so looking forward to it.”
I feel a surge of panic, my mind racing. We did not talk about this. Our little story was missing some key details. “Uh … next spring. We’re thinking next spring.”
Her eyes light up, and she claps her hands together. “Oh, that’s perfect! I can’t wait.”
I force a smile, my chest tightening. “Yeah. Me too.”
I fake a smile, my mind racing as Nick’s mother starts listing off all the things we’ll need to do for the wedding.
“You’ll need to pick a venue first, of course. And then there’s the dress, the flowers … oh, and the guest list! We’ll have to start thinking about that soon. Do you have a lot of friends or family you’d like to invite?”
I nod along, trying to keep up with her enthusiasm. “Uh, yeah, I’ll have to think about it. I haven’t really started planning yet.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll help you every step of the way.”
I force another smile, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. “Yeah, of course. That would be great.”
“And what about the wedding party? Have you thought about who you want to ask to be your maid of honor? These are things that should be asked sooner rather than later.”
I shake my head. Another little situation Nick and I failed to discuss. He should have known she would have questions. “Not yet. I’m still trying to figure everything out.”
“And what about a ring? I can’t help but notice your finger is still bare.”
“Nick wanted me to pick out my own ring, but we just haven’t had a chance to go shopping yet.” I’m such a terrible liar. I didn’t even think about a ring.
I glance toward the patio, where Nick and his dad are talking and laughing like they don’t have a care in the world.
I’m doing my best to tap into my telepathic energy to get Nick’s ass back inside. He needs to save me.
Finally, he looks over his shoulder. I stare at him. He frowns and then finally comes inside. His mom is still gushing about the wedding. Nick gives me a surprised look, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just nods, playing along.
“Next spring,” he says. “We’re thinking a small ceremony, just family and close friends.”
I smile, but inside, I’m screaming.
After they leave, Nick and I sit on the couch. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.
“Next spring?” he says finally, his tone teasing.
I shrug, my cheeks heating up. “I panicked. She caught me off guard.”
He laughs. “She does that. She’s used to taking over.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”