Chapter 11 #2
“You go out there and fuck him,” I whisper to my reflection, pointing my finger at… me . “Stop being a little puta and fuck him before your life changes forever.”
One last hoorah before life becomes unrecognizable.
I adjust my bra before opening the bathroom door, keeping my head held high. As I step into the living room, I see Quintin’s back to me as he looks out the window.
“Sorry about that…”
My second attempt at an apology trails off when he turns to face me.
One of the fucking books Santana had delivered earlier is in his hands. I glance at the table, where the rest of the books rest, stacked.
I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could fucking disappear.
But when I open them again, I’m still here, mortified.
“Are you pregnant?” he asks, cutting through the silence with the quiet question.
Unable to speak, I nod. I know I should say more, should explain what’s going on here, but what can I say?
I slept with some guy a while ago, before we met, and now I’m pregnant with his child with no way to contact him?
I’ve never been embarrassed of my free-spirited lifestyle up until this point. To have to stare my choices in the face like this, with Quintin witnessing it? It’s fucking uncomfortable. We were about to have sex, and now he can hardly hold eye contact with me.
“Is this why…”
Why I’ve been a mess?
Why I’ve tried to fight this attraction?
Why I don’t trust you?
“Yes,” I finally attempt to speak again. Because “yes” to all the above.
“And the father?” he asks, moving to set the book back down on my table. His voice is so low, quiet. I don’t know what to make of him. “Is he around?”
I shake my head, already ashamed this baby is the result of a one-night stand. It wasn’t made from love, and I bear the brunt of its existence alone, praying it never feels even a fraction of the shame I shoulder.
If I have anything to do with it, it won’t.
Best to get these feelings out of the way now. I hate how the room that was once so warm feels like all life has been sucked from it. I hug myself, leaning on myself for the comfort I’m desperately seeking.
The spotlight is on me and my decision-making, and I can’t read his reaction.
Quintin is silent as he mulls over what he’s learned. I follow suit, watching him as his jaw works, eyes far away. Then he clears his throat and speaks again.
“Make sure you eat,” he says as he picks up his coat from the floor.
He walks out, the door shutting quietly behind him.
Fuck.
I have no idea what to think.
She doesn’t even know you. Pepper’s words echo in my mind, and I hate the sound of them. I hate how complicated this has just become.
Apparently, I don’t know her either. While I’m not completely aware of the status of her pregnancy, I can only assume, due to the baby books, that she intends on becoming a mother.
Which was not what I thought was going to happen when I decided to knock on her door. I had so much hope, so much attraction, and it felt like I could finally breathe when I kissed her again.
And then the moment was over.
I felt numb when I spoke to her, careful not to use words that may make her uncomfortable, careful not to cast judgment. I’m only her neighbor who has a crush on her at this point.
I have no business judging a version of her I never knew—not that becoming a mother is something to judge.
Fuck, I’m spiraling.
But man, does it throw a wrench in the image I had for us, the one I let myself get swept away in it.
Sure, a far-off image that likely would’ve gone differently than envisioned in more ways than just this one, but now, I’ve removed my foot from the gas pedal and tapped the brake.
Perhaps that’s wise in general, but the speed with which I became infatuated was near lightning. It was exhilarating.
Am I just lonely? Or do I actually like this woman?
These are questions I need to ask myself before we continue, now knowing there’s a baby involved.
Am I ready for the potential of being in a baby’s life? To take on that role? If that’s even what she’d want.
I haven’t gone on a proper date with this woman. I’ve kissed her twice, and… now I know why she threw up on my fucking sneakers!
Damn.
She was avoiding me, and it all makes sense now.
Maybe she was the right one in all of this.
Maybe it’s too complicated now. I don’t want to talk to Pepper about it, because this is Daniela’s personal business.
No one has the right to know about her baby until she’s ready, not even me.
But having stumbled upon it, I had to ask, had to clarify so I can figure out what that means for me.
Yes, I’ve been alone for a while, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready for a partner and a baby.
My mind is racing with all these thoughts as I’m in the kitchen at Menagerie, sharpening knives. No one speaks to me, and my noise cancelling headphones make it impossible to hear them even if they were.
It isn’t the end of the world. It certainly doesn’t have to be the end of whatever this is before it even got the chance to start.
But dating isn’t just dating when a child is involved.
No one cared about me when I was a kid. No one wondered how things would affect me. I’m determined that it stops with me, no matter who the child is.
I keep sharpening, ignoring the feeling of Pepper staring at me from her office.
My thoughts carry me away again, and I try to enter her point of view.
I bet she’s afraid.
I set everything down and sit on a nearby stool, my head hanging.
If I’m freaked out, I can’t imagine how she’s feeling. She’s alone, and the father isn’t involved.
Don’t look at her like someone needing saving , I remind myself. She is a grown and capable woman.
But what if I’m not supposed to run away?
What if I’m here for a reason? I try to push away the part of myself that finds joy in feeling like someone needs me.
She kissed me. If I think about it long enough, I can still remember what her skin felt like beneath my palms, how her breath hitched when I touched her, how absolutely shattered she looked when I left.
My mind plays ping pong as I try to wade through my own feelings while still trying to honor hers. Because I like her, at least the parts of her I was given access to.
After her confirmation that this is the reason she hasn’t been receptive, I can’t help but wish I’d stayed and talked to her.
A baby is a big deal, nothing to be taken lightly.
But did I mess up here?