Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
AISLING
Sixteen Months Earlier
“Okay. You’re starting to freak me out,” Frankie says, crossing her arms as her eyes narrow as she studies me.
Normally, I’d have something smart to say back to her because she’s always worrying about something. Frankie is the conspiracy theory queen. You give her an inch, and she will run a marathon with it, leaving you so far behind that you don’t even understand how she got to the end in the first place.
Except today, I actually agree with her.
And that’s fucking scary.
“I’m late.” I finally spoke the words that had been floating around in my head since last week when it finally clicked.
I’ve always been a pretty regular girl, sometimes being off by a day or two, but the red dragon always appears within the timeframe of when it should. The past two months haven’t been the easiest since Hash walked out of my life. I didn’t reach out to him, and he didn’t reach out to me.
Why would he?
I don’t belong in his world.
It still crushed me. Part of me hoped he would have come back and apologized. Said he didn’t mean it. The more days passed and that didn’t happen, the more I cried myself to sleep every night. Missing something you never truly had is insane. He was never mine, and I needed to accept that.
Frankie got me through it. I would probably still be holed up in my depression room littered with double cheeseburger wrappers without her.
“How can you be late? Your next client isn’t even here.”
“No, I’m late, Frankie.” I emphasize, my eyes widening, hoping she will pick up what I’m putting down.
A brow raises as she looks at me confused. “I’m not under — oh, shit. You mean you’re late late.” Her mouth drops open in shock as her eyes about pop out of her head.
“Yup.” What else is there to say? At this point, I’m living in my own world of denial.
“Have you taken a test?”
I shake my head.
“Why the hell not?” Frankie asks like I’m insane.
“I’m scared of what it’s going to say. What if it’s positive? It’s not like I’ve talked to the man since that night.”
“No other symptoms?”
“Not really. I feel more tired than usual, but I also haven’t been sleeping that well.”
The bell on the front door chimes just as Frankie opens her mouth. “That’s your client. My next one canceled. I’m going to get you a test, and you’re taking it after you’re done waxing that vag.”
“I’ll be right with you, Heather!” I yell loud enough for her to hear me out front before hissing, “I can’t take a test here. Are you crazy?”
“Why not? It’s just us. Don’t make me steal your pee.”
What the fuck?
“How would you steal my — you know what? Never mind. I can’t deal with this right now,” I say before quickly walking out front.
I like the solution that if I don’t think about it, then it’s not happening.
It’s a stupid way of thinking, but right now it’s the only thing keeping me from completely losing my shit.
As soon as Heather walks out of the salon and the front door shuts behind her, Frankie is up in my face, shoving a plastic bag from the drugstore down the street in my face.
“It’s pee time.”
“Frankie, really,” I try to plead. I really don’t want to do this here. I knew I shouldn’t have brought it up.
“It will give you peace of mind. Trust me.”
Or an anxiety attack.
“Aren’t you supposed to do it first thing in the morning?”
“Yes, but I know you, and you’re stalling. I didn’t make a little bitch with no balls my best friend.”
God damn it.
“Fine,” I snap, ripping the bag out of her hands and storming off to the bathroom.
I quickly do my thing and set the stick on the sink, not wanting to hold something I just peed on as I lean up against the opposite wall and wait.
My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest as I watch the timer on my phone.
Is this what it feels like to have a heart attack?
I rub my palm against my chest, trying to ease the ache.
The timer on my phone dings, but I’m stuck in place, unable to turn it off.
“I can hear it! Stop being a little bitch and turn it off and check the stick!” Frankie yells through the door.
“Okay,” I tell myself as I take a deep breath. “I can do this.”
I hit the stop on the timer as I take the few steps to the sink.
“Please be negative, please be negative,” I chant as I pick up the stick and look at the little window reading the words.
Pregnant.
My body reacts instantly, vomiting up everything I ate for lunch.
The bathroom door bursts open as Frankie rushes in.
“Shit, babe. Are you okay?” Frankie asks frantically as she pulls my hair back from my face. “Oh, no.” She starts rubbing my back. “It’s okay. We’re going to get you through this. I’m behind you every step of the way with whatever you decide to do.”
“How did this happen?” I cry as I sit back on my calves. “I mean, I know how, but what the fuck?!”
“You think you’re done blowing chunks?” Frankie asks, making a laugh bubble out of me. It’s more from shock than anything.
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s get you up and out of here.”
Frankie helps me to my feet and leads me over to the small loveseat we have in the reception area.
“I know this is a lot to process, but how are we feeling?”
“I honestly have no idea. I’m still stuck on ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’ I’m not ready for a kid! I barely have my life together.”
“Does anyone really have their life together? We’re all out here winging it.” Frankie sighs as she slouches next to me. “Let’s play a game.”
“Now?” I ask incredulously. A game is the last thing I want to do right now.
“It’ll take your mind off it.”
“Fine.” I sigh as I rub my temple. How do I tell a man who walked out of my life that I’m having his baby?
Would he even want the baby?
“You have to answer the rapid-fire questions without thinking about it. Just say your initial answer.”
“Okay.” That sounds easy enough.
“Would you rather have coffee or tea?”
“Tea.”
“Would you rather vacation at the beach or in the mountains?”
“Mountains.”
“Do you want to keep the baby?”
“Yes.”
My hand slaps over my mouth at my admission.
Frankie squeals. “I’m going to be the best auntie!”
A small smile slowly spreads across my face. There’s no way in hell I would be able to do this without her.
Now, I just need to figure out how to tell Hash.
I should be sleeping considering it’s almost two in the morning and I have a ten o’clock appointment, but I can’t.
The second I close my eyes, I can hear the doctor telling me I’m eight weeks pregnant for the first time all over again.
I promised myself I would tell Hash once I had it doctor-confirmed. I figured that way if he had questions, I would actually have answers.
Every single time I picked up my phone, I chickened out. Is it a bad thing to tell someone through text?
Fuck it.
Me: Hey. I know we left things in a weird place when we last spoke, but I was wondering if we could talk?
There.
That’s not bad.
After thirty minutes of staring at my phone waiting for a reply that never came, I finally fell asleep.
I woke up the next morning to nothing.
Not even a hey back.
I give it until the following night before I text him again.
Me: I really need to talk to you.
Should I call? Or does that make me seem a little crazy?
Fuck it. I’m having his baby. It’s not like I’m being crazy because he won’t talk to me or something.
I hit his contact name and click call. It rings once before sending me straight to voicemail.
“What the fuck?” I’m shocked as I pull the phone away from my ear to look at the screen. “Well, fuck you too, asshole.”
I end the call, not wanting to waste my breath on him. Opening up our messages again, I fire off one last text.
Me: I’m pregnant with your fucking baby, dick. Just thought you would want to know. Have a nice life.
I throw my phone down on my bed with a sigh before looking down at my tummy. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”