Sutton
Chapter six
My phone rings, startling me out of the email I was reading, and I snatch it up from my desk.
“Hey,” I greet Sebastian.
“Hi, love. We just got to the hotel in Charlotte. Figured I’d call you and see how things were going before I took a nap.”
My heart does a stutter step at the fact that he thought to call to check on me, at the way he calls me love, and for a second, I let myself imagine what it would be like if I really was his.
How nice it would be to have a partner, have someone who cares about me and checks up on me.
Not that my friends don’t care about me, because they do, but the kind of care and concern that comes from a partner is different.
But now is not the time nor the place to unpack those thoughts.
“I’m good. What’s up?” I click on my calendar to see what meetings I have this afternoon. Thankfully, my schedule is light.
“Wanted to let you know the movers are scheduled for Sunday.”
“Okay. Any idea how much it’ll cost?”
“It’s all taken care of, love.”
I sit up straight in my chair. What? No. “Sebastian.”
“What?”
“You can’t do that,” I whisper. I can’t let him pay.
“I can, and I will.”
“It’s too much.” I blink away the tears threatening to fall. I’m not normally this emotional; it must be the pregnancy hormones.
“It’s not too much.”
“Regardless, I can’t accept. Please tell me how much it is, and I’ll pay you back.”
“No,” he huffs out.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I, and I’m telling you not to worry about it.”
“I can’t let you do this.” I prop my head up with one hand.
“Please, let me do this for you. Consider it a gift. Let me take care of you. Help you out with this.” My breath hitches.
Get it together. He’s just being nice.
“Fine.” I relent. “But I’m going to get everything packed so it takes them less time.” And is hopefully cheaper for him.
“I’d rather you let them handle it.”
“Nope.”
He sighs. “Fine, but if it gets to be too much, just leave it, and the movers will do it.”
“Okay.” I can agree to his compromise.
There’s silence for a few beats before he says, “Shit, sorry. Someone’s knocking at the door. Probably room service. I gotta go, but I’ll call you later.”
“You don’t have to.” But I want you to.
“I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
The call ends, and I stare at my phone as if it can help me unpack all the things that just happened, all the things Sebastian said or didn’t say.
He’s always been the sweetest, most caring guy.
A guy who, in any other situation, I would have jumped at dating the first time he asked me.
But I couldn’t. As much as I might have wanted to.
And as nice and kind as he is, I can’t date him.
He’s rich, and I promised myself years ago I’d never fall for a wealthy man.
It’s days like today that I wish my childhood was different.
That I wish I had different experiences.
I wish I had a father who didn’t use his money to bend people to his will and instead actually loved me.
I wish my mother had been around more. I’m jealous of the people who grew up in a loving home, who grew up knowing what a loving relationship looks like.
And I am a little jealous of my friends who have found their own love, something I’ve always longed for but now finding it is even more complicated. I rest my hand on my stomach.
Just you and me for the next eighteen years. You and me, little one.
“Sutton, are you alright?”
I frown, looking up to see Becca hovering in my doorway. “I’m fine, why?”
She tilts her head, studying me before walking into my office and shutting the door behind her. She takes the seat across from me. “I was talking to you, and you didn’t respond, plus you were staring down at your stomach with a weird expression on your face.”
“Oh, sorry. I was really focused.” I gesture to the paper in front of me.
She leans forward, picks up the paper, and turns it around. “It was upside down. Want to tell me what’s going on?”
I fiddle with the ring on my thumb. “Nothing.”
Becca clocks my fidgeting. “Right. Try again.”
I make sure the door is closed before saying, “Fine. But I need you to promise you won’t tell Holt.”
“You know I can’t promise that.”
I pull out my purse and riffle through the pockets. “Here.” I slide a dollar bill toward her. “Can I retain your medical services?”
She glances between me and the money on the desk. “That’s not how it works.”
“Please, Becca.” My voice hitches at the end.
She watches me for a few seconds before pushing the bill back toward me. “Keep your money. I won’t say anything to Holt.”
I stare down at the desk. “I’m pregnant.”
Silence grows between us for a few beats before I can’t take it anymore and look up. She reaches across the desk, takes my hand, and squeezes it gently.
“Want to tell me about it?”
I blink a few times, feeling tears welling.
“It was a one-night stand over the holidays. We used a condom.” I sigh.
“I don’t know if it broke or if it was expired.
I kept meaning to get another birth control shot, but between being sick and work being busy, I never did.
” My shoulders sag. “I’m thirty-six, almost thirty-seven.
I should have been a responsible adult and gone to get the shot. ”
“Did you tell the father?” she asks quietly.
“I don’t know his full name, and he said he was only in town for a few days.”
Becca lets go of my hand, gets to her feet, and rounds my desk. I stand and hug her.
“It’s going to be okay.” She rubs my back, and that’s what makes the tears I’ve been trying to hold back break free.
“I don’t know if it is. I’m going to be a single mother. I don’t know how I’m going to do it.”
“You have us. You won’t be alone. What about your family?”
I shake my head. “Except for my sister, I have no contact with them.”
“I see, and Sebastian, does he …?”
“He knows.” I pull back and meet her eyes. “I blurted it all out to him when he offered to let me stay at his place.” I shake my head, my vision going blurry from the tears.
She hands me a few tissues, and I wipe my face.
“This wasn’t part of the plan. Although I don’t know how my plan would ever work out since I couldn’t ever find Mr. Right.”
Well, I might have found him, but I can’t have him.
Besides, it’s too late now. I need to focus on my child, make sure they have a safe and loving environment to grow up in.
That I’m a present mother, unlike my own who was barely around before she died unexpectedly.
My stomach drops. What if I’m a terrible mother?
“Plans change.”
“I know.” I step out of her embrace, and she lets me go. “Thank you for listening.” I take a deep breath, feeling a little better now that someone else knows.
She takes her seat again. “I’m always here if you need to talk.”
“I appreciate it.”
She leans back in her chair, resting her palms in her lap. “What’s your plan now?”
“Find a place to live so I don’t overstay my welcome with Sebastian.”
“Find anything good?”
I drop my head into my hands. “No, all the listings in the nicer part of town are out of my price range. I thought about expanding my search area, but that means dealing with traffic on the highway, and we all know how bad that can be during rush hour.” I checked this morning while I was waiting for a conference call to begin and was shocked at the prices of one-bedroom apartments.
“I’m thinking of hiring a realtor, but honestly, I don’t know if it would help.
” This is why I loved my old place so much: the rent was doable, it was in a good part of town, and the commute wasn’t bad.
“Hear me out …”
“No.”
She laughs. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“I don’t need to, not when you start with hear me out.”
She crosses her arms, leveling me with a look. “For all you know I was going to suggest you move in with us.”
“Were you?”
She chuckles. “No. But I was going to say maybe you should take Sebastian up on his offer to live with him for a while.” I cringe. She points at me. “What?”
“I already asked if I could stay for a few weeks. Longer feels like a risky move.” I shake my head. “No, I need to find a place soon.”
She scoffs. “Men and women live together all the time, and it’s fine. You need boundaries. Rules. Besides, it’s not like I’m telling you to find a random roommate on the internet.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
“No. Do not do that. You’re pregnant. You don’t want to live with just anyone.” Her gaze flashes to my stomach, and I instinctively drop a hand to it.
“Fine. You’re probably right.” What choices do I have?
Commute miles to work. Live in a bad area.
Use my savings to pay an exorbitant amount in rent each month.
I’d rather use the savings to pay for whatever I’ll need for the baby.
“I’ll think about it and talk to him when he gets back.
Although I just told him I’d stay for a few weeks, so it might give him whiplash if I say, ‘Oh, by the way, can I stay indefinitely?’” I snort.
“Doubtful, but you keep telling yourself that. What I came in here for was to see if you want to go to lunch.”
My stomach chooses that moment to rumble, and I realize I’m starving since I didn’t eat breakfast because I was too nauseous.
“Yes, please.” I lock my computer and grab my purse then follow her out of my office and toward the elevator.
I spend most of lunch trying not to think about the conversation with Sebastian I’ll have to have once he’s back in town.
How awkward it’s going to be to ask him if I can stay with him for a while.
But that’s for future Sutton to worry about.
Why does that feel like it’s going to become my newest mantra?