19. Allie
ALLIE
When I land back at LAX, I go home to get my car, avoiding my parents in the process. They’re confused and annoyed with my spontaneous detour to Texas, and my heart is too tattered to confront them today.
I don’t drive back to campus either.
I drive to Willow’s house.
It’s Sunday morning, and I know she doesn’t work Sundays. Her car and Weston’s truck are in the drive of the house they rent from Lou and Livia. I knock twice, and it takes her thirty seconds to answer.
She’s got groggy eyes, sleep-mused blond hair, and a confused expression on her face when she blinks at me. “Hey, what are you—”
I break down, collapsing into her arms as the weight of the past twenty-four hours finally takes its toll.
“This is so stupid.”
“I just want to see it with my own eyes.”
I pull my knees to my chest, curled up on Willow’s bathroom floor, leaning back against her tub, digging my toes into the furry green rug.
After I cried so hard I threw up, Willow made me take a shower while she ran to the store and bought me ginger chews and peppermint tea, plus a pregnancy test.
She stands at the sink, tapping her nails against the counter as she waits for the result to register, even though I know what it’s going to say.
“Wow.” She breathes, spinning around to peer down at me. “Look at that. A little plus sign.” She holds it up, a hopeful smile on her face.
I blink back at her with a deadpan expression through my tear-swollen eyes.
That smile turns solemn. “Oh, Allie.” She crouches to the floor, crawling toward me before scooping me into her arms. “It’s going to be okay. It’ll work out.”
I don’t respond, but she doesn’t let go, holding me for a long while as every last ounce of moisture spills from my eyes.
When the tears have finally stopped, and my breathing evens out, she asks softly, “Why didn’t you tell him? Is it because you don’t want to keep it?”
I shake my head. Never for a second since finding out have I considered that. The truth is that having this, with Archer, is something I’ve wanted since I was old enough to understand want.
Playing with dolls as a child—they were always babies I’d have with him. Dressing up with Willow in white and pretending to be married, she was my stand in, but only ever for Archer.
I didn’t just fantasize about being a wife and mother—I also played pop star, bake show host, and astronaut. But even in all those dreams, Archer was there too, and they all ended with me coming home to him and the family we built together.
These aren’t the circumstances or the timing I’d imagined, but it’s a dream I’ve had.
My future didn’t pan out exactly like my childhood fantasies, but his has, and this baby may mean ripping them away from him.
“You know that if he found out right now, he’d drop everything and come home,” I say shakily.
“Of course he would.” Willow brushes her hand over my head. “He’ll take care of you. He’ll carry you through this.”
“That’s the point, Willow.” I scramble out of her arms. “I can’t let him do that. I can’t let him give it up now. Then it’s all for nothing.”
She cocks her head, blue eyes shimmering with perplexity. “What’s all for nothing?”
“Everything we’ve put ourselves through,” I exclaim.
“If he doesn’t finish out this season and apply for the draft, then all this distance and heartache and sacrifice was for nothing.
He’s missed four years—been out there on his own, giving up everything for this sport.
Who the fuck am I to take that away from him now? ”
“You’re not taking anything from him, Allie.” She hushes me, grabbing my hands. “He’s just as responsible for this happening as you are.”
I shake my head. “He thought I was on birth control.”
“Doesn’t matter. He knows there is always a risk, and he took that risk with you. He needs to be part of this.”
“He will be.” I nod. “After his season is over.”
Willow bites her lip, eyes searching mine in contemplation before she finally offers a resigned nod.
“Are you judging me?” I cough an incredulous laugh.
She tosses me an eye roll, her lips quirking. “I’ve never judged you for anything in my life. Certainly not this.” I wrap my arms around her now, squeezing her tight as she adds, “So, how much do you know? How far along are you? When is your due date? What do we need to do to prepare?”
“Oh my God, calm down. You’re stressing me out and I’m going to barf again.
” I sigh, feeling a little lighter for the first time this morning.
“The doctor estimates that I’m around ten weeks, based on the date of conception.
She sent a referral to a doctor closer to campus, and I need to schedule an appointment within the next two weeks for an ultrasound.
Otherwise…I’m not really sure what to do. ”
“Okay… Well, consider me your daddy stand-in until daddy comes home.” Willow gasps, eyes bulging as she clamps a hand over her mouth. “Whoa. It really just hit me. You’re going to be a mom, and Archer is going to be a dad.” She points to my stomach. “That’s going to be my niece or nephew.”
“Second cousin.” I snort.
Her lip curls. “That’s way too far removed. They’ll call me their aunt.” We both laugh, hugging once more before Willow lifts off the floor and pulls me up with her. “Wait, let me see your stomach. Are you showing?”
“I don’t think so,” I murmur, lifting my shirt. “But I think I look a little bloated. I didn’t want to change my clothes in front of Archer because I was afraid he’d notice.”
She smiles, gazing down at my stomach as she spreads a hand over it just before there is a knock at the bathroom door and it creaks open, Weston’s head popping in. He pauses, giving us a bemused once over before he asks, “What do you guys want for lunch?”
“Corn on the cob,” I say with complete confidence.
“All right, so here you can see this is the head, and then…” The ultrasound technician slides the wand across my abdomen. “Those are the little feet.”
“Oh my God,” Willow gasps, and when I turn my head from the screen to look at her, she has tears streaming down her face.
I squeeze her hand tighter, blinking through tears of my own.
It’s been two weeks since I found out I was pregnant, and the guilt has been tearing me apart day by day. Keeping it from Archer, and subsequently both our families, is killing me. The cut of shame slices so much deeper when I’m staring at our baby for the first time.
“Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” the tech asks, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes.
“Umm… Am I terrible if I say no?” I ask shakily, flushed with more guilt. “It’s just…my—uh…the father—isn’t here and I don’t want to hear it without him.”
“That’s okay.” She smiles softly, placing the wand back onto a tray beside the monitor before she wipes the gooey shit off my stomach. “I’ll send the doctor right in.”
When the door closes behind her, Willow’s eyes find mine. “You’re sure you don’t want to hear it? It’ll make things even more real. Might help motivate you to take your prenatals.”
“Ugh.” I groan, throwing a hand over my eyes.
“I know. I’m sorry. I keep forgetting.” But I shake my head as I sit up on the table, rebuttoning my jeans and pulling my tee down over my stomach.
“I know it’s going to gut him when he finds out, and the less milestones I cover without him, the better. ”
Willow’s lips cluster in the corner of her mouth, brows knitting. “I’m still having trouble understanding your motives here, Allie. Keeping this from Archer—from your family—feels so wrong.”
The disappointment dripping from her voice is a burning type of sting.
“I can’t risk him dropping out of college or the draft for this,” I say gruffly, wishing she’d understand my reasoning—no matter how fucked up it may be.
“Right…but you can’t hide it forever. Eventually, you’re going to show past what clothes can hide, you’re going to like…give birth, Allie. There will be a child.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m going to tell him when he comes home for Christmas. After the season is over. Only another month and a half from now. I’ll barely be halfway through my pregnancy at that point. There are some women who don’t even know they’re pregnant by then.”
“Okay…” she drawls. “But what about the draft?”
“He’ll be home for at least a month over the holidays before he’s supposed to start taking scouting trips. I can convince him during that time.”
“And what about you, Allie? Who’s convincing you not to give up on your dreams because of this?” She nods at my stomach. “What about grad school? My aunt’s bakery?”
I shrug. “I’ll figure it out.”
“I still think you need to tell him as soon as possible. Whatever decisions he makes about his future are on him.”
I lift my gaze to hers, eyes narrowing. “I thought you were with me in this, Willow.”
“I am.” She leans forward, taking my hands. “I’m always on your side, but I’m not going to keep my mouth shut when I disagree with the way you’re handling something, okay?”
I inhale, considering if there is anything more to say, before I finally respond with a resigned nod. Just then, there is a knock on the door before it creaks open, and the doctor enters.
“Miss Evans?” she asks, poking her head in. Her auburn hair tied into a neat bun at the base of her neck, green eyes behind thick dark-rimmed glasses, and a wide smile, Dr. Abbey enters the room. “How are you feeling today?”
“I feel all right,” I say at the same time Willow chimes, “Her morning sickness has been really bad.”
The doctor smiles, eyes drifting toward my best friend, then our joined hands. “And this is your partner?” She extends an arm toward Willow. “It’s nice to meet you—”
“Willow.” She smiles, returning the handshake, not bothering to correct the doctor.
I snort. “She’s my best friend.”
“Ah. Okay.” Dr. Abbey sits on a stool beside the exam table, pulling up the monitor with my sonogram on it.
“So, the baby looks healthy. Your vitals are good. We’re on the right track for development at twelve weeks.
As you enter your second trimester, your morning sickness will hopefully lessen a bit, but you may start to experience some heartburn.
If it gets unbearable, give us a call and I can prescribe you something to treat that.
You should start to feel the baby move in the next few weeks as well, so don’t be alarmed.
” She chuckles. “It can be a weird experience before you get used to it.”
I nod, stomach tightening at the realization that this little thing inside me will continue to grow and develop and expand.
“Do you know the due date?” Willow asks.
“Ah yes.” She spins, facing us with a smile on her face. “April twenty-ninth.”
“Oh, a Taurus baby. Thank God,” Willow says, glancing at me. “You are not compatible with Aries.”
The doctor laughs, and my stomach flips with nausea again.
She goes over a plan for my pregnancy—vitamins to take, foods to eat and not to eat, and schedules my next appointment.
I’ll return in about a month for another checkup to see how things are progressing, and my next appointment after that will be to find out the sex of the baby—by that point, Archer should be home.
When we leave, Willow and I have lunch before she heads back to Irvine for an afternoon class, and I make my way to Pacific Shores for a shift at the bakery.
It’s easy enough right now to hide my pregnancy. I can blame the fatigue on late night study sessions, and the oversized clothing on the cooler weather—but it’s the guilt that I find myself unable to run from.
It eats me alive for the next several weeks.