12. Reed
Reed
Pregnant.
She’s pregnant.
I stare into her brown eyes, and they’re swimming with emotion. My heart beats against my ribs so hard as I try to process the words she just muttered.
“You’re pregnant?” I ask, and everything and everyone around us fades into the background.
Sure, they’re easy to understand for most people, but for some reason, I can’t comprehend them. It’s like the world is playing a joke. First, we get married while drunk and only sleep together once. And somehow, we end up with a baby out of the crazy night too.
“Yes,” she says calmly.
“And you’re sure?” God, I sound like an asshole.
She nods. “I’m sure. I took a few tests and have a doctor’s appointment next week to verify, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure you knocked me up.”
“I’m pretty sure you were an active participant that night,” I tell her. Once again, I sound like a complete asshole.
“I don’t remember.”
“Neither do I,” I remind her.
I need to pull myself together. We’re having a baby. That means I’ll be tied to her forever. There’s no quickie divorce and putting this behind us.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
The news is jarring to me but had to be even more so to her. I don’t have to watch my body change and give birth.
She moves her hands to her abdomen and rests them there. “I don’t know what I am at this point. I’m still in shock.”
“I can imagine,” I tell her, trying to sound understanding.
Now everything makes sense. Her standoffish behavior since I showed up. The questions about children. The sketchy behavior in the bakery like she didn’t want me to talk too loud because someone might overhear us.
“Does your family know?”
She nods as her lip quivers. “They know about the pregnancy, but not about the marriage.”
“Why not about the marriage?” I rub my hands together, trying to rid myself of some of my nervous energy.
She shrugs. “I didn’t want to hit them with two shocks at once, and since we’re getting a divorce, I figured why bother.”
“This complicates everything.”
“Sorry we’re a complication to you, Reed,” she says, and her words are biting.
I blow out a breath. I’m royally fucking this up. Am I in shock? Yes. Am I going to abandon her? No way. The baby growing inside her is just as much mine as it is hers. I can’t turn my back on them now.
When I thought about having children, I figured I’d be married. I was right on both accounts, but I was completely wrong about how both of those things would happen. Way wrong.
“You’re not a complication, Amelia, and neither is the child.
” I keep my voice soft this time. I want her to know that I’m not mad at her.
How could I be? I’m not a total asshole.
“Do you still want the divorce?” I don’t know why I ask that, but the words slip out of my mouth with very little thought.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t we?”
I point to where her hands are resting. “We’re having a child.”
“I’m having a child. You donated some sperm.”
I shake my head as my gut twists. “I’m not that type of guy, sugar. I may not be the one giving birth, but that’s still my child too.”
“You don’t need to be part of their life,” she says casually, like we’re talking about custody of our pet cat and not a human being.
“I’m not turning my back on either of you.”
She stares at me with a cold look I’m not sure I saw on her face in Vegas.
I don’t like it. I also don’t like the type of guy she assumes I am.
I’ve never been one to cut and run from my responsibilities, especially when it’s something so big and important.
“I don’t need anything from you financially.
If you can have your lawyer add a section relinquishing custody to me, we can make a clean break. ”
“Amelia,” I say sternly, done with her bullshit. “Listen to me, and listen good.”
Her lips twist into a sneer.
“I’m not relinquishing custody. I’m not walking away.
I’m not going to vanish into the wind and fuck off back to South Dakota.
I’m not the type of douchebag who’s going to leave my child behind and pretend they don’t exist. I don’t know about the guys in Chicago, but that’s not how I was raised or how I’m built. ”
“Here we are,” the waitress says, interrupting our conversation without a clue about the gravity of the situation.
My stomach rumbles, not catching the clues my brain is giving out as she sets down four plates she had perfectly balanced on her arms.
“Anything else?” she asks when neither of us says anything.
We’re too busy staring each other down to speak.
“No. We’re good,” I tell her without a glance.
The woman doesn’t seem fazed by our rudeness as she leaves us to pick up where we left off.
“Can you eat this?” I ask her, motioning to the plates of food in front of us, not knowing a damn thing about pregnancy.
She nods. “I’m not going to do anything to hurt my child.”
The way she says my child grates on my nerves, but I let it slide for now. She’s going to learn that I’m not going anywhere.
“I’m giving you an out,” she says, reaching for the spoon in the fried rice.
I lean forward and drop my voice, but I keep my tone soft. “I don’t want one.”
She peers up at me with her spoon hovering in midair. “You don’t?”
I shake my head, curling my hands into tight fists. How could she think I’d want to walk away like that? Because she doesn’t know me. “I know we barely know each other, Amelia, but I want to be in our baby’s life.” I want to be in hers too, but I leave that bit out…for now.
“No man wants a child they don’t even remember conceiving. I’m not trying to trap you, Reed. We made a mistake that night. I don’t want to mess up that six kids and a wife plan you have.”
“I don’t have a plan, and from where I’m sitting, I have a wife and one kid on the way.” No part of my statement is false. She is indeed my wife, and we have a baby that’ll arrive in six months.
“On paper only,” she replies as she continues to spoon out food, covering her plate in an ungodly amount that her small frame shouldn’t be able to handle. “I don’t want you to think I’m the type of girl who would trap you against your will.”
“Sugar, no one traps me unless I’m exactly where I want to be.
I never once thought you tried to trap me into getting married, and I damn sure don’t think you’re trying to trap me with a baby either.
Neither one of us knew what we were doing, but somehow, the universe has blessed us with a baby on top of it all. ”
“I’m so scared,” she whispers, and she finally sets down the spoon. She leans back in her chair, placing a hand on her stomach again. “This isn’t how I planned my life to go.”
“Sometimes the things we don’t plan are the things we love the most,” I tell her. Who the hell am I? I’m waxing poetic like I’m a sage with decades of wisdom. I motion for her to give me her hand.
She stares at me for a few seconds that feel like a lifetime, before she slides her palm against mine.
I squeeze her tiny hand in mine. “I’m here for you. I’ll be here for you. You won’t have to do this alone.”
She shakes her head. “But you won’t be. You’ll be hundreds of miles away. As you should be. Your life is there. You have no ties to me. No responsibility to me.”
“But I do ,” I tell her, and I mean every word of it. “The ranch doesn’t need me. Not more than you do, at least.”
I can’t believe I’m saying this to her. I never thought I’d be anywhere else except the ranch. I planned to live out my days in South Dakota, but whatever divine being is out there has made other plans for me.
I get out of my seat, round the table, and drop down on one knee.
Amelia’s eyes go wide as she stares at me. “What are you doing?”
“Hugging my wife,” I tell her, pulling her into my arms before she has a chance to push me away or protest.
She stiffens at first, the feeling so foreign to both of us since we’re virtual strangers…at least physically. She fits nicely in my embrace, her frame so much smaller than mine. I bury my face in her hair as she finally relaxes against me.
“I got you, baby,” I whisper near her ear. “You aren’t going to be alone.”
Her body sags against me and she sniffles. “I’m scared,” she whispers again. “So damn scared, Reed.”
My heart aches for her. Of course I’m worried and scared about becoming a father at a time in my life that I hadn’t planned. But she has bigger worries. She’s growing a whole human inside her, and sometimes things don’t work out the way they should.
I hold her tighter. “I’ve got you, Amelia. Both of you,” I whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her body shakes as she twists the sleeve of my shirt in her small hand. “I don’t…” she sobs against me, but the rest of her words come out garbled.
I cradle the back of her head, smoothing down her hair. “Shh,” I whisper. “It’ll be okay.”
Do I know it’ll be okay? No. But I will do everything in my power to help her through the pregnancy and be a present father in any way I can. We’ll figure out what that means for both of us in the next few months. But for now, I’m keeping my ass in Chicago—or, at least, anywhere Amelia is.
She pulls back and stares at me with red, puffy eyes. “You can’t stay here.”
“Why not?” I ask.
She doesn’t let go of her grasp on my shirt as she looks at me, her irises appearing closer to hazel because they’re surrounded by red. “You have a life in South Dakota. You have a family business. You can’t pick up and move your life.”
I reach up and take her chin between two fingers. “That’s the beauty of a family business. They can survive without me. I’m not leaving you,” I say again, hoping this time she’ll finally believe me.
Her lip quivers as our eyes stay locked on each other. “Reed,” she whispers back.
“No arguments. We’ll work out the rest later, but you need to know you’re not alone. You’re under enough stress, and I’ll be here to take some of that off your shoulders.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but no words come out.
“We’ll talk about this later. Are you hungry?” I ask her. I may not know a damn thing about pregnancy, but I know pregnant women need to eat.