Chapter 11
Rhett
My life makes zero sense these days. It’s as if someone took the really cool thing I designed, dropped it on the floor, and put it back together in a totally different way than before. It’s not worse, but it’s certainly not what I originally intended.
That’s the thing…
When I’m with Abby, I don’t even care if shit’s broken and backwards. I can breathe and empty parts of me are filled. My chest tightens with unexplainable emotions.
But then my brain catches up.
It reminds me I have a plan, I’ve committed myself to Angela, and I need to see it through to the end.
Why does that make my stomach roil so violently?
A hand slides onto my thigh as I drive, and it feels cold through my jeans. An oily feeling has me wanting to fling it off. It’s fucking ridiculous considering it’s my soon-to-be fiancée.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Angela says, giving my thigh a squeeze. “I wasn’t trying to be pushy. But, if you’re going to spend all your free time with this guy, I feel like I should get to know him too.”
Thankfully, when she all but demanded a dinner with Riko and Derek, my best friend jumped to cover for me.
I haven’t spoken about my confusing feelings toward Abby, but he’s not an idiot.
Abby has told him enough about her tumultuous relationship with her family, especially Angela, that he understands the dynamics.
I’m dreading this couple’s dinner, though.
Even on Riko’s best behavior, I know he will poke and prod for his own entertainment.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
The rest of the drive is quiet. She removes her hand to rapid-fire text with someone. Probably one of her girlfriends or her mother. Honestly, I don’t even care what she’s saying about me.
My mind keeps drifting to Abby. Always her and the baby. The nursery is about done and it’s looking great. I find her sometimes just sitting in the rocker, smiling as she admires the space. It’s a punch to the gut every time.
A few minutes later, we’re parking in front of Riko’s place.
It’s strange to park just one space over when I’m used to doing it in front of Abby’s townhouse.
As we exit the vehicle, I can’t help but discreetly peek over in case I see her looking out the window.
The curtains are drawn, though, and I see nothing. Disappointment floods through me.
Derek answers the door and introductions are quickly made.
There’s a tension in the air I can’t explain.
I catch Angela eyeing the home critically a few times.
Her family’s home has to be worth millions, so there’s no doubt she’s judging this one with its cozy, but obviously dated feel to it. This irks me.
How did Abby and Angela come from the same parents? They’re so different.
I’m in a daze as we eat. Angela and Riko do most of the talking. I get the sense that they’re interrogating each other, but I don’t intervene.
When my phone buzzes in my pocket, I don’t even think about ignoring it. If Abby needs something, I want to make sure I’m there for her. And, as expected, I note that it’s her calling. It eventually stops and the call is sent to voicemail.
I’ll call her after I drop Angela off.
The phone starts buzzing again. With her immediately calling right after the first one, anxiety skitters through me.
We just got her the new phone number this morning when I added her to my plan, so I’m grateful she has the ability to communicate with me, but she normally texts, so this feels outside the norm.
It eventually goes to voicemail when I don’t answer.
“Everything okay?” Angela asks, irritation in her voice.
A text comes through.
Abby: Come now! Hurry!
I push back from the table and am on my feet the next instant.
“Reid needs my help with something,” I blurt out, the lie quick and easy on my tongue. “I’ll be right back.”
Angela asks who Reid is, but I’m already out of Riko’s place. I bolt for Abby’s door and fling it open.
“Abs!”
She’s lying on the sofa, phone in one hand and her other on her belly. It’s too early to have the baby. I rush over to her and kneel. Her features are soft and sweet, not at all what I was expecting if she were in pain.
“Are you okay? What’s happening?”
A cute giggle escapes her as she grabs my hand, bringing it to her belly. My palm caresses over her bare flesh and I shoot her a confused look.
Then I feel it.
A nudge.
The slightest of a brush.
A thrill of equal parts joy and slight terror shoots through me. The sensation against my hand feels so foreign. Alien.
“You look like you might be sick,” she says, laughing again. Her whole belly bounces with the movement. “He’s active today.”
Thinking about our little baby boy inside kicking and moving makes my heart hammer wildly in my chest. This is surreal. Unbelievably cool.
“I can’t believe I can feel him,” I murmur. “This is insane, honey.”
She watches me as I rub other areas and jiggle her stomach trying to get Buck to move again. When I bring my mouth to her belly and speak to him, he starts wriggling again.
“You like Daddy’s voice?” I say, grinning like an idiot. “I love you, little man. Daddy loves you.”
Every worry, every stressor, every confusing emotion is gone in this moment. All that matters is the sweet little thing growing in Abby’s body. The little boy we made.
My eyes burn like I might tear up and my throat feels tight. Abby, who’s been watching my every move, smiles tearfully at me. I kiss her stomach and inhale her familiar scent.
I love…this.
I’m not sure how long I remain here, playing with my unborn baby and relishing every precious second, but it’s eventually interrupted by the knocking on her front door. We both freeze.
When it opens, I expect to see Angela but am relieved when it’s only Riko. His gaze sweeps over us, and he gives me a small frown.
“She’s getting antsy over there,” Riko says. “I’ve stalled long enough.”
Abby stiffens. “Angela’s next door?”
I cringe and give the barest of nods. A small whining sound escapes Abby as she scrambles away from me and off the couch. Jumping to my feet, I panic and shake my head in warning.
“Don’t go over there,” I bark out, sharper than I intend. “Don’t do this to me, Abs. Please.”
Her bottom lip trembles and a tear races down her cheek. “Trust me. I have zero desire to go over there and ruin your perfect little life. Just go, Rhett. You know you want to.”
I ache to stay with her but she’s now glaring daggers at me, the anger quickly snuffing out her hurt feelings. The last thing I want to do is leave her like this, but I’m afraid if I try to smooth things over with her, Angela will get antsy to see what I’m up to. It’ll all blow up.
My “perfect little world” will be obliterated.
This is all my fault.
I know what I need to do now.
Back away, leave her be, and stay the course.
Why does that make me feel like throwing the fuck up?
I’m a monster for doing this to her. It ends now.
“Bye, Abs,” I choke out. “I’m sorry.”
Her heartbreaking sob can be heard as I follow Riko out of her townhouse. I’m pretty sure he calls me a fucking idiot under his breath. Tell me something I don’t know, man.
Weeks later…
I’m trying to do life with Angela. Took her on some dates, had dinner too many times with her parents, talked about wedding venues for after my proposal. It’s all perfect on paper.
And yet, I can’t see how my future shakes out with her. When I try to look ahead, it’s not her face I see. It’s not her children I’m holding. It’s not in a massive home with pristine furniture no one’s allowed to sit on.
This future is cozy and soft and fun.
There are cats and coffee and Sprite.
A feisty momma and her baby boy Buck.
It’s so wrong. In fact, I confessed to Dad about a month ago and told him I’d slept with Angela’s sister.
I’d wanted his disappointment, his judgment, his wrath.
Instead, he was concerned for me and probed me about my love for Angela.
I even showed him the ring that was meant for her.
There was pity in his eyes, and I haven’t been able to shake it off since.
My phone buzzes with an incoming call and I sigh to see it’s Mom.
“Hey,” I say, voice gritty.
“Hello, Son. I heard through the grapevine you were going to propose to a Serengeti. Nice move. Don’t sign a prenup until I have my attorney look it over for you. If you marry into the family, we need to make sure you get what’s owed to you. Your dad certainly did.”
I ignore the dig at my father. Mom came from money and he didn’t. But he worked hard to get there. Now that they’re divorced, she never fails to remind him of the fact it was her money that got them started in life.
A chill races down my spine. It’s not lost on me how similar their beginning was to what I’ve got going on with Angela. Is that a warning? A sign of what’s to come?
No.
I am not my dad and Angela isn’t my mom.
I’m just slowly losing my shit right now.
Maybe I need to bite the bullet and propose.
It might keep me focused on my future rather than playing in a life that doesn’t fit me.
Hiding out with my secret baby momma is shameful.
For someone who’s succeeded in every aspect of his life, I sure feel like a fucking failure.
All I have to do is keep moving forward with Angela. That’s it.
Mom’s been rambling about God only knows what. I interrupt her and blurt out, “Sorry, Mom. Gotta go. I’m about to make this official.”
“You’ve got this,” she assures me. “I’m so proud of you. Marrying a Serengeti is a boss move. You get that from me.”
“Right. See you later, Mom.”
I end the call, dig out the ring box that’s made it from the car floorboards to my dresser drawer, and then head for my vehicle. Once inside, I toss it in the back seat and damn near peel out of my neighborhood. I’m afraid if I put it off any longer, I’m going to pussy out again.
This needs to happen.
I’m going to finally ask Angela to marry me.
It’s long overdue.
Bile creeps up my throat but I swallow it down. I drill into my head over and over and over that Angela Serengeti is my future. It’s not messy with her or confusing or stressful. I know what to expect. There’s relief in predictability. Everything I’ve mapped out can be checked off one by one.
No chaos or surprises.
Buck was a surprise and Abby’s pregnancy is turning out to be one of the most soul-fulfilling things ever to happen to you…
That thought gets shoved away deep where I can’t access it.
I blast music to keep my brain sharp and focused on the task ahead.
I drive to the country club where I know Angela will be with her family, but then…
keep driving. It’s as if my brain is being overridden by a strong, visceral need to go somewhere else.
The ring box rolls into the floor when I take a turn too quickly, eager to get to a different destination.
My heart knows the way.