33. Tish

Chapter Thirty-Three

Tish

There was a light knock on my door. "Come in!" I called out.

Phoebe peered around the door. The moment she met my eyes, her smile faded. She stepped into my office quickly and closed the door behind her. "What's going on?"

I opened my mouth to hedge, to find a way to be socially appropriate. Instead, I burst into tears.

Phoebe was at my desk in a flash, rounding it to lean down and hug me. "What happened?" She stepped back, lingering beside my desk, her worried gaze patient.

I took a sniffling breath. She reached for the box of tissues on the corner of my desk, handing me one quickly. I blew my nose before looking at her again. I tried to smile, but my lips wobbled.

She sat down in the chair across from me. "You're not prone to bursting into tears. Tell me what's going on. Can I help?"

I blew my nose again and wiped the tears off my cheeks. I had been vague about Teddy's father. I studied her for a moment, trying to gather my nerve. Although I knew in my gut what he'd done was a huge violation, it seemed small. I knew minimizing and dismissing the actions of men was par for the course. It often felt like the world wanted us to give shitty men a pass.

"You know how Teddy's father ghosted me?"

Phoebe nodded. "Yeah. Asshole."

"He's definitely an asshole. In a way, it's been a relief because I didn't have to deal with what to do if he didn't ghost me. You know how I got pregnant. When I confronted him, that was the last time we talked. I have crazy mixed feelings about it, I don't know what to do." I sighed and shook my head almost to myself.

When I glanced up at Phoebe, she looked calmly furious. "He's a fucking asshole, but we already knew that. Did he say where he was in his voicemail?"

I shook my head. "He's a commercial fisherman. Well, he was. I don't even know if he is still doing it, but he was in Fireweed Harbor for the fishing season when we met." I shrugged. "Anyway, all he said was his parents want to meet Teddy. I just got off the phone with Colin Blackthorne."

"Colin will handle it for you. He's a good attorney," she said firmly.

"I'm sure he is. I just don't know what to tell Paul's parents. I'm not against them having contact, but I don't want them to pressure me around Paul."

"Tell them what happened. Their response will tell you what kind of people they are," she said.

"That's a good point," I said slowly.

"Tell me if I'm being pushy, but I think you should just go ahead and call. I'm a run-straight-at-the-problem kind of person."

I smiled over at my friend. "You're also a trained hotshot firefighter."

Phoebe's eyes twinkled. "What do you think?"

Just as I was contemplating if I had the nerve to make that call right now, my phone vibrated with another call. As soon as I glanced down at the screen, the anxiety and nausea that I was barely keeping at bay started churning at high speed.

"Who is it?" Phoebe pressed.

"Paul," I said flatly.

After the call went to voicemail, I stared down at my phone as if it were a venomous snake about to strike. "You think I should just play the message?"

"Play it." Phoebe's calm tone helped me.

Nausea burned my throat as I tapped the screen and hit play. Just to follow up, I don't want to be involved, but my parents do. I'll file for custody if I need to so they can have visits.

Phoebe's eyes narrowed, flashing with her anger. "What a fucking loser. You've already talked to Colin. Let him handle this."

I got through my day, telling myself it would be fine, that somehow Colin would straighten this out for me. I'd updated Colin about the second message from Paul and provided his contact information.

Late that afternoon, he called me with an update. "He's worried about child support," Colin said.

My laugh was bitter. "I don't want any money from him, but I want everyone to know the truth."

"About how you got pregnant?" Colin prompted.

"Yes. His parents can have visits, but they'll have to hear why I don't want Paul involved."

"Understood."

I felt so stupid, so painfully stupid. This whole thing brought up so many feelings of shame and embarrassment.

That night, I missed Griffin. Badly. I missed him most of the time, but I was able to put it to the back of my thoughts when I was busy at work. But tonight, my heart ached with it. I wanted his strength, the way his presence comforted me.

I didn't know when he would get my text, but I sent it anyway.

Me: I miss you.