Chapter 7

SEVEN

I’m three bites into a pint of ice cream while stupid tears fall down my cheeks when there’s a knock on my door. Checking the clock, I can guess who it is and put my ice cream down on my coffee table before going to the door. Sure enough, standing on the other side is Blaire.

As soon as she sees my tearstained cheeks, her worried expression shifts to one of pure rage. “I’m going to kick his ass. What did he say to you?”

She doesn’t ask for an invitation as she moves past me into my apartment. I close my door and then go back to the couch, settling in the corner and pulling my favorite super-soft throw blanket over my legs before I grab my pint of ice cream and bury my spoon in it.

“I didn’t talk to him. His doorman wouldn’t let me up.”

Her mouth parts in indignation. “What the hell? Shouldn’t that be up to the tenant?”

I shrug and nibble my lip, tears of frustration brimming in my eyes again and my appetite completely vanishing. Goddamn, I’m sick of crying. I’m stronger than this, but for the last two weeks I’ve been crazy emotional. It was one of the first things that tipped me off that my late period might be more than just stress related. I am not normally someone who cries at the drop of a hat. Before being pregnant, I barely cried at all. I learned at a young age that tears didn’t solve anything, so they didn’t seem worth my time. And now I can’t stop the damn things from streaming out of my eyes at the slightest inconvenience.

“Oh, Lexi. I’m so sorry.” She moves to the couch, snuggling next to me and wrapping her arms around me. The second she squeezes me, the dam bursts and the tears come pouring out in heaving sobs. She doesn’t try to tell me it’ll be okay, and I’m grateful for that.

Blaire’s the only person I’ve been brave enough to tell. I don’t really have anyone else anyway.When the time comes, I’m not sure how I’m going to explain to my principal—or my students—that I’m pregnant. I’m not ready for the deluge of questions I’ll get about the baby’s father. My students are already way too invested in finding out if I’m dating someone, even when I do everything in my power to maintain boundaries and never talk about my personal life. The gossips in the staff room will have a field day at lunches when it comes out. I can already hear the murmurs and judgment now.

There’s a reason Blaire and I tend to eat lunch together in one of our classrooms instead of going to the staff lounge.

The sobs start to slow, and Blaire grabs a tissue for me from the box on my coffee table.

“Thanks,” I mumble before blowing my nose. I look over at her to find her staring at me with her bottom lip between her teeth.“What?”

“I think you should go back,” she says.

“Really?” I was thinking I’d avoid him for another week or two—or ten—and maybe leave it up to fate. If we’re supposed to see each other again, we will.

“Yeah, I mean, if it was the doorman that kept you from going up and not him, then maybe he’d want to see you. But you won’t know if you don’t go back and try again.”

I drop my head to the back of the couch and let out a heavy sigh. “I know you’re right, but I also really hate that you’re right. It was embarrassing.” My voice cracks and I take a minute to get my emotions under control before I continue. “I’ve never felt more like trash than I did in that moment, and that’s really saying something.”

“But Ty didn’t make you feel that way.”

“No,” I say, staring at the ceiling. “I’ve wondered a lot about what would’ve happened if I had stayed.”

“The next morning?”

“Yeah,” I say.

“Why didn’t you?”

I shrug and then look at her. “He was perfect.”

“No one is perfect, hon.”

“You don’t understand. He wasn’t pushy. He wasn’t controlling. He wasn’t mean or selfish. He was giving and complimentary. He made me feel like I was a gift. Do you know how many men have made me feel that way in my life? None. Not a single one has made me feel anything but used after sex. I was simply a body that helped them get off. It wasn’t like that with Ty, and maybe I wanted to sneak away before he could ruin that for me. I want that memory of the guy who put my pleasure first. The guy who made me feel cherished while still being a fucking animal in bed. I mean, he’s a freaking unicorn. Why would I stay so he could ruin the image and show me he’s just a horse with a horn superglued to his head?”

Blaire’s serious expression breaks as she bursts into laughter, which only causes me to also start giggling. “What a visual,” she says between fits of laughter.

I slap her arm. “Well, you asked.”

She sags back against the couch, her pose mirroring mine. “I still think you should go back and try again. I could go with you if you need backup.”

I grab her hand and squeeze it once. “Thanks, but I think I should do this on my own.”

I’ve done everything else on my own up to this point. If I’m about to be a mom then I need to do hard things without help, especially if Ty decides he doesn’t want anything to do with me or the baby.

The building seems taller and even more intimidating when I show up the next day. I stay in my car parked just down the street and chew on my lip while my heart races chaotically in my chest. This has to work. If it doesn’t, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m not putting myself through a third round of humiliation, that’s for sure. Twisting my keys out of the ignition, I grab my purse and open my door, forcing myself to get out of the car.

Each step closer to the building adds a weight to my chest, but I keep trudging forward. When I reach the doors, the same doorman from yesterday stands at his station inside, his head down. Pushing my shoulders back, I lift my head high and hope I give off an air of confidence even if I’m trembling on the inside.

When I pull the door open, the doorman looks up, and I swear relief seems to cross his face before he holds his finger up and picks up a phone. I stand just inside the door, waiting for him to get off the phone so I can ask him about seeing Ty, all while nerves tangle like knots in my stomach. He mumbles as he talks so I can’t hear what he’s saying. I try not to let my shoulders drop and keep a confident air that is one hundred percent fake. I need to act like I belong here and have a right to see Ty or else this man will kick me out just like he did yesterday, and I’ll be out of options.I have no other way to tell him about the baby if this doesn’t work.

He sets the phone down and focuses his attention on me. I step forward, opening my mouth to tell him why I’m here when he speaks. “You can go on up. He’s expecting you.”

That takes me aback, and I swallow down the words that were right on the tip of my tongue. “Ty?” I clarify.

The doorman’s expression narrows. “Were you here to see someone else?” The judgment from yesterday is back in his tone, and I try not to bristle.

“No.”

He nods, but his jaw clenches, and I know exactly what this man thinks of me. “Go on up.”

Nerves swirl in my belly as my shame skyrockets. I was in such a rush to leave the next morning—my exhaustion so heavy, I barely remember leaving—and too enamored with Ty the night we were together that I didn’t pay attention to his apartment number. And now I feel exactly like the type of woman this doorman thinks I am.

“Can you tell me his apartment number?” I try to push strength and authority into my voice, but I fail spectacularly when it comes out weak.

“The penthouse, miss.”

The penthouse. No wonder he’s looking at me like I’m a gold digger. I could tell Ty was wealthy from his apartment, but I didn’t realize it was the damn penthouse. Suddenly new doubts start to rise. Who is this guy? What if he fights me for custody?

Oh my God, would he take my baby from me?

New fears slither in between all the existing fears I already carry as I take unsteady steps to the elevators. When I get in and spin around to press the giant P at the top of the panel, I catch the doorman watching me carefully, and I’m wondering if it’s too late to run out of here and live my life without Ty ever knowing I had his kid.

But then the doors slide closed and the elevator rises swiftly, taking any chance of escape away.