CHAPTER TEN

RILEY

It’s been three weeks since I’ve seen Walker, but we’ve texted almost every day. I try not to respond during the day and hold off until night when I’m alone in bed. We haven’t done much sexting, and haven’t done that again, but we do flirt a little. Mostly, we keep our conversations brief and about work—mine—and random pop culture.

I still haven’t read his text from this morning. My stomach has been in knots, and until I find out the underlying cause, I ignore him. I stopped at CVS on my way home, my worry and fear swirling around me longer than the receipt the cashier handed me.

Kendall and Rowan should be here any minute with dinner. They have no idea why I called an emergency dinner meeting. I would have asked them over two nights ago when realization set in, but Rowan was working and I need both of them here for this.

My buzzer rings and I let them in.

“It’s been too long since we’ve done this.” Rowan greets me with a hug and sets the bag of our Chipotle dinners on the counter.

Kendall comes up behind her carrying two bottles of wine and a carton of ice cream next to it. “Since you won’t let us throw you a bachelorette party, I’m pretending that’s what tonight is all about.”

One week from today I’ll be walking down the aisle and marrying into a family that has money and power, but no love. My father wasn’t thrilled when Jackson and I stopped by last week with the news. Dad’s never around much, always on the road, and when he is home, he’s not much for conversation or affection.

There were no words of congratulations. Just a questioning scowl. “Didn’t think you were...the marrying type,” he’d said to Jackson. That was his way of beating around the bush about him being gay.

I don’t think my dad would care either way if Jackson was gay, if it weren’t for us getting married.

“Your daughter means the world to me, and there’s no other person I’d rather spend the rest of my life with,” Jackson had told him, which wasn’t a lie. Married or not, we’re friends for life.

The lies were built into our unsaid words. The same way I’ve been lying to Walker.

“Sorry to spoil your fun, but I’m not in a celebratory mood. I asked you guys over for a reason.” I take my Chipotle dinner Rowan holds out to me and they follow me to my tiny living room.

Kendall takes a seat on the floor in front of the coffee table and Rowan and I sit on the couch. I wait until we’ve all had a few bites of our dinner before dropping the bomb.

“I think I might be pregnant.”

Rowan coughs out her wine and wipes her chin. “You could have waited until I swallowed.”

“That’s what she said.” Kendall points her fork at me. “You told us you guys used protection.”

“We did. Except...”

“Hell. You sly dog. You did it.” Kendall holds up her glass to clink with my water bottle.

I close my eyes and lower my chin to my chest. “It was just the one time. When Walker realized he didn’t have a condom he promised to pull out.”

“He didn’t?” Rowan asks with a gasp.

“He did. I guess not soon enough.” I sink into the cushions and hug a pillow to my chest. “I have one working ovary, and less than a fifty percent chance of getting pregnant, and he barely trickles inside, and I get knocked up. A month before I’m to marry another man. My life is a fucking soap opera.”

“Oh, honey.” Rowan scoots closer to me. “Look at this as a blessing in disguise. You wanted to get pregnant. Jackson even encouraged you to get pregnant. He’ll be a great father.”

Kendall snorts. “No he won’t. He’ll be a fantastic godfather. Spoil the kid. Hire nannies. Make sure you and the baby are set for life. It’s kind of a dream of mine. Not that I want my own kids. Being surrounded by twenty kindergarteners six hours a day kinda kills the desire to raise my own humans. You, however, are going to be a kickass mom.”

“I don’t even know if I’m really pregnant yet. My period is always a mess, and I can’t remember the last time I had it. The stress from this wedding isn’t helping. It could be that.”

“You haven’t taken a test yet?” Rowan strokes my hair and gives my shoulders a hug.

I reach for the bag on the floor by the couch. “Not yet. I didn’t want to do this alone.”

“Not exactly the bachelorette party I envisioned.” Kendall rises to her feet and holds her hand out to me. “Let’s go pee on a stick, mama.”

Five minutes later, the three of us are sitting on the floor in my cramped bathroom staring at three tests, all with the same result.

“Well, shit.” Rowan lets out a sigh. “It’s not how you wanted this to happen, but you’ve always wanted to be a mother, Riley. This is good news.”

“One of your biggest worries about marrying Jackson was not having time to find a husband and get pregnant after you divorce in five years. Christ, that sounds all kinds of fucked up. You and Jackson counting down the years until you can divorce so he gets to keep his title and his trust fund, and you can find your forever man.”

“Now you don’t have to wait five years.” Rowan rests her head on my shoulder. “This baby is going to be so spoiled. By material things from Jackson, and so much love and attention from their aunties. We’re here for you, Riley. Anything you need, you name it.”

I shouldn’t be sad. I’m surrounded by the best friends a girl could ask for and will have financial support as well as moral support. The only thing missing is the baby’s father.

And love. I wanted my children to grow up in a stable home with two loving parents. Something I only had for a few years before cancer took my mother from us, and grief took my father from me.

“I love you guys.”

We go back to the couch and finish our dinners, although I no longer have an appetite. My phone vibrates on the table and we all stare at the screen. I told them what Walker programmed into my phone, and this is the first time they’ve seen Oh God flash on the screen.

“You’re not telling him,” Kendall states the obvious.

“I can’t. It’s not fair to him. I guess it’s not fair to him either way. I don’t tell him, and he never learns he has a child. I tell him, and he learns I was engaged while we were together and I’m getting married in a week. Our child will be raised by another man. It’s a lose-lose.”

“I didn’t realize how much you care for him,” Rowan says.

“I didn’t either.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you need to cut ties with him. No more sex on the side.”

“I know.” My phone vibrates again. It’s Walker. Again. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t.” Kendall takes my phone and flips it over. “Ghost him. Ignore him.”

“No. That’ll only make him more curious. What if he comes to Boston again for work? Riley can only hide her pregnancy for so long.”

I fold my hands over my flat stomach. I can’t imagine myself round with a little baby kicking inside of me.

“Then you need to end it with him. Tell him you met someone else. It’s not a total lie.” Kendall hands my phone to me.

“Just like that? We go from explosive sex to sexting and flirting almost every day to see you later?”

“You were sexting him?” Kendall shakes her head. “My little Riley is growing up right before my eyes.”

“Maybe break it to him slowly. Don’t respond to his texts right away and mention something about going out with friends a lot more. And you should probably stop the sexting and flirting. In a few days, you can tell him this long-distance thing is too hard. Let him know he’s a great guy and you wish him well in life.”

Rowan is always a wealth of knowledge and comfort. We’re usually on the same page. “I tried that once before, telling him long distance was hard. And I don’t respond to his texts right away.”

“What do you consider not right away?” Kendall lowers her gaze at me. “Ten minutes?”

“He texts during the day and I don’t respond until night.”

“When you’re in bed? Yeah. Way to let him know you’re not interested.” Kendall scowls. “So what’s the delay tactic when he texts you at night?” She points to the phone on my lap that vibrates again.

“You should do the Band-Aid method. Break it off with him now. Dragging it out is only going to make it harder,” Rowan says.

I huff out a sigh and flip my phone over and open the texts.

OH GOD: I’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?

OH GOD: Bad? Okay. I won’t get to see you this weekend.

OH GOD: Hm. No response. You’re either still at work, naked in the shower (please be naked in the shower. Or bed. Or anywhere) or you’re ignoring me. (shit. Now I sound desperate again)

OH GOD: I’m sure I’m killing you with suspense, so here’s the good. I’m flying into Boston on Wednesday and don’t have anything on my agenda until Friday afternoon. I’m hoping you can squeeze me in sometime. And by squeeze me in, I mean squeeze me. ;-)

“You’re white as a ghost.” Rowan squeezes my arm. “What did he say?”

I look up at my friends and a lone tear spills from the corner of my eye. “He’ll be here in three days.”

“Fuck.” Kendall polishes off her wine and paces my small quarters. “Actually, this is good. You can break it off with him in person. You’re not showing yet, so he won’t suspect anything.”

“It will be okay,” Rowan soothes.

“Will it? I turn to complete mush when I’m with him. He makes me forget about all this other shit I’m going through.”

“Want us with you? We can coincidentally bump into you two at a restaurant or something. Or maybe you can have dinner with Jackson and accidentally let it slip where you’ll be. Walker will see you two together and be heartbroken, but he’ll eventually move on.”

“I don’t know.” I bury my head in my hands.

“Are you worried about him finding out about Jackson or worried he’ll find out about the baby?” Kendall kneels in front of me. “Or are you hesitant because you don’t want to break things off with him?”

“All of the above.”

“Aren’t you and Jackson leaving for Rhode Island on Thursday anyway?” Rowan asks.

“Yeah.”

“Just ignore him?” Kendall offers.

“If I do that, he’ll show up at work and they’ll tell him I’m off for the long weekend to Rhode Island.”

“True. Alright. Here comes Kendall Wentworth’s tough lovin’. You’re going to text him back, tell him you’ll meet him at his hotel Wednesday night, shag the shit out of him, then tell him it’s been nice, but you’re looking for commitment and a husband, and he’s not able to fill that role living on the other side of the country. Also, he has too many red flags.”

“What are his red flags?”

“One, he hooked up with you within seconds of meeting you a few months ago. That’s not commitment or relationship material. Two, he keeps coming to Boston for his booty call, and it’s making you feel cheap.”

“You could say I have the same red flags since I’ve been an active participant.”

“Okay. Fine. Option B. Meet him at a restaurant. Tell him you’ve really enjoyed his company and would like to stay friends, but you met someone else, and geography is important to you. He’s a widower with a little girl and he’s made you realize how much you want to settle down and raise a family. Nothing like throwing in the settling down part to put a kibosh on the booty call.”

“I don't know if I can lie to him. He’ll see right through me.”

“You’ve only known him a few months, and in that time, only seen him a handful of times. Can he really see through you that easily?” Rowan asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Even so, I don’t like lying to anyone.”

“Technically,” Kendall adds. “It’s not lying. Except for the widower part. You can leave that out. Truth: you have realized how much you want to settle down and raise a family. Truth: in eight, seven months’ time, you’ll have a child.”

“His child.”

“Lying by omission isn’t as bad as a blatant lie.”

My gut churns and I’m not sure if it’s the food, my nerves, or the baby. Rowan picks my phone off my lap and hands it to me.

“Either way, you need to message him or he’s going to show up at work on Wednesday.”

I nod and take it from her. “I need some time to think about what to say. I’m going to take a bath and text him in a bit.”

“Want us to stay?” Rowan squeezes my hand.

“Thanks, but no. I need to figure this out on my own.”

“Figure it out on your own, but you’re not alone. Remember that.” Kendall picks up our dinner mess and tosses the containers in the trash while Rowan washes our glasses.

They give me a few more words of encouragement before they leave. I soak in the tub, stall by doing a thorough shaving job, then text Walker back once I’m curled up in bed.

ME: Sorry. I was out with friends. Wednesday sounds perfect. I’m going away Thursday through Sunday though. Can we meet for dinner Wed. after work?

He texts back immediately.

OH GOD: Any time I can get with you I’ll take.

He’s so freaking sweet.

And I’m a fucking two-faced liar scumbag ho.