Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Ainsley

PK: Did you take care of it?

PK: Answer the fucking phone.

PK: You're going to regret this.

PK: Please, AJ, I need you. Don't ruin us.

PK: You're taking advantage because I'm on tour, but as soon as I get home, you'll pay for this.

PK: You're going to regret this.

PK: Answer your fucking phone!

PK: I told you you'd pay. I fired the maid. I won't be paying the utilities or any of the expenses.

PK: You're going to regret this.

PK: I'm the only person who gives a shit about you.

PK: If you beg nicely, I might forgive you.

PK: You're going to regret this.

PK: Did you take care of the problem?

PK: I'm dying without you. Please answer the phone, baby.

I stare at my phone. Reading all the messages I've ignored since Monday. Porter keeps texting and calling. I think my voicemail is full. Maybe I should delete them, but if I do, then he'll have more space to leave spiteful messages. Not that I know what's in them. I don't want to listen to any of them. Every word he types or says is a slap to the face, a knife stabbing my heart.

I'm between a rock and a hard place. The knowledge that he's hurting is killing me, but I can't give him what he wants. My baby is just as important, if not more.

Am I scared of him? Only when I read those texts where he says, " PK: You're going to regret this. "

Those five words are on repeat. I can't shake them. They're like the bad chorus of a horrible song that's so awful everyone keeps singing it. And the fear…

Can he do something? I don't know.

He's right about one thing. He's the only person who cares about me. For the past four years, he's been my one constant—the one who pays attention to me.

My parents… well I haven't seen them since the school year started. They didn't care that I spent Christmas alone in Austin. Neither one of them bothered to send me a present. They expected me to be in Albany, like every year.

Porter was supposed to spend it with me, but his plane got stuck in New York, and he ended up spending the holidays with my family.

The irony.

"Don't worry about anything. You have me. I'll love you enough that you will never think something is missing in your life," I assure the baby while making my way toward the kitchen. "I'm meeting you today."

My heart is filled with excitement. After breakfast, I'll take a shower and drive to the doctor. I'm about to open the fridge when the doorbell rings.

I freeze. My heart thumps fast.

What if it's Porter?

"It can't be him," I assure myself. "He has a key. If he wants to enter…"

I have to move out of the house. It's his place. The doorbell stops my train of thought. I make my way to the entry, and I sigh in relief when I open the door. "Hi, Mason."

"You don't sound very excited to see me." He quirks an eyebrow. "Were you expecting Iron Man?"

I chuckle. "You're not a superhero."

"If you say so." He winks. "Are you ready to go?"

"No. I was going to make myself some breakfast first," I tell him.

He nods a couple of times. "Your appointment is in less than ninety minutes. Why don't we hurry?"

I stare at him for a couple of seconds. His dark hair is cut short. Buzz-cut short. Until now, I haven't noticed that his shoulders are broader and his arms stronger.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were part of the military," I joke.

Something flashes in his eyes, but it disappears immediately. "Let's hurry up, Nine."

"Thank you for coming. I didn't know I needed this until now."

As we walk toward the kitchen, he says, "You have to tell your family."

I scoff. "Like they care."

Porter was the only person who has cared about me for the past four years. But did he really? I feel even lonelier. Sure, Mason is here, but he's going to disappear soon. I never thought I'd be twenty-one, pregnant, and alone. Will I be able to get through this?

"Relax," Mason says reassuringly. "Everything is going to be okay."

Can you say uncomfortable?

If I wanted to have something stuck inside my vagina, I would've bought a vibrator. A transvaginal ultrasound was the last thing I expected to have today, but here we are. Being half-naked next to my best friend makes me feel… well, awkward and self-conscious. He's used to older, beautiful women. Not… well, me.

"Nine weeks and four days," the technician says as she moves the wand. "Here's the head, arms, spine…"

I'm trying to follow her descriptions, but all I see is a grainy image of a lima bean with tiny arms and legs. Am I supposed to see more than that?

"Are you ready to hear it?" she asks.

"Umm, what?" I ask, feeling inadequate. This is like being in the middle of a surprise oral exam.

I'm not ready.

I'm going to fail.

But my lips transform into a smile when I listen to the rhythm of a thump-thump-thump.

Thump-thump-thump.

Thump-thump-thump.

It's so clear—as clear as the bass drum.

It's perfect, unique… I could compose an entire piece out of something so pure.

"The heartbeat," she says, but I already know it. It's proof that perfection can be created during the worst of times. And that sound is all I need to switch my own beat.

I don't realize I'm crying until Mason swipes the corner of my eye with his thumb. "It's going to be okay," he assures me.

"I know. Do you hear it? It's perfect."

He looks at me with so much tenderness. "Like you."

I don't know what I'm going to do with my future, but I'll figure it out—for this baby.