Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Lolly

I wake up and reach out, but no one is there. AGAIN.

This time though, I’m not being greeted by disappointment or judgment. There’s just the delicious ache Ander’s left behind and a smile I can’t seem to wipe off my face. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.

I gingerly sit up and listen, but the apartment is silent. A part of me starts to panic but another part says I’m being silly. He probably left to pick his clothes up from Mom and Dad’s. I should get the hell up out of bed and start making him breakfast just in case he’s hungry when he gets back. And maybe if I’m early enough I can swing by the store on the corner and find us a small turkey so we can have Thanksgiving dinner together.

The very thought has me up and dressed in no time. I don’t even bother with a shower. Me and Ander can take one together when he gets home. I step out of the building and Ander’s truck is parked in one of the spots across the street. He’s not at Mom and Dad’s picking up his stuff.

He’s… sitting in his truck talking to my sister, who happens to be grinning like an idiot. She starts laughing and goes to lay her hand on his arm, batting her eyes at him. My heart cracks. I can feel it in my chest. The sharp pain brings tears to my eyes and leaves me feeling hollow.

Was I right all along? Was it just a big game between the two of them? Are they laughing at what an idiot I am? Is he telling her how clumsy I was last night, not knowing what I was doing?

I run! I don’t think, I just run! Thankfully I have the keys to the bakery and can let myself in. I don’t stop until I’m in the back surrounded by steel and tile. Everything is swirling around me and I feel like I can’t take a full breath without that pain echoing through me.

I sink to the floor and realize I’m sobbing, big loud sobs that echo through the room. It feels like I might die but it never happens, and I’m left with only the pain. I'm not sure how long I sat on the floor bawling or how I could cry for so long but eventually, I pull myself up and make my way over to the trash can where I vomit.

When I finally have enough sense to pull my phone out of my bag, I have ten missed calls from him and over a dozen texts. I delete all of them not wanting to know anything. How long were they going to keep the ruse up? Until I invited everyone to the wedding, and then find out that it was really theirs and I was stupid enough to think it was mine.

Not that I would marry the jerk. It’s just a worst-case scenario. That has me bawling again. I eventually delete all his contact info and call Bonbon to come pick me up. I don’t want to try to go back for my car and run into him. Or worse, run into the truck with fogged-up windows and rocking back and forth.

Just for good measure, I vomit again.

I can tell Bonny knows something is up, but she doesn’t say a word. I send her back to my apartment so she can pack a bag for me and bring it to me. I spend the rest of the weekend in a hotel, crying and puking. By Monday, I put a plan together for the next phase of my life - no family, no place to stay since I’m not going back to that apartment or the farm, and no heart since I gave it to that fucker.

I eventually sneak back to box up all my stuff with the help of Bonbon and Candy and their men. I move into a small house on the edge of town and think about getting a cat. Time passes - three weeks to be exact - and then my world falls apart again.

I wake up sick four mornings in a row and by the fifth, my stomach drops from my body, or at least it feels like it does. I’ve been around Candy and Bonny enough to recognize what being sick in the morning and fine the rest of the day means. Only I’m not fine the rest of the day. I start throwing up constantly which prompts me to buy a test… okay, a buggy full of tests. Either the worst is happening or I’m sick with something incurable.

When I pee on the stick my hands are shaking so badly, I drop the first one. I toss the second one in the toilet because I don’t like the response but then I fish it out and throw it away. I take another and then another just so I can be sure. Every test - except the first one I dropped before peeing on it - says the same thing.

I’m pregnant.

I start crying and can’t help comparing myself to my stupid sister. How could I let this happen? I barely knew Ander. And now…what? I’m going to tell him we can co-parent while he laughs at me while boning my sister. The thought has my stomach turning.

And what the hell am I supposed to do when I’m working? How am I supposed to make things work so I can give this baby the life he or she deserves? I take a deep breath and remember my friends. I’m not alone…and my baby daddy isn’t in jail in Singapore for trying to transport illegal drugs through the airport because he was running away from the responsibility of knocking me up -which makes him an utter fuck boy- so I’m not just like my sister.

My hand drops to my stomach and I start talking to my baby. Whatever comes, we’ll get through it together because I’m not alone. I have my friends…and I have my baby. We’ll make it work. And I won’t ever let the kid question whether they are loved or not. My baby will never feel like they can't come to me for anything. I’ll be a good parent because my parents showed me what not to be with how they treated me. And with Candy and Bonbon preggers too we can all raise our babies together.

The only thing missing...is Ander. The smile melts off my face and I go lay on the bed, too worn out to even cry.

I only knew him for a matter of days, but he changed my life. I’ll never be the same. He gave me a baby and took my heart in return. I lay and think of all the things I want to do for my baby, all the things I want to give him or her. It might hurt like hell, but it’ll be worth it. This little baby is worth the pain.

But how the hell am I going to tell the man when I deleted his number and ran away from him? And will he try to take the baby like he took my heart? The thought has my heart thudding hard in my chest. Would Ander be that cruel? Would he try to use the baby to hurt me? Mom used to do that with Cammie against Dad all the time. And I don't really know the man.

Maybe…maybe waiting until after I’ve had the baby is smarter. Or after the baby is a little older. Or never.

No! I need to at least give Ander a chance and give my baby the opportunity to have a father in their life. But how? Make an appointment? Call his office?

I snarl my nose at the thought of telling his secretary before I tell anyone else. Shouldn’t he be the first one I tell and then my besties? Not his assistant. Maybe I could write him a letter or an email. No matter how I do it, at least I have time to make sure it’s the right decision.