Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
I nod in understanding, feeling slightly better since that means it’s been fifteen years since they were together.
“If you aren’t comfortable with her staying with us …”
“It’s fine,” I say, refusing to be the bad guy. “Like you said, you’re her only family, and anyway,” I choke out, “you don’t need my permission. I don’t even live there.”
I pull out the key to his house from my purse and hand it to him. “In case she needs it.”
Shane shakes his head. “That’s your key, Kins. Besides, she won’t be there for long. Only until she’s recovered and the doctor has given her the green light to travel on her own.”
We head back inside, and Shane lets Taylor and Jamie know that Jamie is welcome to stay to recover. Jamie smiles warmly at Shane, and Taylor cheers.
“This is going to be so fun!” Taylor exclaims. “We can watch movies, and I can show you all my favorite books. It sucks we didn’t get to go away, but at least we’ll get to spend time together.”
My stomach sinks as I imagine the three of them in Shane’s house. Will he cook breakfast for her the way he does for me? Will they lounge on the couch together and watch movies as a family?
What will happen when Taylor finds out about this baby? She said she was on board with it before, but how will she react now? Will she think I’m trying to encroach on her family? Will she resent me and the baby? This will be the first time Taylor’s ever had her parents under the same roof. How could she not want that? Doesn’t every child want their parents to be together?
My hand goes to my belly, and I wonder for a moment if this is punishment for what I did to my husband and baby. I fucked up my chance at a family, and now, here I am, pregnant with Shane’s baby, thinking about us becoming a family when the fact is, he already has one. And who the hell am I to make him choose? What makes me and this baby more important than Taylor?
“Kins,” Shane says softly. “Everything okay?”
“I need to go,” I murmur, plastering on a fake smile. “I forgot I have an appointment.”
It’s not a complete lie … at least it won’t be once I text my therapist, requesting an emergency therapy session because of my intrusive thoughts that I know aren’t realistic but still feel real anyway.
“Okay.” And then as if he just remembered, he adds, “How did your doctor’s appointment go?”
“Fine,” I say vaguely since now isn’t the time to tell him that I’m pregnant.
He has enough going on, and the last thing he needs is to add the stress of me being pregnant to the equation.
He looks at me for several seconds, and I can tell he’s trying to figure out what I’m hiding, but then he sighs and says, “I love you, Kins.”
I say the words back, but for some reason, as the words leave my lips, instead of us sharing how we feel about each other, it feels like we’re saying goodbye.
THIRTY-THREE
Kinsley
Shane
I need to see you.
Shane
I miss you.
It’s been a week since Taylor and her mom were discharged.
Since I found out I was pregnant.
Since I thought I would be moving in with Shane and Taylor, but instead, Jamie moved in.
Because we were supposed to be out of town, I didn’t have any work scheduled, so I’ve been spending time in the pool house.
Shane has reached out several times, but I couldn’t bring myself to see him, to force him to choose between his recovering daughter and baby mama and me. So, I’ve been avoiding him. And in doing so, I’ve sunk into a weird sort of depressive state. My therapist says it’s self-sabotage.
Instead of speaking to Shane about my feelings, I’m letting my mind wander to crazy worst-case scenarios. I know it’s not healthy, but I’ve allowed myself to go down that dark road.
Shane
I’m coming over.
When his text comes through, I consider telling him not to, but the truth is, I really miss him. Being here, alone, without him and Taylor and Becky, has been hard. I used to crave the quiet, and now, I resent it. I got used to sleeping with Shane’s body wrapped around mine, and now, my bed feels cold and lonely.
A few minutes later, Shane’s knocking on my door, and it hits me that I haven’t showered in a few days. My hair is a mess, and I’m wearing ratty pajamas.
Another knock, and I get up, resigned to him seeing me like this because it’s too late to do anything about it now.
I quickly fix my hair the best I can in the mirror, plaster on a fake smile, and open the door, hoping he won’t see right through me.