Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
“Sorry, bad joke.” I set my wrap down, chuckling. “First of all, how are you feeling?”
“So not pregnant.” Layla laughed, tears clinging to her lashes. “I mean, a little bloated. And a lot constipated . . . okay, I feel like I should not give all this TMI to my hookup.”
“There’s no such thing as TMI between you and the father of your child.” I couldn’t believe these words had left my mouth. “I want to know everything. And I want to be a part of the child’s life. In any capacity you’ll have me. Financially too. I’ll make sure you’ll both never want for anything. We’re in this together.”
She nodded, her chin quivering. “Thank you for handling this so . . . well. Especially since I was the dumbass who thought it was a great idea to ditch the condom.”
“Hey, I was there when it happened. A very willing participant in the conception,” I reminded her. “If you remember, I’d proposed ditching the condom at least a dozen times before. You were the one who was adamant about keeping it.”
I felt guilty, because I liked the idea that she was pregnant, even if it wasn’t planned. Something that’d tie our destinies together, no matter what curveballs life threw at us.
Suddenly, the clock stopped ticking. I no longer had an expiration date. Layla and I were an unbreakable unit.
Layla wasn’t ready for a relationship, and I had a feeling that piece of work Connor was the reason behind that. But this meant we’d be around each other for many years to come. If she ever would be ready, in a future near or far, guess who’d be waiting in the wings?
Not Connor.
Speaking of the devil . . .
“Side note, but you never told me what happened with Kellianne.” I picked out a piece of tomato and tossed it into my mouth.
“Oh, she quit the day after the wedding. Via email.” Layla took a pull of her sparkling water, then gave the can an accusive wince. “Sparkling water tastes like a burp. Do people not realize that?”
I laughed. “Focus. She resigned?”
“Yeah. But not before sending me a four-thousand-word email telling me I was a horrible person in need of acute therapy. She also said I was jealous, a sore loser, and past my prime.”
“Did you answer?”
She gave me a Do you even know me? look.
“I apologized for the scene I caused, stood my ground that her husband was a terrible human, promised her I despised him so much that I wouldn’t let him sniff my used underwear if the future of humanity depended on it, and wished them a very happy and functional life together, because they’d need it.”
“These two sound like they are perfect for each other.” I arched an eyebrow. “I’m glad they followed through with the wedding.”
She laughed. Then started to cry. It was a quiet kind of cry. Just tears running down her cheeks. “Oh my God, what is wrong with me?” She wiped at her face quickly. “I don’t understand why I’m so upset when we’re both handling this so well.”
“Your body’s going through a lot right now,” I reminded her, itching to touch her, to comfort her. “And this is going to change our lives forever. It’s natural to feel overwhelmed. It means that you understand how monumental this is.”
“So monumental.” She stabbed her plastic fork into the food without eating it. I made a mental note to DoorDash pastries to her house. She couldn’t resist pastries, and I wanted her to eat something she liked. “I’m already a changed woman, and the little peanut is not even the size of a fingernail. No orange juice, no sushi, no cold meats—you know I love my meats.”
We both laughed.
“Have you booked your first ultrasound appointment yet?” I didn’t want to be overbearing, but I wanted to be there. I wanted to be there for all the little moments. The big ones too.
“I did, actually. The ob-gyn’s office is literally next door. I think she delivers babies here in Boll—”
“Hey! Did you get my email?” A hip leaned against our table. I looked up to find Jessica beaming down at me, holding coconut water and an energy bar. “About the property tour in Rochester? It’s two weeks away.”
Jessica’s field was pediatric oncology, and though she hadn’t formally accepted a position at the Mayo Clinic, she’d taken on a role as a quality control physician for the Cancer Committee there, which meant she was going to divide her time between Minnesota and New York.
Which reminded me, I still had to move to another state. An idea that suddenly felt two lifetimes away from my current self.
“Oh, hi! Sorry, I didn’t see you.” Jessica waved at Layla, oblivious to the situation she’d just walked in on. “I’m Jessica.” She thrust her hand in my baby momma’s direction.