Page 78 of Living Hell

TWENTY-SIX

Iona

“I’M SO TIRED,” I SAIDwith a yawn.

It was only ten o’clock in the morning, yet if my head hit a pillow, I’d be out cold within seconds.

Sitting on my living room couch, I tried my best to keep my eyes open as Cara went over our agenda for the day.

Did I get a full night’s rest last night? Yes. Did I get up super early this morning? No. The reason for my tiredness was the same reason I was avoiding Tyler—I was pregnant.

“Should I reschedule the interview with Gloss Magazine? And you’re to meet with the sheriff later this afternoon. Something about the parade,” Cara said in an irritatingly chipper voice.

I never realized just how grating the sound of happiness was until I became pregnant. Hearing people laugh only made me want to punch them. And don’t get me started on upbeat music. If I heard that, I’d throw up. Literally, upchuck.

“Are we telling the magazine yet about the you-know-who in the you-know-where?” Cara lowered her voice and pointed to my stomach.

I told her I was pregnant when I arrived home from the doctor’s five days ago. I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t schedule me for anything come summer.

That’s if this baby made it that long. My hands began to shake. When I thought about the due date, every fear I had about this pregnancy overwhelmed me. All the things that could go wrong turned my dreams into nightmares.

I woke up every morning in tears.

“No. Only you and Babette know about the bun in the oven.”

Cara’s head went back. “You haven’t said anything to Tyler? But he’s the father. Oh, wait . . . is he the father?” she whispered that last part.

I was thankful, Jake was outside waiting for the people from Gloss Magazine. I didn’t want Jake to find out before Tyler. Tyler should be told, I knew that, but every time I started to tell him I’d picture waking up alone with Tyler once again, gone from my life.

“Of course, he is but I want to do it right. You know, maybe film it or something. Like those cute little reaction videos they have online. Something like that.”

No, I didn’t. Tyler would hate for me if I used our baby for attention, but I had to come up with a reason so I didn’t have to tell Cara the truth. And that truth was that I was afraid I’d never see Tyler again if I told him.

By this time next week, I won’t be here anymore. I had a plan. I’d fly Tyler out West once or twice a month, and I’d come visit here the other weekends. We’d see each other every week. Once I started to show, I’d tell him I had to be on location and couldn’t see him for a while. And, maybe once the baby was born, I could bring the subject up with him. Ease him into it. If he wanted to be a part of the baby’s life, that would be great, but if not, then I could still see him and take care of my baby.

It wasn’t a perfect plan. Perhaps, it wasn’t even a decent plan. Okay, I’d admit it was a terrible plan, but I needed time to think about it.

How do people come to terms with having a baby when it happens so quickly? I mean, one second, I was walking around carrying unfertilized eggs and the next minute, bam, a sneaky sperm swam its way up my cervix and dove into my egg like it was invited to the party. Technically, it was, but I was hoping it would stay out of the VIP section.

“That sounds like a great idea. It will really win people over. That’s why I set up this interview. More for him than for you.”

All thoughts of my baby dissolved from my brain. Why would Tyler need to win people over?

“What?”

Cara chewed on her bottom lip. “Promise you won’t be mad . . . ?”

“How could I ever be mad at you, Cara? You’re the sweetest person on the planet.” I waved her over to the couch.

She hesitated, taking a step and pausing before finally settling next to me. “Let me preface this by letting you know that I was hurt by what you said about me, and that’s why I did it.”

My mind raced trying to think of what I might have said to hurt her. Maybe this had to do with me assuming I would do the web series she came up with.

“I’m sorry I thought you meant me for the series. I honestly believed—”

“No.” She held up her hand. “It wasn’t about the series, though that sort of rubbed salt into the wound. This had to do with you wanting to fire me.”

“Fire you!” I said that louder than I should. “I never said that I wanted to fire you. Whatever gave you that idea?”

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