Page 58 of Wish You Would

I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, the faint sound of the front door closing echoing off the walls. I situp, wipe the tears from my eyes and try to gather the courage to go and talk to him. Delaying this conversation will only make it more difficult so I push off the bed and force myself out of my bedroom door and down the hall.

My stomach is in my throat, the air feels so warm and thick, it’s hard to breathe. I’m not sure if it’s the heatwave that continues to pummel Reed Point or just my fried nerves.

I find Holden sitting on an armchair in the living room, untying the laces on his runners. When he looks up and begins to talk, I realize he’s not alone. Tucker is sitting on the couch across from him, taking a long drink from his water bottle. They must have been out at a baseball game. Holden and the guys play on a local beer league team.

“Oh, sorry… I didn’t realize…” I stammer like an idiot. “Hey, Tucker… um, I’ll just talk to you later, Holden.” A heavy silence stretches between Holden and I as our eyes lock. It’s like he knows I have something to say. But this is obviously not the right time. I jerk my thumb towards my bedroom. “I’m going to go—"

Holden holds up his hand. “Um, Tuck. I need to…uh…”

“Yeah, I need to get going. Daisy is waiting for me. See ya, Briar. I’ll talk to you later, man.” Tucker escapes out the front door, leaving Holden and I all alone.

My pulse hammers under my skin. The intensity of his deep-green eyes on mine unsettles me, and the contents of my stomach threaten to empty right here on the hardwood.

What do I do now? How do I tell him?

Holden stands up, a concerned expression on his face. Even though he’s been distant for weeks, he cares. He knows something is wrong.

I haven’t forgotten how beautiful he is, but it feels likeeons since I have been this close to him.My god,he is handsome. Way better looking than anyone has a right to be.

It feels like all the air is sucked from the room, and the silence between us stretches on until Holden finally breaks it.

“Is everything okay? You look like something is wrong.”

I blink, completely unsure as to how I should start this. I stand in front of Holden on trembling legs feeling green and pale and scared to death, but I need to tell him. I take a deep breath, then look him in the eye.

“I’m pregnant.”

FIFTEEN

WHAT DO I KNOW ABOUT HAVING A BABY?

Holden

She’s pregnant.

The second she walked into the room I knew there was something wrong. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her body, her skin pale. I could tell by the way she was looking at me that she had something she needed to say. But never in my wildest dreams did I think she would announce that she’s pregnant.

Fuck.Pregnant.Briar is pregnant.

I walk into the kitchen and reach above the fridge for the liquor cabinet, grabbing a bottle of whiskey.

Briar ran for the bathroom holding her stomach after she dropped the proverbial bomb on me. When I followed her down the hall to see if I could help her, she slammed the door in my face and told me she was fine. Then I heard the sounds of her vomiting into the toilet.

Rather than stand there and listen to her heave, I walked to the kitchen to give her some privacy, deciding I needed a drink. Or ten.

Dammit.How could she be pregnant? We used acondom. We took precautions. We did what we were supposed to do.

Briar’s confession is still ringing in my ears when I chug back the tumbler of alcohol and let it burn its way down the length of my throat. I finish every last drop before refilling the glass and throwing it back again.

What the fuck am I going to do? I have no clue, but what I do know is that the whiskey is going to numb this throbbing pain in my brain. But then I remember Briar is in my bathroom having to deal with this alone.

I might not want to be a dad, but I’m not an asshole and I’m not going to just leave her to shoulder this by herself.

So, I walk back to the bathroom door, feeling unsteady as I go. I’m not sure if it’s from the whiskey or the fact that Briar is pregnant with my child.

Fuck.There’s that word again.That word.Pregnant.

How long has she known? It’s been around four weeks since that night together. I know this because I’ve counted the weeks off on my calendar like some lovesick idiot. Four weeks of trying to forget one of the best nights of my life.

---