Page 92 of My Favorite Lost Cause
Elijah’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Hey now, it can’t be all that bad. I thought…didn’t youwantto be pregnant?”
I nod, still crying. I did. So much. But not like this. Not by losing every other thing that makes me happy, by which I mean Charlie. “It’s just…a fucked up situation.”
“Because you’re having your brother’s kid,” Elijah says.
“He’s not mybrother,and he’s…wait, how did you know?”
Elijah releases a quiet laugh. “You two are the only people in the world who think it’ssubtle. What did Charlie say?”
I freeze, then dry my eyes on the sleeve of my shirt. “I haven’t told him. I don’t know if I can, so please don’t say anything. You know what he said once? That my infertility was the sexiest thing about me. I mean, he was trying to make me feel better, but he also meant it.” I release a sad laugh and hiccup on another sob. “He really, really doesn’t want kids. He’s going to feel tricked.”
He gently leads me to a chair and encourages me to sit before he crouches in front of me. “Maren, you know him better than that, and you’ve got to tell him. You know that he’ll do the right thing.”
“That’s the problem, though. I don’twanthim to do the right thing. I want him to be as thrilled as I am, and he won’t be. He’ll be the opposite.”
I don’t want to condemn Charlie to that life, and I don’t want to condemn myself to marrying a guy who never wanted any of the things I did in the first place. It would be easier just to do it alone.
He rises and begins to pace, his hands linked behind his head. I suspect he doesn’t like my answer, but also knows I’m correct. “So, what are you going to do?” he asks.
I really have no idea. Charlie made it pretty fucking clear this morning where he stands on having children—and it’s where he’s always stood. So I either tell him and make him miserable or…I find a way to let him off the hook.
If I leave, if I go away for a year and have the baby somewhere thousands of miles from Manhattan, I might be able to pull it off. I can lie about the birth date or just say she arrived early.
Will Charlie believe that? I don’t know.
Or…I suppose there’s Andrew. He was ready to be with me in any way he could. Does he want me enough to pretend someone else’s kid is his own? Do I want to protect Charlie enough to go along with the ruse, to marry some guy I like but barely know? I’m so tired right now I can’t even think straight, but I’m not going to think any straighter here with Charlie breaking my heart every time he comes into view.
“I’m going to Barcelona early,” I say, sitting up straight. “And if I can come up with a believable way to let Charlie off the hook, that’s what I’m going to do.”
42
CHARLIE
Ispend the day with Elijah down in the basement, fixing the most recent water damage and going over this morning’s conversation in my head. I’m not sure what’s going to happen when I’m in San Antonio and she’s in New York. I know for a fact that I’m going to lose my fucking mind if I have to watch her with someone else. But I also know that I can’t give her the things she wants.
“What’s up with you today?” Elijah asks. “You’re contemplative.”
“Contemplative?” I ask. “Is that from your word-of-the-day calendar?”
“Contemplative and also a fucking asshole,” Elijah adds.
I shrug. “I had a weird conversation with Maren this morning. Something’s going on with her.”
“Something like you’re sleeping together and basically functioning like husband and wife while pretending you’re not together?”
I could deny it, but why bother? He’d know I was lying. Anyone who has ever seen me around Maren probably wouldrealize it was a lie. I can barely keep my hands off her. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“All I’m gonna say before I pretend we never had this conversation is that you’d better lock that down before someone else does.”
If there was some way to lock it down, I would’ve done it a decade ago.
I go upstairs to shower before I hunt for her. She’s usually found somewhere downstairs with the dogs at her heels, but when she’s not there, I go to the cottage.
The door swings open and I freeze at the threshold.
The dogs are gone. The bed is stripped. A single sheet of paper rests on the mattress.
Charlie,
