Page 25 of A Very Oceanport Christmas
That thought was somehow even worse, but once I'd had it, I couldn't shake it. Was what I'd done really so out of character, from an outsider's perspective? I'd always screwed up and done stupid things without thinking. There were a lot of things I was known for, but making wise choices wasn't one of them.
Hot shame took over me. My stomach curled in on itself and I knew I wouldn't be able to get another bite of food down. There was no space for it inside of me. Not while this feeling of dread unfolded in my belly and took up every inch of my body. Bile rose in my throat as if my stomach wanted to force out even the little bit of cake I'd already eaten.
"Excuse me," I managed to make myself say as I rose from my seat. Nobody stopped me as I made my way to the back of the store and out through the door that connected the ice cream parlor with David's family's living space.
I could have gone to the men's room inside the ice cream parlor, but I wanted out.
Kneeling in front of the toilet of the guest bathroom, I waited for my food to come back up, but nothing happened. I wasn't even sure if I was relieved not to be throwing up.
For the most part, I just felt ashamed as I sat there.
Ashamed of the way I'd gotten pregnant. Ashamed of the way I'd left the party.
I exhaled, trying to calm myself down. It was okay. Everything was okay. People knew now that I had no idea who the baby's father was? So what? My son and I would still be fine. He was perfect. The doctor had said so and I had proof of it sitting in the car outside. Besides, just because they knew I couldn't exactly pinpoint my son's parentage didn't mean they knew I'd had sex with multiple partners one night while being too drunk to remember any of it.
Only Aiden knew that, and he wouldn't tell.
I jumped as a door opened down the hall and the soft thud of footsteps approached the bathroom.
"Sam?" David's voice.
I puffed out a breath. If it was just David, I could deal with that.
"I'm fine," I said before he could even ask.
"You don't look fine," he argued. "Don't give me that shit when you're clearly not fine. I screwed up somehow. I can see that."
I made myself get up on my feet. "It's not your fault."
"But something is wrong," he insisted.
I shook my head. "Let's get out of here. The others will be wondering where I went."
"We're not going back there before you tell me what's going on." David rested a hand on my arm, a warm point of contact. "Please, Sam."
"Okay," I relented. "But not here."
That awful feeling of dread that had taken over my body earlier was back in full force as I led David to the living room with me. I tried to push it down. David would understand, right? He wouldn't judge me.
I sat on the couch and David sank down next to me.
"Please tell me what's wrong," he asked again.
How could I say no? He was my best friend. He'd come to my doctor's appointment with me. He cared about me and the baby. It wouldn't be fair to keep this from him. "It's just..." I started, struggling with the words. "Everyone’s here and now everyone knows I'm pregnant and they're all... They must all be wondering how I got pregnant. Mrs. Rosewood even... she said she hoped I could reconnect with the baby's other father because you know... every baby needs two parents." I laughed hollowly.
"That was a little inconsiderate of her," David agreed. "I can ask her to leave if you need me to."
I smiled at David. It wasn't even hard, even though I still felt awful. "You don't have to tell her to leave. She couldn't know I would react like this. It's just the way she is, just... an old lady who says things. I shouldn't let it get to me. I know everyone's thinking it. She's just the only one saying it." I swallowed. "You want to know too, don't you? Who the other father is. Everybody wants to know."
David took my hand in his own and interlaced our fingers. "You said you didn't know."
"It's true. I don't know, but it's worse than that."
"How can it be worse?" David asked, then winced, probably at his own choice of words. I nearly laughed, even though there was no joy in me, not that moment.
My voice dropped to a whisper. "I couldn't even give you a list. That's how bad it is." The few memories I had of the night my baby was conceived were all a blur. There had been men. I couldn't even say how many. Maybe three, maybe four. I remembered leering looks, even though I didn't remember faces. I wasn't sure how that worked. I remembered grunts, but I couldn't have picked out anyone's voice on a recording.
Even just thinking about it made me feel sick all over again.
