Page 70 of Duke
“Wheeler, you kept me alive during the darkest time in my life,” he says, referring to the years before he came out. “You’ve done right by me. My turn to do right—”
We both jump at the knock on my door. At the same moment, my Ring camera app announces a visitor. Who the hell is here at this hour? Probably a solicitor. Or the UPS guy.
“Don’t answer it,” I say, but I sit up so I can see my phone screen a little better. I tap on the app and wait for the camera to pop up. “I must’ve gotten a package or something.”
“And that packagedelivered.”
“Ew.” I laugh, the constriction in my chest easing ever so slightly. “Too soon, H.”
Another knock. My neighbor’s dog, an adorably naughty pug mix, starts barking. I can hear him scratching on their storm door.
“You sure you don’t want me to get that?” Haines asks.
The camera pops up on my phone, and I freeze when I see the broad-shouldered figure in a backward baseball hat standing on my doormat. My stomach lurches.
What—how—my address in Dallas, he’s never—fucking Mollie, I bet she—
“It’s Duke Rivers.” He knocks again. “I promise you, Wheeler, I’m not upset. I just wanna talk.”
I start to shake.
Haines meets my eyes. His look like they’re liable to pop right out of his head. “Did you—”
“Invite him?” I half whisper, half hiss. “No, Haines, I did not invite Duke to Dallas.”
Duke found out about the pregnancy. Why else would he drive two hundred miles to show up unannounced like this? Then again, he did try texting me earlier today. I ignored it, just like I always do, telling myself it’s better we keep our distance. No use postponing the inevitable, right?
Who told him about the pregnancy? Did Mollie let it slip? More likely it was Cash. He’d never spill my secrets on purpose, but maybe—I mean, what if he thought Duke deserved to know? Cash isn’t wrong. Duke does deserve to know about this, but I just wanted to be the one to tell him.
Shit shit shit.
I put a hand on my forehead. Is Duke angry? I’m not. I’m just overwhelmed. What the hell am I going to say to him? I still don’t know howIfeel about the whole thing, much less how I’m going to handlehisfeelings.
“Please, Wheeler,” Duke calls. “Just gimme five minutes. I need to make sure you’re okay.”
Haines pushes out his bottom lip.Awwww.
My mind races. I don’t want to see Duke. Really, I don’t want to doanythingexcept rot on my couch like the waste of life I am.
But he came.
He drove all the way from Hartsville to see me.
Pretty sure he didn’t come to yell. Or to fight.
But he did come. And at the very least, I owe him an explanation. An apology too.
Throwing off the blanket, I pivot on the sofa and put my feet on the ground. Haines follows me as I head for the front door, stopping briefly to examine my reflection in the hall mirror.
“Shit,” I repeat, this time out loud. I look like hell. Greasy hair. Greasy skin. A smattering of pimples dots my chin, another lovely side effect of this pregnancy.
Haines quickly smooths my hair, tucking it behind my ears.
“Any better?” I ask.
“Meh. Better than nothing.”
“Ugh!” Throwing up my hands, I turn back toward the door.
