I squeeze my eyes tight as tears prick my eyes. Now that Kingsley is gone, I roll onto my side and curl up in a tight ball, feeling more isolated than before. The hard truth is that nothing about our relationship has been normal. It’s been fucked up and doomed for failure from the very beginning, and nothing will ever change that.
Not me.
Not Kingsley.
And certainly not the baby growing in my belly.
The only thing true and pure between us was the day we spent on his boat when he didn’t know who I was. Other than that, it’s all been a game. A web of deceit. I don’t trust him, and he doesn’t trust me.
How can we possibly bring a baby into this world?
A wave of grief crashes over me as I realize the answer.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It takes effort to drag my ass from bed the next morning. As soon as I rise to my feet, a wave a nausea hits, threatening to suck me under. Unlike the previous mornings, I now understand the reason behind it. My hand flutters to my lower abdomen as I press my palm against it, almost as if I can feel the new life flourishing inside. At this point, it’s the only thing that makes this pregnancy real.
The heavy weight of this decision presses down on me as I jump in the shower and dress in my school uniform. I add a bit of concealer under my eyes, golden shadow to my lids, and gloss to my lips. I might feel like shit, but I don’t want anyone to comment on my appearance or ask questions.
Especially Kingsley.
Until I decide what to do, I’m keeping this new development to myself. Dr. Davis encouraged me to take some time and think about a decision. I’ve already made a follow-up appointment, and she offered counseling services if I need someone impartial to discuss the situation with.
If the circumstances were different, the outcome would be as well. Kingsley and I don’t have a relationship and if I’ve realized anything over the last month, there is too much bad blood between our families for us to move past it.
How can I bring a baby into that kind of toxic environment?
Pushing those depressing thoughts from my head, I grab my backpack and purse before walking through the gallery and hustling down the stairs. I’ve become a master at timing my arrival perfectly, so I make it to the foyer moments before we walk out the door. I don’t want to spend anymore time alone with Kingsley than I absolutely have to. And I certainly don’t want to have an unexpected encounter with Keaton. The last creepy conversation was enough to last a lifetime.
I spot Kingsley at the bottom of the staircase, scrolling through his phone. A deep sadness fills me as images from last night flit through my head. It only solidifies the notion that it’s much too late to fix this broken relationship.
The chime of my cell chases those thoughts away and I pause, unzipping my purse to slide the phone from the dark depths of my bag before glancing at the screen. The message is from Austin.
Mom is making pancakes. Wanna come over?
It might not sound like much, but Mom being out of bed this early is huge. And making pancakes?
It’s a little ray of sunshine in the suffocating darkness that has become my life.
I quickly type back that I’m running late but am glad Mom is doing better.
As I slide the phone into my purse, I stumble on the last tread. My bag slips from my shoulder before falling. Everything—makeup, phone, wallet, and a bunch of loose change—spills, clattering across the marble tile. I grab the banister to keep from face planting at the bottom of the staircase. As Kingsley leaps forward, his phone slips from his fingers as he reaches for me. The air gets knocked from my lungs as his arms wrap around my body before hauling me close.
“You all right?” His voice is nothing more than a rumble in my ear.
An answering shiver scampers down my spine. Even though I should separate myself from him, all I want to do is burrow into his solid warmth. I’m so tempted to close my eyes and inhale a deep lungful of his rich masculine scent. Instead, I ignore the clamoring demands of my body and step away. My gaze lands on my purse and the contents strewn throughout the foyer. If this is any indication of what’s in store, it’ll be a shit day.
A huff of breath escapes from my lips as I drop to my knees, grabbing a slim tube of lip gloss and mascara before stuffing it into the empty bag. Kingsley hunkers down beside me. I scoop up my wallet and my phone. Thankfully, the screen isn’t damaged. He dumps a few odds and ends into the bag. I’m scanning the area to see if I’ve missed anything when my gaze falls on the green pamphlet from the doctor.