His eyes are watery, and he tilts his face up to the ceiling of the covered porch. “Trying to raise this baby alone in L.A. is a big mistake.”
“I don’t need your approval.” I walk to where I parked my car on the street, only looking back when I open the door. He’s not running after me. He’s just standing there, staring at the ground. I didn’t realize that part of me was hoping that when circumstances turned against us a third time, he might choose me anyway. And watching him stand there, watching him let me go, I feel my heart break once more.
Easton
Shay walked away, and I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.
It’s been an hour since she stormed off the porch at her brother’s house and left me behind to deal with my shock and confusion.
She’s having his baby.
There’s part of me that keeps waiting for her to track me down and say it was all a bad joke. A mistake. Anything.
We’ve never been able to get the timing right. Before I left for L.A., she was too young. Then Scarlett was pregnant; then Abi was sick. And now . . .
She’s having his baby.
“You look like hell,” Carter says, sliding into the booth across from me.
Shay walked away, and I came to Jackson Brews. I let the nanny know I’d be home late, and I fully intended on getting completely shitfaced. But so far I haven’t had more than a couple of sips of my beer, and the double Bulleit I ordered sits untouched in front of me.
“You okay?” he asks.
“She’s having his baby.” The words are no easier to say after an hour of hearing them on repeat in my head.
Carter grabs my bourbon and takes a big swig, grimacing a little as he puts it back down. “The situation’s so fucked up. First of all, I can’t even wrap my brain around Shay getting involved with this guy to begin with, but then, get this—according to Teagan, she had a talk with him and they agreed he wouldn’t be part of the baby’s life. Who does that?”
I snap my head up. “She said that?”
“Apparently. Teagan said she didn’t want George involved, and he was uninterested.” He shakes his head. “Seriously, he’s just gonna have a kid out there and not even care?” Carter releases a humorless laugh at my arched brow. “Right. I guess you’d know something about that with your dad.”
“I never understood it either. My first thought when I found out Scarlett was pregnant was just to figure out the best way I could be a dad to the kid.”
“And then it turned out you weren’t Abi’s dad at all.”
“Don’t say that.” The words come out harsher than I intended, but I don’t care when his felt like a blow.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know, but Abi and I talk about it. We talk about how words matter and we choose the words we use for our relationship. While I might not be her biological father, I am her dad. That has nothing to do with DNA. Fuck, look at my father. He’s the best evidence to prove that doesn’t mean shit.”
“I’d say you’re the best evidence of that, East. You are a great dad to Abi.”
The pride on his face makes my throat go thick, and I have to swallow a lump of emotion I’m not equipped to deal with right now. “Thanks.”
He leans back in the booth. “I’m supposed to let my little sister raise a baby on her own in another state?”
“She’ll land on her feet. This is Shay.” But it burns like hell.
“It’s not that I don’t think she can do it. She’s going to be an amazing mom. But hell, Easton. I watched your mom. It was so much harder for her than it was for my parents, and there were six of us. It’s just harder without a partner, and I don’t want that for her.” He sighs. “Also something you’re familiar with.”
I roll my pint glass back and forth between my palms. “Not exactly. Scarlett might not be the most consistent parent, but she is involved. She loves Abi and makes sure she knows it. That alone is worth so much.”
“Where’s your head with all this?” Carter asks. “Is this . . . The baby, the move to L.A.—is it really a deal breaker for you?”
“She didn’t give me a chance to make a decision. She didn’t even tell me, just changed her plans to exclude me.” I realize that’s the part that hurts the most. She was ready to leave for her interview without telling me at all. Was she going to wait until the news made its way back to me through the grapevine? Or maybe she planned to call me from California and tell me from there. Was she too scared, or did she—