Adley
Weighted down by more emotions than I knew existed, I text Mo, Claire, and Tess to tell them I won’t make it to the dinner Mo had proposed for tonight. It’s the second time in two days I’ve canceled on them, and I’m counting on the excuse of abdominal cramps to get me off the hook.
Plus, I’m not completely lying. My stomach feels weird. No, I’m not having actual cramps, because I would have to have a period to have cramps, and I don’t have periods anymore because Lincoln’s stupid little sperm decided to attach itself to me, and now I’m pregnant.
Pregnant.
Placing my hand over my stomach, I look down. “See? I already suck at this mother thing. I just called you stupid, and you’re not even here to defend yourself. For the record, I don’t really think you’re stupid. I bet you’re pretty wonderful. But your father, he’s stupid.”
I sigh, closing my eyes against an onslaught of memories of Lincoln.
Laughing together on the couch.
Him feeding me bites of food while I study for a test.
I remember all the little ways he used to look after me: making sure my gas tank was full, getting my oil changed while I was in school, packing me a lunch so I wouldn’t forget to eat.
A tear runs down my cheek, and I wipe it away. “I lied. He’s not so bad either. I’m just a little hurt that he may not feel the same way about me as I do about him. But I’m sure he’s going to be an amazing father. He’ll step right up to the plate and handle the situation with ease and grace.”
As soon as I tell him.
Grabbing a tub of ice cream from the fridge and spoon from the drawer, I carry them into the living room and plop down on the couch. It’s stiffer than the one at Lincoln’s, and I frown when I realize the comfy blanket I’m used to curling up with is his. I didn’t realize how much I’d made myself at home at his place. It’s not the same being here without him.
I pull up This Is Us, a show I’ve been wanting to watch but haven’t had time for.
I’m three episodes into the first season when someone knocks on my door. I blink and look down at the now-empty carton of ice cream—evidence that I’m nursing a broken heart and pregnant.
I pick up my phone, but there ar
e no missed calls or texts from Lincoln, putting a nix to my hope that he would chase after me even though I asked for time apart.
“Oh, stop it, Adley,” I mumble. “He just can’t love you the way you love him, and now you’re tied to the guy forever.”
There’s another knock on the door and then Mo’s voice. “We know you’re in there, Adley. We can hear you talking to yourself.”
Rolling my eyes, I look through the peephole.
Mo, Claire, and Tess.
Mo lifts an eyebrow, as though she can see me through the hole. “We’re not leaving.”
“I told you I’m not feeling well, and I’d really like to be alone.” I rest my head against the door and cross my fingers that they’ll believe me and walk away.
“We know something is bothering you,” Tess says, nudging Mo out of the way. “And we’re not here to make things worse for you or force you to talk about what’s going on—”
“Yes, we are,” Claire whispers.
“Shush.” Tess elbows Claire and continues. “We just want you to know that whatever it is, we’re here for you. But you should also know that we’re not leaving.”
I take a deep breath and blow it out. If I let them in here, I’m going to lose what little control I have on my emotions. Oh hell, who am I kidding? I lost control of my emotions the second a tiny pink line popped up on that damn stick.
“We brought brownies from Sweetie Pies,” Claire says, holding up the familiar purple box.
I open the door.
Claire hands me the box.
Mo hands me a bottle of wine.