Sure, there has always been an underlying attraction that just simmers under the surface. I don’t know if it’s just one-sided on my end, but sometimes I think that I can see the same heat I feel towards him burning beneath his sapphire eyes.
“Chelcie, did you hear me?”
I look over at Dee with a frown. “Uh, sorry. I must have spaced out. I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”
Her face softens for a second before her eyes narrow in concern. “And why haven’t you been sleeping well? Is everything okay with the baby?”
“What? Oh, no, the baby is fine. I have my checkup coming in three weeks and we should be able to find out what the gender is,” I sigh. “I’m just in a funk. I had a run-in with a drunk Asher last week.”
Her eyes widen for a second before she lets out a heavy breath.
Yeah, everyone knows what drunk Asher means.
“Was it that bad?”
“Well, let’s see. He called me fat. Basically said he would fuck me even though I was chubby, and then when I went to leave, he acted like he didn’t even know why I was pissed. So, yeah, it was pretty bad. It’s just… Now I don’t know how to act.”
“He did what?” she practically shrieks in outrage.
Dee turns in her chair and spins so that she is facing my desk. We’ve been working in her home office all day, catching up on some work that we’ve been putting off. I think at this point though, she is just giving me some things to keep my mind busy. She doesn’t really need me as much now that she closed the North Carolina branch of her insurance company. I think we both know that we’re grasping at straws to keep me working for her.
“I know. It was pretty brutal, but in his defense, he was really drunk. No, not just drunk—he was trashed. He didn’t just reek of alcohol, Dee. He looked like he had gone round for round with a cat and lost.” I smile a little at the memory. He might have been a giant ass, but I felt a little better knowing that he looked like he was feeling the bad end of the barrel. “I have no idea what the hell happened before his…whatever that was between us—but he looked terrible, Dee.”
“Chelcie—” she starts.
I hold my hand up before she can continue. I know what’s coming. It’s the same thing that’s been coming since the day I told her I was pregnant with Coop’s baby. The same thing that will continue to come until I grow some lady balls and tell Asher that I’m pregnant with his late brother’s child.
“I know, okay? I know. The longer I wait, the harder it will be for everyone involved. But please tell me how I tell a man who is either drowning in a bottle or sleeping his way through his misery that his brother knocked me up? Huh? Because the first thing he will think is the worst. I just know it. I didn’t ask for this, Dee. I’m thankful that I’ve been given this chance to become a mother…but I never asked for this.” I end in a whisper, angrily wiping the few stray tears that roll down my cheeks with the back of my hand.
I don’t want to be that stupid, weak girl who gets all weepy when shit goes wrong. I’m stronger than that. I refuse to be a backseat driver in my own life. I might not have asked for this—hell, I might not have even wanted this option…ever—but I will be damned if I lie down and live in self-pity.
“When he isn’t being a jerk, a whore, or a drunk, he really is such an awesome guy. He’s just so lost right now. If I tell him about the baby, he’s either going to freak out or blame me. I just know it.”
Dee looks at me with unconcealed pity. It would anger me, but I know she is coming from the right place. It’s a no-win situation, but it’s my no-win situation. I can’t sit here and bitch about it, hoping for her to fix my problems. No, it’s all on me, and it’s time I man up and do something about it. I can’t move on from this hole I’ve seemed to dig for myself until I start to build the ladder to climb back up.
And that starts and ends with Asher.
“I’m here if you need me, but please tell him soon. I look at him and it’s like looking in the mirror sometimes. He needs something to hold on to, Chelcie. He needs to know that his life is worth more than this misguided path of vengeance and self-destruction.”
I nod my head and make a promise to myself to get Asher alone—and sober—and finally let him know about the baby.
Why am I doing this? I wonder, looking at my reflection in the mirror for the ten thousandth time.
It’s Saturday night, and for some ungodly reason, I let Dee talk me into going on a blind date. Why she thinks I should be dating being almost four months pregnant is beyond me. No man is going to look at all of this lovely baggage I’m carrying around and think that this is a sure bet.
The phone starts ringing right when I finish applying the last of my makeup. After making my way down the short hallway and into the living/dining room of my apartment, I quickly grab the phone before it rolls over to voicemail.
“Hello?”
“Hey, you! Are you excited for your date tonight?” Dee’s voice comes through the phone thick with excitement.
“Uh, no. You know I don’t want to be doing this, Dee. I don’t see the point. It’s not like I can hide the fact that I’m pregnant if I plan on seeing him again. I would feel dishonest not telling him.”
She pauses for a second. “It doesn’t have to be the focus of your date, Chelc. Just because you’re about to have a perfect little bundle of love doesn’t mean that defines your life. You deserve to be happy too. I know you don’t want to go out with Nikolas tonight, but he’s really a nice guy. Who knows? You might hit it off, and then you can thank me at your wedding.” She snickers when she finishes, and I can just picture her laughing at herself.
Ever since Dee and Beck worked out their issues—and boy, there were some heavy issues—she’s gone from being lukewarm about relationships to being a walking, talking advocate. She’s happy, so she wants everyone else around her to feel the same happiness and love that she does.
I’ve got to give her some credit though. She really lucked out with John Beckett, and I would probably feel the same way if I were in her shoes. The love that those two have for each other is almost too much to watch.
“Jesus, Dee. I just don’t think this is the right time, you know?” I complain. Even to my own ears, I just sound like I’m bitching. Which I am.
“Yeah, and when will be the right time? When the baby is here? When the baby is older? When you’re seventy? I get it. Really, I do. But you can’t just keep living your life, working, and sitting at home.”