Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Uh …” I fiddled with my hoodie strings.
“Going home?”
My gaze caught on my pillow just inches from his hand. It was the ultrasound picture. I stared at it every day.
As if I wasn’t already nauseous, the idea of Matt finding out made me feel faint as well. Before I could answer, his gaze followed mine. My jaw unhinged to speak, to distract him, anything to bring his attention back to me.
But it was too late.
He took the picture and stared at it through squinted eyes. “Who’s pregnant?” he murmured.
It felt like an honest, innocent question, as if he assumed there was no way it could be me.
I had a tiny window to make up anything and deliver it with confidence.
Olivia’s pregnant. Big surprise, huh?
I found it in the hallway. I don’t know who it belongs to, but I’m going to ask around.
Eve’s pregnant. She sent me a picture.
Sarah’s pregnant, didn’t you know?
But I waited too long. My silence screamed the answer. And when he glanced up at me, the tears filling my eyes confirmed it.
“Jesus, are you serious?”
I wiped my face and nodded.
“Is it—”
“It’s yours,” I said through a laugh and a sob.
Matt eyed me with a weird expression for a moment as if he questioned my sincerity, as if he needed to recall if he’d been drunk another night and accidentally had sex with me.
I grabbed a tissue from the box on my desk and wiped my eyes and nose. “Sorry. That was a bad joke.”
“Does he know?”
I nodded, then I shook my head. “I wrote him a letter, but either he’s not reading them or he doesn’t care.”
“Who else knows?”
I shrugged. “My doctor. And God. I told him first.”
Indecision warred on Matt’s face as if he wasn’t sure if it was a laughing matter.
It wasn’t, but what else was I supposed to do? Continue to cry my eyes out? Have an emotional breakdown because I was in way over my head without so much as a single trusted friend with whom to confide?
“What did God say?” Matt pressed his lips together to hide his grin.
“He said, ‘Well, shit, Gabriella. You really fucked up.’”
Matt’s eyebrows shot up his forehead as I slapped a hand over my mouth.
I didn’t cuss. Well, I didn’t do it unless someone (Ben) provoked me. And I definitely didn’t do it and blame God. That felt like an exponentially worse sin than anything else. Would He allow me to give my baby up for adoption before sending me straight to Hell?
Matt fisted a hand at his mouth to hide his snickering. “He did, huh?”
I plopped into my desk chair and fished a handful of crackers from the box. “How does it feel to have four years of college under your belt and be on your way to becoming a successful lawyer?”
He dropped his fist and frowned. “Gabby …”
I laughed. It sounded a little maniacal. “I’m serious. What if you would have followed Sarah to Nashville like a lovesick puppy? Not a penny to your name. No job. No skills. And just for fun, let’s pretend you had a uterus, and some other person got you pregnant. Can you even imagine? Oh wait! Did I mention said person doesn’t want to have anything to do with you? And said person lives with their parents and plays with Legos all day?”
Matt stood and took slow steps in my direction. Then he squatted in front of me. I shoved the crackers into my mouth, very unladylike. I couldn’t fully close my mouth while I chewed.
He took my hands. “No. I can’t imagine. But I know how it feels to think your life, as you imagined it, is over. And so does Ben. But I moved on. So will you, and so will Ben. In ten years, when you have this child and maybe one or two more running around your house, you’ll think back to this moment and laugh. You’ll think of all the things that turned out to be so much bigger than this moment, and you’ll laugh at the nineteen-year-old version of yourself who felt like the world was ending.” He squeezed my hands. “But it’s just beginning.”
I slowly chewed the crackers, tiny pieces falling from lips onto my lap. “That was an excellent speech,” I mumbled.
He wrinkled his nose as cracker crumbs shot in his direction.
“Tell me what you really think,” I said.
He chuckled, releasing my hands and sitting back on his butt, hands flat on the floor behind him. “I think … well shit, Gabriella. You really fucked up.”
I loved Matthew Cory. Maybe not like I loved Ben, but Matt was a good guy. He didn’t have to bring me flowers or give me a pep talk. No one expected him to keep an eye on me or even be my friend. He did it because it’s just who he was. Ben was a good guy too. At least, the Ben I knew before he lost his hearing. I wasn’t sure that Ben still existed, but I hoped so. That’s the Ben who I wanted to be my child’s father.