My gut twists. I’m assaulted by how impossible it seems to ever undo my own warped upbringing, let alone the mistakes I’ve made.
“What she needs right now is a strong man to step up and care for her and that beautiful baby. I can’t think of anyone stronger than a man born into chaos who spent half his lifetime sifting through those jagged pieces and putting himself back together. And frankly, I don’t think you’re anywhere near done finishing the puzzle. This is your moment. Shine.”
I don’t know what to say, but she’s so right it clubs me over the head.
Was I ever happier than when I had Reese and Millie around? And we always knew Millie would leave us.
This is our child.
Our chance to make a family just as fucking magical.
The image forming in my head puts a rock in my throat.
Reese, holding our baby, curled up with her head on my chest. I cradle them so hard I could break, tighter than I’ve ever held onto anything else.
Could I give her that? Could I give our kid a life? Could I give myself peace?
Maybe this was always the answer. I look at Grandma again, her eyes flickering with this faith in me I’m struggling like hell to comprehend.
Maybe she’s right about everything. Maybe family’s always been the glue I need to hold it all together.
“Don’t look so shocked. You had to know this was a possibility,” she says impatiently.
Yeah, and Reese did too.
We were done with condoms almost from the start.
My gut aches. How many times did I tell her we were in it together after the best sex of my life?
Sure, it was about Abby then, but we both knew together meant more than just her sister’s mess.
I made her a promise, and then I left her to deal with the wreckage on her own. Even when I thought I did the right thing, I walked away like a chickenshit coward.
Of all the many mistakes I’ve made, this is the worst.
“I knew it was a possibility. I just didn’t—” I stop. Didn’t what? Didn’t think eighth grade biology applied to me? I have no excuses.
And when a woman I was sleeping with told me she had news, I should have fucking asked what it was.
“Didn’t expect it?” Grandma asks, raising an eyebrow.
I nod.
“I don’t think she expected it either.”
“She didn’t?” I ask.
What does that mean? Is she upset about it? Does she not want this? Reese is so good with Millie though. I don’t think it’s that, so does she not want this with me?
Grandma laughs. “I’m sure it’s a shock for her too.”
“Is she upset about the baby?”
“Not that I know of, but Paige spilled the beans because she was that concerned.”
“Paige tried calling me twice a day for the last week,” I say, falling to the sofa and trying to breathe.
“I know. That’s why I’m here. But also, I didn’t fly to the beach just to give you a lecture. I came here to have dinner with my grandson. In the meantime, I have a poker game to catch up on while you sort out that head of yours—preferably without any advice from Dr. Tequila. I’m going to go see my girls, and I’ll be a whole lot richer when I see you after sundown.” She stands and walks to the door, flicking a warning gaze over her shoulder. “Be showered and sobered up by then, young man.”
“Will do.” I crack a messy smile.
She walks out the door as I pull out my phone. My mission now is to get back to the love of my life and our unborn child ASAP.
I need to be on the first flight to Chicago, even if it means begging Grandma to drive my rental back to the airport.
I search page after page of flights and can’t find anything before tomorrow. That’s too long. If I don’t find a commercial flight soon, I’ll charter a jet. After sifting through way too many flights and not finding one, I call Ward.
“Now you have time to talk to me,” he growls into the phone.
“Not even a hello, bro?”
“After days of ignoring my messages, you’re lucky I don’t climb through this phone and kick your ass. Where are you?”
“Florida. I need to get home.”
“So, why are you on the phone telling me about it instead of on a plane?” he snaps.
“I’m trying,” I bite off. “Just tell me this, is Reese pissed at me?”
He chuckles. “She hasn’t said anything to me. That’s a better question for Paige. In my opinion, you might be okay. She’s more easygoing than Paige. My wife didn’t speak to me for weeks when I shat the bed with her, but then again...that wasn’t quite as serious as your predicament.”
I snort. “I’m not sure your wife thinks hearing you say she’s ‘the last person in the world you could ever marry’ is less serious.”