“Yeah, well, I’ll never leave her pregnant and alone to find out.”
Shit. I hate that he’s right.
“She didn’t tell me,” I say, knowing full well it’s my fault.
“Does it matter? Bigger question is, what are you going to do about it, brother?”
“Fly back to Chicago and convince her she still wants me. That’s why I called. You chartered a plane a few times from that husband of Paige’s friend, Mag Heron, right? I’m hoping I can get back quicker that way. If not, I’ll rent a car and drive all night.”
“Don’t drive. I’ll pull some strings and see what I can do. That way you’re guaranteed to get here tomorrow. I’ll text you a number. I can’t promise he’ll have a last-minute flight, and he’ll probably charge you for sending it to Florida to pick you up...but there’s a chance.”
“Thanks, Ward. I owe you.” I end the call and text Grandma.
I promise her a dinner date back in Chicago and ask her to grab my rental.
I’m so excited to have a great-grandchild, I’ll help you any way I can, dear, she sends.
Nick: Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.
Grandma: You’re welcome. Do not mess this up. I need plenty of baby time.
I smile. If I have my way, childcare won’t be an issue for Reese this time.
By the time I’m packed, Heron’s aide calls. We work out a price, I’m on the hook for an exorbitant sum to fly fifteen hundred miles, and Grandma is on her way over.
The weight of this chance feels oppressive, but I’m determined to win her back.
I’m about to fight my way to our forever or die.
29
The Tantalizing Truth (Reese)
I can do this.
I can be a single mom, take care of the kid, and the bills, and I might stop doubting myself if I could just get that stupid jerk-jerkface out of my head for five whole seconds.
I’m finishing up my morning ritual over the toilet, glugging half my weight in water, when my phone goes off with an unknown number.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hello, hello from Area 51. How’re you holding up, sis?” Abby has never sounded better in her life.
“Holy crap. I didn’t think you’d actually call me. Please tell me this number isn’t traceable,” I say.
Sure, I’m glad as hell to hear from her, but not if it risks blowing her very expensive Federally provided cover.
“Burner phone,” she explains. “The FBI guy who set us up said I shouldn’t be stupid, and I shouldn’t do it, but I was adamant about talking to my only sister while she’s heartbroken and pregnant. Guess what I chose. He helped me set it up last night.”
“Oh, thank God,” I whisper. “So how are you?”
As she rattles off a few happy details about their new life in an undisclosed (and hopefully temporary) location, I head into the kitchen for bread and peanut butter. I shove a piece of bread in my mouth and start chewing so it soaks up all of the damn acid this baby gave me overnight while making a proper peanut butter sandwich.
Sandwich in hand, I walk into the living room and collapse on the couch.
“I called Paige last night. I’m going back to work today,” I tell her, taking a bite.
“Work? Are you sure that’s a good idea? They gave you a whole week off you said...”
“They’re not going to pay me to stay home barfing forever—”
“They should. The senior partner whose name is on the building is kinda why you’re barfing, Reese.”
I roll my eyes. “That isn’t Ward’s fault, and the guy responsible doesn’t know about it.”
She pauses. I can feel her disapproval over the line.
“Are you ever going to tell him?” Abby asks.
“Ward? Yeah, I’ll talk to him today, but I’m sure Paige told him since they’re married and all. I’ll have to take maternity leave soon enough, and they’ve been so nice about everything else...I don’t want to take advantage. If he asks me to resign, I will.”
“What will you do?”
I shrug. “Uber. Lyft. Maybe both. That might not be a bad option for a while, even if the pay can’t hold a candle to my job.”
“So, when are you telling Nick?” she asks point-blank.
I shudder, folding my arms around my sides.
“Whenever. He broke up with me. He hasn’t called or texted once. I’m not rushing to contact him. Sure, he’ll find out eventually, and we’ll deal with it then like responsible adults. I might be a lot of things like a slut who sleeps with her boss, but I’m not desperate, Abby.”
“What’s a slut?” Millie asks in the background.
Oh, God. I bury my face in my hands.
“You’re on speaker, aren’t you?” I whine while Abby laughs. “Bad word, Millie! Sorry. Guess I get a time-out.”
“Auntie Reese can’t be a bad word!” I hear her say.
There goes the last piece of my heart today.
I sigh. “Does she still ask about Quick Nick? I hate that too. She got so attached to him, Abby...”