“This afternoon. I didn’t even suspect…I just missed—” She choked on her words, but she didn’t need to finish. I knew enough about women’s reproduction to know what she meant.
She sniffled. “I’m never late.” She shook her head. “It’s all my fault.”
Had she not been on the pill? I suppose I was a douche for assuming she was. With another woman, I’d have used a condom for sure, but Trina was a Boy Scout, always prepared. There’s no way she’d have had sex without protection. She wouldn’t risk upsetting her highly ordered life. No, she’d have kids when she was good and ready. She’d probably have a sex schedule set to ovulation.
The end result was that it didn’t occur to me to ask about birth control because she’d have stopped me if she’d been unprotected. Right?
“It’s not all your fault. I should have asked, or…” I didn’t know what to say. “It takes two to tango, right?” It wasn’t a time for levity and yet, I quirked one side of my lips up.
“This is serious, Ryder.” She snapped. “You can’t make everything a joke. You can’t assume it will all turn out all right. My entire life has changed in an instant and you’re laughing about it.”
“Our lives.” I took a breath and sat back, reminding myself that this was a big deal, and for someone like Trina, it would be an even bigger deal. Her temper was to be expected.
She huffed out a breath. “You’re not ready to be a father. You’re a bartender and musician. The house is nowhere near ready for a child—”
Holding my own hurt and anger back, I said, “I know you’re upset—”
“Upset!”
I held my hand up for her to be quiet. “I understand the gravity of this. But calling me a loser isn’t the answer.”
She blinked at me. I thought maybe she was gathering steam to lambast me again, but instead, her expression crumpled and she burst out crying.
Oh fuck. Her pissy moods I could handle, but this. Did I hold her? Did I let her get it out by herself?
“I was on the pill. How did this happen?” she cried.
“Okay. So, it didn’t work. That’s not your fault.” I wasn’t sure why we were focused on this. Of all the things to talk about, what happened didn’t seem the most important. What to do seemed like it should be top of the list.
“It was my supplement. It made the pill ineffective. I didn’t know, Ryder. I’m so sorry.”
Feeling safer to reach out to her, I stood and went to her. I reached for her hand and pulled her up, and then guided her to the couch.
“What are you doing?” she asked as I sat and pulled her into my arms.
“I’m being grown up.”
She gave me a look like she didn’t like my calling her out on how she treated me. I squeezed her against me.
“Aren’t you scared?” she asked.
“Yes. A little,” I admitted. It wasn’t that I didn’t agree with her that the unknown and unexpected could be scary. Right now, I did agree with her. But it could also be exciting. And I knew we had support from family and friends. The world wasn’t going to end.
“Why aren’t you freaking out?”
I laughed. “Because I’m not entirely upset by the news.” I tensed, waiting for her to go off on me about how could I not be upset. Instead, she looked up at me like she didn’t know me.
“Why not?”
Did I tell her I loved her now? Did I mention I’d already pictured us married and having a family? Probably not. Having a baby was enough to process. Her head might explode if I mentioned marriage.
“Because I like kids. And I like you. So, having one with you, while a bit inconvenient at the moment?
?”
“A bit inconvenient?”
“It’s not something you and I aren’t equipped to manage.”