She doesn’t finish, but I know what she wants to say.
Tell Jake.
“I can’t, Annie,” I whisper. “Not after what he did.”
“It won’t stay a secret forever, hon,” Annie tells me. “Just make sure it comes out on your terms, or it’ll be more trouble. Either way—I’m here.”
“Thank you for that,” I say. “You’re the only ally I feel like I’ve got right now.”
“An even better reason to tell him.”
For all her gentleness, I can see in her eyes what she thinks.
Maybe because I keep looking at myself in the mirror with the same expression.
Chapter 70
Janie
Freshly chastised, albeit gently, I leave Annie’s office feeling at odds with myself—much more relaxed, yes, but somehow more guilty, and more worried about what exactly I plan to do. So far, I haven’t given it enough thought.
But Annie’s absolutely right. I can’t hide a pregnancy forever. I have a tight body—for now, anyway—but I’m not some gymnast that can go nine months without showing and then have a surprise baby. I have another month at the most before there’s no hiding it. And that assumes that I can somehow convince Gloria to keep her trap shut, which will more than likely involve something ridiculous like making her part owner of Red Hall.
No. Over my dead body. Or hers. How much does a hit man cost?
I’m indulging in the macabre humor of that thought when I freeze. My heart crawls right up into my throat and before Jake even crosses the street it’s clear what’s on his mind.
He knows.
How could he not? Annie’s place has a sign on it, and it’s not subtle.
I consider running away. Somehow, I suspect Jake can run faster than a pregnant lady who’s never run more than a half a mile at full speed.
It doesn’t matter what choice I make though, because Jake is standing feet away from me just a second later, hurt and disgust all over his face. He looks from me to the sign, and then back at my belly, where his unborn child is growing.
“Are you fucking… Jesus, Janie… are you serious?” His face is red, and the veins on his neck are bulging. His mouth works as he tries to find words.
Mine does too. What do I say right now?
“I’ve been calling you for over a month,” he says, his voice getting louder. “Were you even going to tell me?”
“Jake, I…” but there’s nothing I can realistically say. Before, when I could have called him and told him, I would have been able to plan something or think out what I would say, but I haven’t even done that. Every time in the last month that I’ve imagined that conversation starting, I just put my mind on something else.
Now, I wish I’d spent the time playing that scenario out. At least I’d have something prepared.
Jake stares at me, waiting, but I’ve got nothing. Finally he rubs his face with both hands, and looks away. “And ah… I mean… is it mine?”
“The fuck do you mean, ‘is it yours’?” I ask, suddenly angry at the suggestion. Only after it’s out of my mouth do I realize it’s a completely rational thing to ask, but that doesn’t make me take it back. I’m committed. If we’re going to have this out, let’s have it out.
But that isn’t what happens. Jake looks like I hit him hard in the gut, and shakes his head slowly as he turns to leave.
“Jake…” God, I want to say something better. Something that fixes everything. Think, think…
“You can’t keep my own child from me, Janie,” Jake says as he leaves me. “Don’t even think about trying.”
I watch him go, stunned and numb. No, not numb. Terrified.
Terrified and racked with guilt that I absolutely deserve.