Wildcard: Volume Three

I sink to the floor, holding her in my arms. My hands run down her back as I let her cry. I know the relief she’s feeling right now must be huge.

“Thank God,” she whispers. “I thought it was . . . I thought . . .” Her voice trails off, giving way to a fresh round of tears. “I’m so sorry I dragged you into this, Ryder. I’m so sorry. I almost ruined everything.”

“But you didn’t. You made a mistake, okay? It happens. Now we move on, and we forget about it. We forget about him.”

“But people aren’t going to let you forget, are they?” She covers her face with her hands.

“Scar, remember who you’re talking to? I thrive on controversy,” I chuckle. “At least I did, until I met you. So what if people have nothing better to do than talk about this for the next few weeks? It can’t be worse than a broken arse.” That earns me a smile.

I help her stand, and lead her over to the bed. She’s unsteady on her feet, and I’m worried about her. Something still isn’t right. Even after everything, I can tell something is on her mind. My stomach tightens. I don’t think I can handle any more surprises.

“I’m going to call a doctor.”

“No!” She blushes, the loudness of her voice startling even herself. “I don’t need a doctor,” she adds, her voice quiet.

“You’ve been off for days, Scar. I think you should—”

“I’m pregnant.”

Holy mother of what?

“Pregnant?” I repeat. I’m stunned. My hand rises to my face and I rub my jawline. “How?”

“Surely with the number of times you’ve had sex, you can figure that one out.”

“Not what I meant, Scar. When—” I stop as it hits me: the only time we’ve had unprotected sex was that night I shagged her out of revenge. Fuck. I’m pissed at myself, because that is not how I wanted to bring a kid into this world.

“I’m going to bed,” she mutters. She pulls away from me, but not before she kisses me. “I don’t want to talk about this now, okay?”

She’s out of the room before I can respond, and I’m left standing there alone. I know I should go after her but I’m unable to move as my mind tries to process what she’s just said.

Holy fucking shit.

Me, a father?

Chapter Twenty-Three

Scarlett

Rolling over in the bed, I run my hand over the smooth, silky white sheets. Empty. I force my eyes open and sit up, confused as to why I’m alone. He’s never up before me. He’s the most non-morning person I know. I slide the covers back and stand up, reaching for my robe and wrapping it around my waist.

“Ryder?” I call out.

The silence of his apartment greets me. I hadn’t woken when he came to bed last night, and now he’s gone before I get up? My heart sinks as I immediately think the worst. I dropped a pretty big bombshell on him last night.

Sighing, I walk through to the kitchen and make myself a mug of green tea. My stomach feels a little more settled this morning. I hope that’s a sign that the worst of the nausea is over. I can barely remember what being pregnant with Jake was like, but I don’t remember being this sick. And tired. I feel like all I want to do is sleep all day.

I’m just about to walk away from the kitchen when I see the handwritten note sitting on the counter. I pick it up and smile.

You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll see you after the match. Love you.

Shit. I had completely forgotten that Cally was playing again today. My heart races as I read his words. He’s not avoiding me. That’s a good sign. And he said he loves me. I walk over to the sofa and sit down with my tea and the note, which I read again and again, each time bringing another smile to my face.

I switch on the television and lay back, my hand resting on my stomach as I watch the tennis. Excitement surges through me as I think about the life growing inside me. There are so many things I wish I could have given Jake when he was growing up—things I’d be able to give this baby. I can’t wait to tell Jake that he’s going to have a little brother or sister.

***

I wake up to the sound of cheering. It takes me a second to realize I’d fallen asleep on the sofa while watching the tennis. My half-full tea is stone cold, but I drink it anyway. Ryder’s face flashes on the screen. Holy shit, this is Cally’s match. I reach for the volume and turn it up.