“I will.”

“I love you, son. And I pray it works out.”

“Me too.” But I’m not holding my breath.

“You're acting weird today. Are you that nervous about talking to my dad?”

“About that. We're going to need to postpone again. There’s something you and I need to discuss.”

“Okay. What do we need to discuss?”

“I don't want to have that conversation here.”

She laughs. “You can't say that and then expect to not have that conversation here.”

I grasp her hand. “You need to come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“We've only been at work for an hour, and you already want to leave to go have sex? You’re turning into a real nympho.”

I stop in the hallway before we get to the front door. “No, Frankee.”

“O… kay. You're starting to sort of freak me out.”

I don't reply because I have no reassuring words for her.

She knows something is up, and neither of us says a word on the drive to my condo. The tension is so thick it feels like a blanket wrapped around me. Closing in on me. Smothering me.

We enter the condo, and she stands next to the sofa with her arms wrapped around herself as I sit at the end.

“Sit down.”

“I don't want to sit down.”

I lean forward with my head in my hands, my forearms resting on my thighs. “Fuck, I don’t know how to do this.”

“How to do what?”

I don't reply or look up at her.

“You're scaring me, Porter.”

I get up and go to her, wrapping my arms around her tightly. I press my nose to her hair and inhale deeply, savoring the moment because I know this could be the last time I ever hold her this way. “I love you so much. I don't think you really know how much.”

“Please tell me what this is about.”

I can procrastinate no longer.

“The woman who came to the brewery last night.”

“Your business associate?”

“She's not my business associate.”

She stiffens in my arms. “Who is she to you?”

I release her because I know she’s going to fight me if I don’t.

“I had a one-night stand with her a few months ago. But I swear it happened before you. There's been no one else since you.”

“Okay. I knew there were women before me. I don't like it, but I can handle that as long as the past stays in the past.”

“The past isn't staying in the past.”

“Did you tell her we were together?”

“Yes.”

“Why did she come to see you if she was a one-night stand?”

This is it. The moment that is forever going to define the rest of my life. “She's pregnant.”

Frankee stares at me, and I swear I can see the blood draining from her face. “Say the rest of it. Say the rest, so I can hear it come out of your mouth.”

“She says the baby is mine.”

Frankee squeezes her eyes shut, and her erratic breathing causes her chest to shudder. Her eyes are closed, but tears still form in the corners. They drop down her face onto her shirt, forming dark spots on the fabric.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I swear to God, I would take back that night if I could.”

“Do you think it belongs to you?”

I inhale deeply and slowly release my breath. “It’s possible.” I hate admitting that.

Frankee sits on the sofa and covers her face with her hands. “We were in such a good place, and this ruins everything.”

“It ruins everything only if you decide it ruins everything. We can still be happy.”

“You’re having a baby with another woman. That puts a huge damper on our love life.”

“It happened before you.”

“You said that already. But guess what? The consequences of you fucking her—your baby being inside her—are happening right now.” Frankee shakes her head. “You're not a dumb teenager. How did you let that happen?”

“I do not fucking know. I was careful.”

“Not fucking careful enough.”

“She has asked me to be a part of the baby’s life.”

“A paternity test would rule you out if you’re not the father. I can’t imagine her asking you to do that if she isn’t confident that the baby is yours.”

I hadn’t considered that. “Where does this leave us?”

“I don’t know. My head and my heart are on an out-of-control emotional roller coaster. I can’t think because all I want to do is puke.”

“We can get through this. I know we can.”

“I consider myself a strong person, but I don’t know if I can handle someone else being pregnant with your baby. That’s a tough one for any woman to endure.”

“It’s killing me that I’m hurting you this way.”

I can’t lose her over this. She means too much to me.

I drop to my knees on the floor in front of her. I will beg her to stay, with no shame, if that’s what it takes. “I love you, Frankee. I don’t want to lose you over this. Please don’t leave me.”

Tears stream down her face. “Another woman is having your baby. Not me. You can’t imagine how that breaks my heart.”

“We can still get married and have babies, just like we talked about. This does not change that.”

“I wanted to be the one—the only one—to give you babies. Knowing that she has that part of you growing inside her… it taints it for me.”

I press my forehead to her knees. “Please don’t say that.”

“I can’t help it. It disgusts me to know she’s pregnant by you. Think about if the roles were reversed and I just found out I was pregnant by a one-night stand that happened right before we started dating. How would that make you feel? To know that some other man had a part of himself growing inside me?”

That thought sickens me. And it’s just a thought, not a reality. “I would lose my fucking mind.”

“When you said that you wanted to see me holding your baby, I never imagined its mother would be another woman.”

Hearing her say that breaks my heart down the middle.

“I fucked up. No doubt about it, but this doesn’t have to be the end of us. We could come out stronger on the other side because we survived this hurdle.”

“It’s a big hurdle, one I’m not sure I’ll be able to get over.”

“We can do it together, baby. I know I’ve let you down, but we can turn this around. I’ll do whatever it takes if you’ll just give me the chance.”

“That’s the thing. This isn’t a case where you need to right a wrong; you haven’t wronged me. This is about me and whether I can come to accept your having a baby with someone else.”

I grip her hips and press my face against her lap. “I wish it were you having my baby. Fuck, it should be you.”

“But it’s not.”

And it may never be. Because I have fucked up that badly.

“Let’s not go back to work.”

“I don’t think I can go back to work. But I also don’t think I can stay here.”

“Don’t say that. I need you to be here with me now more than ever.”

“I need time—and distance—to figure this out.”

“How much?”

“I don’t know.” She leans away from me. “Can you please take me to my car?”

Again, we don’t speak during the drive back to the brewery. I hate every second of the silence. But what I hate more is watching her get into her car and drive away, not knowing when—or if—I’ll see her again.

She needs time. And I owe her that without being in her face.

Porter: Take off the rest of the week.

Porter: I’ll take care of everything.

Porter: I love you.

No response. Maybe because she’s driving. Maybe because this is it.

Fucking incredible how one small moment can change the entire course of your life.

I’m losing the one thing I love most in this world. I feel it happening. She’s slipping through my fingers. And there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it.

I pick up my phone to check the texts that came through while I was driving home. All three from Porter. I want so badly to reply. To tell him I love him too. To tell him not to worry because this is going to be okay. But I just can’t bring myself to do it. Because the truth is that I’m not sure everything is going to be okay.

I’m angry. I’m hurt. I’m jealous.

I love Porter, so how could I not be?

I go to my bedroom and fall into my bed, curling into a ball. I want to shut it all off.

The pain. The sadness. The envy.

The disappointment. The remorse. The regret.

We were so happy last night. Making love. Talking about marriage. A baby. Our baby. The one he wanted to give me as soon as I’d let him. The one with the wild Beckman hair.

Not one he’s having with another woman.

I lie on my side with my legs curled into my chest most of the day, tossing from one side to the other. I occasionally doze off for brief periods, and it’s the only bit of escape my heart gets from drowning in misery.

The sun streaming through my window has moved lower. Everyone will be home soon. And the questions will begin.

What’s wrong? Why are you in bed? Why have you been crying?

I don’t want to answer everybody’s questions. I just want to be left alone.

The first knock on my bedroom door comes and it’s my mom. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Tags: Georgia Cates Men of Lovibond Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net