I tense at the surprise in her voice. “What? Is the baby okay?” My mind immediately shoots to the diet pills and starvation. Could the damage I did to my body then be hurting my baby now?
“See that?” She taps the flashing light on the screen again. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat.” She taps another blinking light on the screen. “And that’s your baby’s heartbeat.”
“What’s wrong with it? Why does my baby have two hearts?”
“Your babies,” she says. “You’re pregnant with twins.”
“YOU DON’T have to do this.” She pokes at her crawfish étouffée and scans the crowd of Cajun Jack’s, where she asked me to meet her for dinner. She’s been quiet since we took our seats in the little booth, but it’s not a distant kind of silence, just an unreadable one.
“I don’t have to do what?” I ask.
“You don’t have to pretend we’re together.” She abandons her fork and sips at her Sprite. “Especially now that you know about…” She drops her eyes toward her stomach. “I understand why you’d want to be done with the charade. As soon as they announce that you got the grant, I’ll figure out a way to break it to my mom gently.”
“I didn’t get it,” I say softly.
She sits back. “What?”
“They announced the grant recipients yesterday. The Healthy Tomorrow Grant went to someone else.”
“But my mom… I thought…”
I knew there was a good chance I wasn’t going to get it, but Hanna seemed convinced from the beginning that her mom could make it happen. “Your mom is only one vote. Everyone else on the committee got a vote too.” And who wanted to vote for a sweaty gym when there were community gardens and nature trails applying for the same money?
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “What are you going to do?”
I shrug. “What I’ve always done. Work my ass off until things pick up again. I never expected this to be easy, and I don’t mind the work.”
She stares at me, her lips parted. “I wish I could give you some money.”
“I don’t want your money. I’m okay. Things aren’t as bad as they seem.”
“If they already announced the grant recipient, why are you willing to keep pretending to be with me?”
I wince. I wish she’d just punch me in the balls. It would feel better than this. “It was never about the grant money. I wanted a chance to win you back.”
“I’m hurting you, aren’t I?” She shakes her head. “I was too insecure to believe you could really want me for me, and I screwed up everything. I broke your heart too.”
“You were worth it.”
“Was I?” she whispers, looking down at her plate again. Fat tears rolls down her cheeks, and I feel like someone is taking a cheese grater to my heart. “I don’t feel like I’m worth much right now, and for the first time in my life, those feelings have nothing to do with my body.” She laughs, but it’s not the normal bright laughter I’m used to. “I was such an idiot. You and I could be happy, but I let my fear destroy something good.”
“Nothing’s destroyed, Hanna.” I take a breath and study her. “I’m not saying everything is going to be easy, but nothing is destroyed.”
“It’s twins, Max. Nix did an ultrasound today, and I’m having twins.”
Twins. Jesus. My head is spinning, and I can’t think of a single response to that news. I can’t imagine how she must feel.
“I’m sorry you had to find out like you did—about Nate and the pregnancy. You didn’t deserve that.” She draws in a shaky breath. “God, how did everything get to be so screwed up?” She smiles for a second before she remembers herself and it falls away. “He defended you. Told me I was too good inside to be able to love an asshole. He and I never planned to have a relationship. Just a fling, I guess. He was supposed to be my rebound guy. Someone to make me feel better about myself after you and I split.”
“I’m sorry.” I say the words without meaning to, and flinch. This conversation isn’t about me. It’s not about us.
“For…what?”
“For screwing up our beginning. For making you feel unworthy in any way.” My throat is thick, and I have to stop talking, force myself to breathe. “Take as long as you need before you announce anything. Not just as long as your mom needs, but you too. I’ll be here for you. However I can help you.”
“Thank you.”
We give up the pretense of eating and I take her home. Just the sight of those narrow steps up to her apartment makes my stomach flip. It’s bad enough that she fell down them before, but now that we know she’s pregnant, the idea of her falling is enough to keep me up at night. Maybe we could rent out that apartment to someone else and use the money to get her a place without stairs.