I have to go see her; I have to explain. I just have to. There isn’t a way around it anymore. I fucked up, and I did it in such a colossal way that I don’t think anything will be good enough, but she has to know. I grab the coffee cup in my hand and bring it to my lips when I hear the doorbell. My eyes go to the clock on the stove, and I see it’s a little after nine. Who could it be? I put down the cup and walk to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open, and there standing in the doorway is the only person who can make my heart beat normal. My first thought is how beautiful she is. Her hair blows in the wind while she holds her purse in front of her. “Erin.” Her name on my lips makes everything okay. It’s like my life was spinning, but now it’s back on its axis.
“Hi,” she says, her voice soft, and I look at her. She looks like she’s lost weight and hasn’t slept, and I did that to her. But my God, she’s still fucking gorgeous. “I’m sorry. I should have called before I came, but I didn’t even think.”
“No,” I say sharply. “Please come in.” I move away, and I hope she comes in. If she doesn’t, I wonder if I could just grab her and lock her in the house. Never let her leave so I can finally fucking breathe.
“I won’t take up much of your time,” she says, walking in and waiting for me to lead the way.
“You can take up as much of my time that you want,” I tell her. All my time, all my time forever almost slips out, but I stop myself. “Is this okay?” I say, pointing at the couch, and she nods her head.
She sits down at the far end of the couch, and I see that her hands are shaking. I want to reach out and take her hand in mine and bring it to my mouth and kiss it. “Do you want something to drink?” I ask her nervously when she shakes her head.
“No, I’m fine,” she says, then she looks down at her hands. “I just,” she says, taking a deep breath. “I just . . .”
I reach out to grab her hand, and she moves it away before I can touch her. I put my hand back in my lap because she doesn’t even want my hand on her. “I’m just going to say what I came here to say, and then I have to go,” she says, and I see that she is blinking away tears. She is so strong. “I would ask that you please not interrupt me, or I might chicken out, and I really can’t.”
“Say whatever you need to say,” I tell her. “And then I ask that you listen to what I have to say.”
“I’m pregnant.” She says the two words that stop everything that I was thinking. It just stops everything. “I know this is a shock to you, and I am still in shock myself.” I don’t say anything; I can’t say anything because my tongue is numb. “I found out last night. I just lost track of the dates with everything that I had going on,” she says, the last part trailing off softly. “I haven’t told anyone. I wanted you to know before I told my parents.” I look at her, my eyes blinking as I try to think of the words. “I know this isn’t anything that you wanted, or we planned, but it’s here, and I have to deal with it.”
The shock to my system is more than I can digest right now, but my heart takes over where my brain is in freefall. “Erin, you don’t have to deal with anything. You are having our baby,” I tell her, and my heart is full of love, a love that I didn’t even think I was capable of.
“Anyway, the reason I’m here is just to tell you that I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t expect you to be involved or for you to even care,” she says, and now a lone tear escapes, and she wipes it away with the back of her thumb. “I won’t tell anyone you’re the father, and you can be as involved as you want to be or not at all.”
“What?” I say to her, and she gets up now.
“I know it’s a shock, and it’s really not something you want to hear.” She nods at me, and I sit here looking at her. “I have to go,” she says, and she walks out of my house, and I’m still sitting here on the couch.
“I’m going to be a father,” I say out loud with a huge smile on my face. “I’m going to be a father.” Shit, I think, getting up and running out the door to chase her, but she isn’t there. I run back inside and up the steps two at a time, ignoring the sting on the bottom of my feet as I rush to get dressed.