He does it moments later, and the porcelain lucky elephant that Gemma gave me is splattered on the floor.
Okay, don’t go ape-shit on him. The elephant is replaceable. Have some compassion for the Jerk, you’ve just delivered the most lifechanging news. He needs to process.
“I put a fucking condom on! You pulled it off. Then we used another one.”
“What do you want me to say? Scientifically, we beat the odds, and I don’t know what the hell happened or how,” I yell back in frustration.
“How could this happen, then? And how can you assume it’s mine? Who knows who you were doing? Marcus… it’s got to belong to Marcus.”
He didn’t just go there. Yep, he did.
Unleash the hounds.
Quick to my feet, I’m eye to eye with him, matching his stance. Even though he towers over me while I’m barefoot, he doesn’t intimidate me one bit. My arms are straight, hands locked into fists, ready to tear into him.
“I’m not that person. Blood tests and ultrasounds confirmed how far along I am. I can’t even… you know what?” I say, barely able to control my anger. “You can walk away now. Forget I told you this. You’re young, got your whole life ahead of you. I can raise this baby. I don’t need someone in my life thinking I’m a whore.”
“I didn’t… look, I’m sorry. It’s just—”
“Too late for apologies, Jerk.”
Silence, again.
This time, he sits back on the sofa and bends over with his face between his legs. His arms are resting on his knees, but they appear to be shaking. Neither of us saying a word, the silence continues as the clock ticks over.
“I’m engaged,” he mumbles, his words barely audible. “To Eloise.”
“Yes, you are. I don’t want anything from you.”
Still, without knowing what the hell happened in London, the name and sentiment strike a nerve with me, almost like a how-dare-I-ruin-things-for-him attitude. It dawns on me that he doesn’t even take a moment to ask me how I’m doing, whether I’ve had morning sickness, or anything about the baby. It’s all about him, and why did I expect anything different from Haden Cooper?
I should have just kept this a secret and moved away, and life could continue for him. Except you want the best for your unborn child, and having a father around who is a positive male role model is supposed to be a good thing. I wouldn’t go as far as saying the Jerk could be a positive role model, though.
Again, I shouldn’t have breathed a word.
“Marcus. Does he know?”
“No… I thought you needed to know first. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”
“I want to be there when you tell him,” he responds, threatening me as he struggles to compose his anger.
“Wha… why? I don’t want to deal with your ego bullshit,” I inform him. “I’ll just tell him, and it’s over.”
I want him to leave.
I want to climb under my covers and cry myself to sleep.
I’m scared, frightened, and unsure of how I am going to raise this baby alone.
Somewhere deep down inside, I wish he would have stepped up and taken responsibility for his actions. But true to form, he grabs his phone and wallet from the table and without making eye contact he says, “I have to go.”
There are no more words, and the second he is gone, I begin to cry myself to sleep.
Eleven
One thing that doesn’t surprise me about Marcus’ kitchen is that it is a complete and utter mess. It’s midday Saturday, and the place looks like a tornado just blew through. My OCD is having a heart attack, desperate to grab some disinfectant and scrub the place clean, but this isn’t the purpose of my visit. Although I am wondering if it would be highly inappropriate to offer to clean his apartment after I tell him I’m pregnant with his cousin’s baby.
A late-night drunken call from Marcus alerted me to the welcome-back party being held for the Jerk and what’s her face. Okay, that’s mean. She’s got a face, a pretty one at that, so no need to get on that jealous horse, Presley.