“Dinner sounds fucking great.” He moved away and grabbed his cut off the recliner and his wallet from the coffee table. “I should be done by about six o’clock.”
“Okay, then, I guess I will see you sometime after sex,” I said. Then realizing what I’d said, quickly added, “Six! I mean I will see you sometime after six!”
Caleb grinned and leaned in to kiss me again. “Sure you did.”
I grinned against his lips. “I really did mean six o’clock.”
“Six, sex. They both work for me.” He winked as he clipped his wallet to the silver chain attached to his jeans, and shoved it into his back pocket. Throwing his cut on, he gave me another delicious grin as he disappeared out the door.
After he left, I showered and dressed. In the bathroom, I noticed the bottle of pregnancy vitamins on the counter. I picked them up and looked at them in the palm of my hands.
Tonight.
I had no idea how he was going to take the news. I’d seen him four times since our one-night stand but the timing had been wrong every time.
But tonight was different. Tonight his world was going to change.
We would sit down and work out how this was going to work. The baby was going to change everything, and it would be better to establish clear lines in the sand before things went any further.
First, the sex would have to stop. Because sex would only complicate an already complicated situation. Sometimes sex wasn’t just sex. No matter how many times you told yourself that. No matter how many times you dressed it up with labels like friends with benefits or fuck buddies. Sometimes real feelings crept in unnoticed, hidden behind all those delicious orgasms you were having without commitment, or so you thought. Then suddenly he was off with someone else and you were hurt.
And if I was really honest, I already liked hanging out with Caleb more than I should.
So, the sex was out.
Secondly, I didn’t expect anything from him. I was ready to be a single mother. I could do this on my own; but he had a right to know about his kid.
That settled, I visited the market and picked up some ground beef, sun-ripened tomatoes, fresh thyme for homemade meatloaf, as well as a fresh Vienna loaf to make garlic bread. Ironically, I wasn’t much of a cook, and meatloaf was about my limit.
I also grabbed some fresh produce for a green salad and a bottle of red wine for Caleb because I had a feeling he was going to need it.
I got home just after five and set about making the meatloaf while fighting off a wave of nausea. These days I was lucky to keep anything down besides peppermint or ginger tea, black coffee, and crackers. And I’d developed a weird craving for chopped up cucumber doused in vinegar. But today my upset stomach was more about nerves than morning sickness.
When the doorbell rang, I drew in a deep breath and then slowly exhaled. I was about to send Caleb’s life tumbling on its axis.
But when I opened the door, it wasn’t Caleb on the other side. It was Charlie.
Immediately, he started yelling at me. “What the hell, Honey. When were you going to tell me?”
He pushed past me to get into my apartment.
“What?” Was all I could manage to say.
“The baby! When the fuck were you going to tell me about it?” He put his hands on his hips and stared at me, waiting for an answer.
This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when Caleb was on his way over.
“Who told you?”
“I got a call from the doctor’s office this afternoon confirming your sonogram. You had me down as your emergency contact, and when they couldn’t get hold of you, they called me.” I briefly closed my eyes. Dammit. I’d forgotten to update my details. “But that’s besides the point. Is it true?”
I felt sick.
“Well, is it?” He pressed impatiently.
Standing there, watching him lose his temper and his usually cool demeanor, I wondered what I had ever seen in the cheating, impatient loser.
“Yes, it’s true,” I said.
“Goddammit!” He ran a frustrated hand through his perfect hair. “When the fuck were you going to tell me? Or were you planning to wait until it was born and then hit me up for money?”
I glared at him. “I don’t want anything from you.”
But he just looked at me like I was ridiculous.
“Of course you do.” His eyes narrowed. “Why else would you have it? We’re not together anymore. I don’t love you.”
It was crazy, but even after everything that had happened, his words still stung. Even though I hated him. They were a reminder of just how little I had meant to him over the past two years.
He pulled some money from his billfold and threw it onto the breakfast counter. “There’s my half of the abortion.”