“Mama! I go to Aunt Tori’s!”
Scarlett sits up and quickly wipes away any lingering tears. “Yes, you are, buddy. Are you going to be a good boy for Aunt Tori and Uncle Kalum?”
Grant enthusiastically nods his head as Scarlett peppers him with kisses around his face.
“I love you, buddy.”
“Love you, Mama.”
Scarlett puts him down, tears beginning to form in her eyes again.
Oh God. Is something the matter with Grant?
No. He hasn’t been sick. He hasn’t even been to the doctor recently. She needs to tell me soon, because I’m losing my fucking mind over here.
As soon as the door closes, I turn her to me. I can’t wait another second.
“Scarlett? What’s wrong, baby? I’m going crazy over here.”
She doesn’t look at me for a few seconds, and it feels more like a few hours.
“You got your wish.”
I hear her words, but I have no idea what they mean. “Scarlett, you’re confusing me. What wish did I get?”
She looks up at me with so many emotions swimming through her eyes that I can’t lock one down.
“I’m pregnant.”
I hear her words, but I’m too stunned to say anything.
She’s . . . she’s pregnant? I’m going to be a father?
“Scarlett? Are you serious?” Her words have finally hit me and I can’t contain my excitement. I envelop her in my arms, scattering kisses all over her face.
Holy fuck, I’m going to be a father.
When I find her lips, I’m surprised she’s not kissing me back like she normally would. I sit back and look at her.
It’s only then I realize I’m the only one excited by this news. Those tears? They were because of this. Our conversation the other night starts coming back to me.
“Scarlett, this is a good thing.” I grab her hands, hoping she’ll hear me on this. “We’re in this together. There’s no reason to be scared. I’m going to be with you every step of the way. This is the best news we could—”
She cuts me off before I can finish. “This is not the best news! How in the fuck could you think this is the best news?”
She rips her hands from mine and stands up, angrily pacing around the living room.
“Scarlett, what are you mad about? That we’re pregnant?”
“We are not fucking pregnant, Maverick. I am fucking pregnant. Don’t pull this we shit.”
We’ve had arguments before, but she’s never raised her voice like this.
“I’m sorry, but what are you mad about? We both want more kids, so why is this a bad thing?”
She looks at me like I’m dense. “Are you kidding me? Did you not listen to a fucking word I said the other night? Yes, I want kids. But not right now. Not for a few years! I have school to think about. Who knows if I’ll be able to stay in the program? Whether you realize this or not, it’s going to mess with our lives in ways you don’t get. Are you ready for late-night feedings? Crying at all hours of the night?”
“Don’t act like I haven’t thought about this. I have. And yes, I know that it will take some adjustment, but I’m ready for this. I’ve been ready for this.”
“Of course you are. Hell, you probably did this on purpose.”
“Excuse me?”
“The other night when you brought up wanting a kid. Was that just gauging my reaction? Or did you have this planned?”
What in the fucking hell is she talking about?
“Have this planned? Woman, I love you, but you are acting crazy right now. How in the hell could I plan this?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, throwing her hands up in the air like there’s an endless amount of ways I could’ve gotten her pregnant without her knowing. “Did you accidentally put a condom on wrong? Poke holes in it? I don’t know, Maverick. All I know is that you were super ready for another kid, and that I wasn’t, and now all of a sudden, here we are! Seems a bit fishy to me!”
“Are you really fucking accusing me of getting you pregnant without your consent?”
“If the shoe fits.”
“I really hope this is the pregnancy hormones fucking with your head, because I cannot believe you would accuse me of doing this!”
“Oh, so now you’re calling me crazy? Really great way to treat the mother of your child, Maverick.”
I want to snap back, but I’m balancing on a tightrope right now.
How could she even fucking think I would do something like that? Yes, I know I wanted kids sooner than she did, but can’t she see that the universe had other plans for us? That this is a blessing?
Or is this something more? Does she not want children with me? Was she just going to use me for the next few years until she finished school, then go on her merry way?
“What is this really about, Scarlett? Do you not want to be with me?”
“What do you mean? This is about nothing more than the fact that I’m fucking pregnant and only one of us wanted this.”
“Are you saying you don’t want my child? Are you thinking—”
“No! Of course not. How dare you even think that.”
“Well, excuse me for thinking the worst given what you’ve accused me of tonight.”
Silence is heavy in the room. We’ve now gone past the point of saying things we probably don’t mean. But hell, right now, I don’t know what I mean, let alone what she does.
Just when I think we might turn a corner, Scarlett speaks up, this time quieter. Almost resigned.
“For the second time in my life, I’ve gotten swept up in a man, become careless, and wound up pregnant.”
“Do not fucking compare me to Ryan, Scarlett. You can be pissed at me. Call me every name in the fucking book. Think I injected you with my sperm. Think I tricked you into getting pregnant. I don’t give a fuck. But don’t you fucking dare compare me to that worthless piece of shit.”
The silence falls over us again, but this time, it’s because neither of us knows what to say.
“I’m going to sleep downstairs tonight,” she says, breaking the silence.
“If that’s what you want.”
I thought maybe she’d explain herself. Give me some sort of reassurance that we’re okay.
But instead, she just walks downstairs and doesn’t even look back.
43
Scarlett
“Mama?”
Grant’s voice stirs me from my attempt at sleep. Poor guy must be confused. He stayed at Tori and Kalum’s last night, so why would I be on their couch?
Because I’m a scared, angry, confused, horrible person who needed to not be under the same roof as Maverick West, so I snuck into my sister’s apartment last night.
“Come here, bud.” I open my arms and my baby boy comes in for morning cuddles. I miss this. When it was just the two of us sleeping in a one-bedroom apartment, there would be nights when I would sleep on the couch for one reason or another. Each morning when he woke up, he would come out of the bedroom and come snuggle with me, letting me breathe in his baby smell and innocence.
It feels like a lifetime ago. And now, in a few months, in a blink of an eye really, there will be another little baby with us.
Holy shit. I’m pregnant.
It’s not like I don’t know it. But every once in a while, it’s like I forget. And then something happens that makes me very much realize I’m carrying Maverick’s baby.
Like right now, when I feel my first daily round with the toilet is about to hit me.
“Grant, sit here, buddy. Turn on some cartoons.”
I barely make it to the bathroom in time for the first of what I’m sure will be many visits here.
“I take it the conversation with Maverick didn’t go well?” Tori asks, leaning against the door to her bathroom.
“Don’t start.”
“Brush your teeth. Brush your hair. Then come into the living room. We’re having a chat, sister.”
Too tired an
d sick to argue, I do what Tori says. When I make it out to their living room, Grant is situated on the floor with a bowl of cereal as he watches cartoons, oblivious to anything odd going on.
Sometimes I’m really jealous of my kid.
“Want to tell me why I woke up to see my sister sleeping on my couch instead of with the man she’s about to have a child with?” Tori asks from the kitchen.
I walk over to find her sitting with Kalum at their table, a cup of coffee sitting by an empty seat.
“Hey, Kalum. If you didn’t know, I’m pregnant,” I say sarcastically, taking the seat next to my now-one-and-only cup of caffeine for the day.
Damn, I forgot about no caffeine.
“I heard. Congratulations.”
I don’t reply because I don’t know what to say. Thank you? Some sort of sarcastic remark about his brother and his super sperm?
What I end up doing is crying, because it’s the only thing I seem capable of doing since I found out.
I want to be happy. I want to be excited. I want to call my parents and Shannon and tell them they’re going to be grandparents. I want to get on Maverick’s Pinterest app and look up a million different ways we can decorate the nursery.
But my brain can’t seem to allow any of that to happen.
“Why are you here, Scarlett?” Tori asks, no hint of anger or sarcasm on her face. “Maverick was hysterical this morning when he realized you were gone.”
“You talked to him?”
She nods. “He went downstairs to check on you and make sure you were okay. When he didn’t see you there or your car in the garage, he panicked and called us. Luckily, you snore like a mother when you’re pregnant, so I could hear you from the other room.”
When I don’t say anything, Tori continues. “By the sound of his voice, he’s concerned, Scarlett. Which makes me think he’s not mad about this baby. Is that what you were scared of? Is that why you wanted us to take Grant?”
I shake my head, wondering how I’m going to tell this next part to my sister and Maverick’s brother without sounding like a monster.
“No, I was never scared of how he would react. In fact, I knew he was going to be over the moon.”
“Then why were you scared?”
“Because I’m scared for me!”
My outburst takes them by surprise.
“What do you have to be scared of? You’ve done this whole mom thing, so you know you’re great at that. You know Maverick will be with you every step of the way. And that he loves you. What do you have to be scared of?”
Tori’s making valid points. I realize this. But tell that to my brain, which is poking holes in every one of them.
“I’m not ready. I’m in school. I have to work. I . . . I’m not ready for this.” It’s the only thing I can say that makes sense.
“When is anyone ever really ready?” Kalum says. “From what I’ve heard, even if you plan a pregnancy down to the day, something unexpected will happen.”
“And you have triple the support system since you had Grant,” Tori adds in. “Yes, school will be difficult to navigate. But if anyone can do it, it’s you. You know we’ll help. Annabelle and Jaxson will pitch in too. Hell, I’ll make Ben take babysitting duty once a week.”
I laugh through my tears, because I know she would. I know all of them would.
“I can’t ask you guys to do all that for me.”
“You didn’t ask. We’re volunteering. That’s what friends do. That’s what family does.”
I know they would, whether I asked them to or not. I know I have a village when it comes to Grant and this baby.
What I’m not ready to admit yet is what the little voice in the back of my head is saying. The one I thought I’d silenced. But ever since that second pink line appeared yesterday, it’s come back full force.
What if he leaves me? What if he promises me the world—promises this baby the world—only to leave me like everyone else has? Like Ryan did?
I know he said he won’t. And I know he’s nothing like Ryan and that he wants this baby and a family with me. But what happens when things get stressful? When the baby is on night number 84 of not sleeping and you feel like you’ve hit your limit? He’s gotten the good parts of Grant. He missed the late-night feedings, the colic, and the diapers I’m pretty sure contained nuclear waste.
What if this is too much? What if he thinks he can, then a few months in, realizes this isn’t what he signed up for? Hell, when I moved in, the man didn’t even want us there, and now he wants a full-blown family?
“Scarlett, you know Maverick loves you, right?” Kalum says, snapping me from my wandering thoughts.
I nod, but don’t say anything.
“I’m going to take that answer as you placating me. Fine. But let me tell you this: since you moved in, he’s changed in so many ways for the better. You’ve shown him how to love again. You and that little boy are the best things that have ever happened to my brother, and the baby you guys made is only going to add to that.”
“But what if we aren’t what he wants?” I let my thoughts slip out, not able to hold them in anymore.
“Is that what you think?” Tori says, slipping her arm around me. I just nod, because I won’t say it again.
“Sissy, what does he have to do to prove to you that he’s not like the others?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” I say between tears. “All I know is that we’ve been playing house, and I feel like he could be caught up in it. But this? This isn’t playing house. This is real. And if I’m scared of what’s about to happen, how can he really know he’s ready?”
Neither of them answers me, knowing that whatever they say likely won’t help.
“What do you need from us?” Tori asks.
“Can I stay here? I’m not sure how long I . . . I just need to be away from the house for a few days.”
They both nod.
“Whatever you need, sissy. Whatever you need.”
44
Maverick
Three days.
It’s been three fucking days since I’ve heard her voice. Seen her smile. Heard Grant’s little footsteps running down the hall when it’s time for dinner.
Seventy-two hours and I’m going out of my damn mind.
It would be worse if I didn’t know where she was. Thankfully, I know she’s with Kalum and Tori. Kalum came by the night after she took off, and grabbed a few things for them.
“What are you doing?” I asked my brother, confused as fuck as to why he was packing a bag for Grant.
“She needs time, Mav,” he said, not breaking focus from his task.
“Time? Why the hell does she need time? Is she . . . is she leaving?”
My brother didn’t say anything as he walked past me to the bathroom. Our bathroom. Where she had quietly overtaken my medicine cabinet and I gladly let her.
“Kalum? Answer me. I’m going fucking crazy here.”
He then looked at me with sympathy in his eyes.
“I don’t know, man. I don’t know.”
Since he left, my mind has gone to places I didn’t know were possible. When Jenna left me with the house I’d bought for her and my heart in my hands, I thought that was the worst I could ever feel.
I was wrong. So fucking wrong.
Over the last few days, I’ve just gone through the motions. Gone to work. Talked to as few people as possible. Raced home in the hope she’d come to her senses and was here waiting for me.
But each night, I’ve returned to nothing. And the more she stays silent and doesn’t respond to my messages, the more scared I am that she’s never going to walk through that door again.
“Oh shit, you look worse than I thought,” my mother’s voice comes through from the kitchen. Damn, I was so out of it, I didn’t even hear a car pull in or the door open.
“Thanks, Mom. Don’t know what I’d do without your pearls of wisdom,” I say sarcastically, not bothering to move from my place on the couch.
/> “Why are there only empty beer bottles in the garbage?” she asks, apparently now having moved on to the judgier part of this conversation. “And when did you last eat?”
“What day is it?”
I hear her huff before she comes into the living room, removes the beer bottle from my hand, and takes a seat next to me on the couch.
“So I hear that congratulations are in order?”
I look at her, trying to gauge where she’s going with this. “You’d be correct. Congratulations. You finally get to be a mammaw. Just what you’ve always wanted.”
She slaps me upside the head. For what, I’m not sure.
“I didn’t always want to be a mammaw. But I did always want my boys to be happy. So, tell me, why is one of my boys drinking himself stupid while the mother of his child is living with his brother?”
I almost blurt out something like, “Ask her!” or “Fuck if I know!” but I know that won’t help my cause. By the look on my mother’s face, she’s not playing around.
“I don’t know, Mom. All I know is that one second she was telling me that we’re having a baby. She was freaked out, but I was over the moon. And before I knew it, she was accusing me of getting her pregnant without her consent or some crazy shit like that. We fought. And then she was gone.”
My mom takes a deep breath—I’m guessing preparing herself for the life lesson I’m about to receive, whether I want it or not.
“First of all, I’m going to ask just to make sure: you didn’t get her pregnant without her consent, did you? Because I swear to God, child, if you—”
“Of course not!” I can’t believe my own mother needed to ask me that. “Did I want a child with her? Yes. Did I want it sooner than she did? Yes. But never ever would I do that.”
She lets out a sigh of relief. “Okay. Good. We’re going to chalk that up to pregnancy hormones and move on to the next problem.”
“Is the next problem figuring out when she’ll come back to me?”
“No. That’s a few steps down the road,” she says, my puzzled look making her chuckle.
“I’m going to tell you something I never thought I would. And you have to promise me you won’t tell your brother. But you and your brother . . . weren’t . . . well, you weren’t exactly on the agenda for my life.”
Say You're Mine Page 52
