The Breakup

by Erin McCarthy

  He didn’t push it.

  But I underestimated the megabitch’s envy and Christian’s curiosity.

  It only took him about ten minutes to figure it out.

  * * *

  —

  Nothing Bella had just told me made any sense. Why would she and Ali be talking about pregnancy? Or Sophie? I was relieved Sophie wasn’t pregnant. I didn’t think my brother was ready for that kind of news.

  As I mixed drinks and greeted customers and puzzled the conversation around in my head, I found it only got more confusing. Bella was a lousy liar and she had been hiding something from me. Her eyes darted to the floor repeatedly and her cheeks had turned pink.

  I hadn’t responded to Ali’s text but now I did, curious.

  Where did you see Bella?

  Pharmacy. Picking up prenatal vitamins.

  “Holy shit,” I said out loud as the truth hit me like a bag of bricks straight between the eyes.

  Sophie wasn’t pregnant. Bella was.

  That explained her glow. Her happy smile. Her deliciously full tits.

  She was pregnant.

  For a split second I thought I was going to actually explode. Just burst apart and scatter skin, blood, and bones across this bar. Shock and something else I couldn’t define rose up inside me. I turned and poured myself a shot of whiskey. I took it back with one swallow. Brandy saw me, her eyes going wide.

  “WTF?” she mouthed to me.

  I just shook my head, unable to speak. I slammed up the bar top so I could move into the restaurant and went straight to Bella, no rational thought in my head. She had just taken a customer’s order and turned, almost colliding with me.

  “Oh, hello!” She gave me a smile.

  “Are you pregnant?” I asked without preamble. I didn’t know what I was going to do if she said yes.

  Bella looked around nervously. “Christian…”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Do you really want to do this here?” She tucked her hair behind her ear and swallowed visibly.

  “That’s not an answer either.” I could hear how harsh my voice sounded. I was practically growling, but I couldn’t temper my reaction. It felt like my blood was buzzing past my ears.

  Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped. But then she nodded. “Yes,” she whispered.

  The bottom of my stomach fell out. Again. It had happened again. When the fuck was I ever going to learn? And again, who the hell knew who the father actually was? She had presumably been fucking her fiancé, at least until she had found out about the cheating. Hell, maybe even after.

  I wasn’t sure which would be worse, me or that little prick Bradley being the father.

  “Holy fuck, Bella.” I ran my hand through my hair. “Holy fucking fuck.”

  “It will be okay,” she said, her hand coming out like she wanted to touch me, then changing her mind. But she lifted her chin, took my hand, and tugged. “Come outside. Now, Christian.”

  Her hand felt small and warm in mine. I wanted answers now and I didn’t want to be led around, but yeah, this wasn’t the best place to do this. I didn’t hesitate when the back door slammed behind us. We were by the Dumpster and no one was around. “Who is the father?” I demanded. “Do you know?”

  “I’m almost positive it’s you. I wasn’t with Bradley for the three weeks before the wedding and I had my period in that time. It was after we…after us that I missed one. Once I have an ultrasound they can pinpoint the conception date pretty accurately.”

  I really thought I was going to pass out. I went down into a squat, bending my head to try to get some air. “I’m sorry,” I told her. “This is my fault.”

  “It’s no one’s fault. We used condoms. It just happened.” Her hands came out and stroked my head.

  Her touch was soothing. Maternal. Bella was very maternal, no question about that. Her thighs brushed against the crown of my head. It made me uncomfortable. She didn’t even seem remotely upset.

  I pulled my shit together and stood up, the blood rushing to my brain. I thought about her father saying she was born to be a mother.

  A very ugly thought crowded my mind. Was I being conned? Was this really Bradley’s kid and she was setting me up so she didn’t have to deal with him? It seemed stupid, because Bradley could give her a shit ton of child support, but I knew she didn’t want to talk to him ever again. I also wasn’t a big enough of a dick though to accuse her of that. I would just go to the ultrasound and see for myself. But then I realized that was an Ali move. Not a Bella move. I knew her better than that. Bella had pure motives always.

  Which meant this really was an accident because I had not been careful enough. Which really, truly made me an asshole.

  “I need a drink,” I said. “And I need to tell Brandy I have to leave. I can’t be here right now.”

  She chewed her lip. “Aren’t you even a little bit happy?”

  That shoved me over the edge. “No, princess, I am not happy. I already have one kid under the world’s most fucked-up circumstances and now I’m going to have another one. I thought when I had kid number two Camp would be ten years old and I would be married. But honestly, most of the time I figured I would never do this again.”

  Tears rose in her eyes. “This isn’t the way I saw this happening either, but a baby is a gift, Christian.”

  Sure, on Planet Perfect. I love kids. Just not bringing them into my mess. “When were you going to tell me?” She had to have known for a few weeks now. “When did you find out?”

  “I was going to tell you once I got through the first trimester. A lot of women miscarry…I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure everything was okay. I figured why stress you out and then lose the baby?”

  It sounded logical. Like the truth. Thoughtful. But I was so angry and upset and cynical I felt suspicious. All I could think was I had created another child who was going to grow up under awkward circumstances.

  What was this going to do to our growing relationship?

  And wow, was her dad going to think I was a dick.

  “Did you know when you forced me to wait on sex?” That was a minor point, but kind of annoying. A lot annoying. What the hell were we waiting for if she already knew she was pregnant? That made zero sense and felt a little manipulative.

  Her expression told me she had. “Um, yes?”

  “That’s annoying,” I told her flat out.

  I tried to gather my shit together. I touched her cheek, knowing I needed to offer her at least a little comfort. It was all I could manage.

  “You asked me to trust you,” she said. “And I did. Now I need you to trust me. Everything is going to be okay, Christian.”

  I nodded. I didn’t point out that her trust in me had gotten her knocked up.

  I really was an asshole. I reached out and kissed her forehead. “Go back to work. I’ll call you later.”

  She nodded and gave me a smile. A hopeful one. I couldn’t give one back.

  We walked in together and she went straight back to her tables. I went to the bar.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Brandy asked me.

  “I need to leave,” I told her. “I just found out I got Bella pregnant. Illegitimate kid number two for me. Now that’s winning.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Oh shit…I don’t know what to say.”

  Me either. “I’ll call Thomas and tell him. Can you handle tonight solo?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. Because I’m going to go home and get drunk.”

  * * *

  —

  I actually went on a two-day bender. I knew that wasn’t fair to Camp or to my mother, who was watching him and already had one son in rehab, or to Bella, who was anxiously texting me constantly asking me if I was okay. But I just needed to be alone to t
hink and nurse my disappointment with myself in the bottle.

  I shut all the blinds in my apartment, sat down with the whiskey, and didn’t stop for forty-eight hours, only hitting the pause button to eat, piss, and pass out at random intervals. I had a lot of anger, directed mostly at myself. A little bit at whatever dickhead in charge of fate had decided this would be hilarious. I wasn’t mad at Bella, other than mildly annoyed that she was so fucking sexy I had been unable to resist her.

  I sat on my couch and ran through the last month. The signs had been there. I just hadn’t noticed them. Bella’s quick return to happiness despite the upheaval she had been through. Her glowing skin. The bursting tits. Her demeanor, as if she had a secret. She hummed at work, for God’s sake. Who hummed waiting tables? She was happy. Because she was having a baby. Something she had always wanted.

  Sipping the bottle in the dark I reflected that maybe I should be proud of myself for that. I had given her what she had wanted. Yeah. Good going, Jordan. Spreading my seed to make women happy. At this rate, I’d be better off jerking off at a sperm bank and getting paid for it. Except I would never do that because I wanted to be a part of any child I created.

  How the hell were Bella and I supposed to coparent? We’d just started dating. Sure, I had strong feelings for her, and we were together-together, but this was rushing things big-time.

  I had spent my entire childhood resenting my father and his long absences. I had also resented my mother for putting up with his shit. I had wanted a normal, regular kind of family with two parents who were married and lived together. It had defined me more than I cared to admit, and I had never, ever wanted to repeat that pattern, which was why I hadn’t done relationships. Now I had created anything but the nuclear family. Twice. Fuck.

  Hurling the whiskey bottle across the room, I watched it crash into the wall with a certain sense of satisfaction. Liquid splattered and glass came raining down on the carpet. It was exactly like my life. A mess.

  I thought about Bella and wondered how she had been able to keep such a secret from me these past few weeks. When I had commented on her curves and she had just stayed silent. And this was after being angry with me for saying I would readily keep a secret. I was just drunk enough to call her out on it so I picked up my phone and sent her an angry text.

  And you gave me all that shit about not keeping a big secret.

  It’s not like I wasn’t EVER going to tell you. It’s not the same thing.

  She had half a point. I was too stubborn to admit that though. I didn’t respond to her.

  Christian. Whatever you need or want to do is okay with me. I don’t expect anything from you, I swear.

  She ended it with a kiss emoji.

  I knew she meant it. I knew she was happy just to be having a baby. I knew she was happy with me, but she would be happy without me if she had to be. I thought about how generous and kind and loving she was. She was going to be an amazing mother to our child. I thought about the way she looked at me when she smiled. The way it went all the way to her eyes.

  I had to do the right thing. I had to marry Bella.

  The minute I made that decision I felt instantly better.

  I could do this. I could right my wrongs. I could get full custody of Camp and we could be a blended family. Bella wouldn’t object to that, I was certain of it. We could move into her payoff from Bradley, that awesome little cottage with the fenced garden, and I would make sure I put a man cave in the garage so it didn’t feel too much Bella, too little me. I would get great satisfaction at knowing my presence there would piss off Bradley to no end when he found out.

  As far as futures go, this wasn’t a bad one. It actually sounded pretty fucking awesome. Maybe this was the way it would have ended up anyway. Bella and me and a couple of kids. Because I did love her. I really did.

  I could make this work. Man the fuck up.

  Then there was a knock on the door and I went and answered it, unshaven and reeking of booze. It was a certified letter. Ali was suing for fifty-fifty custody of Camp.

  Fortunately, I had another bottle of whiskey. I took a sip straight from the bottle and let the words on those documents blur in front of my drunken eyes.

  Chapter 17

  Christian didn’t show up for work for two days. Everyone asked me if he was okay and I just shrugged it off. Brandy knew I was pregnant. She had told everyone, so they were all being very kind to me, but the long stares were starting to wear on me. I was embarrassed to admit that I hadn’t heard from him other than cursory texts saying he was fine in response to my concerned megatexts. I started out fine, but the more time passed, the longer my texts started getting. I was trying to be reassuring and supportive and loving all at once.

  Because I was getting scared. This was a long time to avoid me.

  But I was determined not to make any demands. I could take care of myself if I had to. I had already ordered a real bed from IKEA and a sofa and end tables with my waitressing money. I was sure I would get a full-time job long before the baby was born and then I could take maternity leave. I wasn’t stressed, exactly.

  I just wanted Christian to love our baby.

  And, okay, me. I wanted him to love me, because I loved him.

  The last month had been amazing. Being with him was both exciting and easy. It felt effortlessness. Just lots of conversation, laughter, and amazing closeness. It wasn’t just sex. It was intimacy. Bonding. Christian felt it too, I knew he did. And I think it scared him because it was new to him. He wasn’t one for the fairy tale, that was for damn sure.

  Which was evident when he showed up at the restaurant on day three looking strung out and exhausted. He had dark circles under his eyes, a three-day beard, and wrinkled clothes. He came over and kissed me on the forehead as I stood in the doorway to the kitchen, hesitant. This was not how I had wanted to see him again, but hell, I’d take it. He looked calm enough. The kiss was affectionate.

  “Hi,” I said. “I’m glad to see you.”

  “I’m glad to see you too.” He tucked my hair back, his constant gesture of tenderness. “Everything is going to be okay, I promise you that.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Good.” I touched his chest. “I don’t want you and me to change, I hope you know that. I want to be with you.”

  “I know.” He was still oddly serene, but he didn’t exactly say he wanted to be with me.

  Relief mingled with annoyance. We should not be having this conversation at work. But apparently even that was all I was going to get. He tweaked my nose and went back behind the bar to set up for his shift. What the hell?

  By the time my break rolled around, I was fuming. This was all I got? A forehead kiss at our mutual workplace while I took in eight bucks an hour? Seriously? He couldn’t have come over to my place this morning so we could have a freaking private moment?

  One of the other waitresses, who had confessed to me in a giggly moment last week that she had slept with Christian ages ago, kept giving me sympathetic looks, which further irritated me. Everyone clearly knew I was pregnant. Brandy had even said something directly to me. The only person ignoring the situation was our boss and owner, Thomas. Well, and Christian.

  I had ordered myself a salad loaded with veggies for my break and I chose a table way in the back, where it was dark and the vibe was moody. Tourists didn’t like to be seated back there because they couldn’t see the town or the sailboats docked in the marina. I sat down and stabbed my lettuce, realizing that the first time I had ever seen Christian was right here. I had been eating a salad with Sophie and had run to the restroom crying because my wedding dress hadn’t fit right. But mostly because I had seen text messages on Bradley’s phone before I left Boston. Just a quick glimpse before he swiped the screen clear. Now it was eight weeks later and my fantasy wedding hadn’t even happened.

  I worked here.

 
Christian was my boyfriend. Or had been, until he had found out I was pregnant. Now I wasn’t sure.

  If this wasn’t the summer that changed everything, I couldn’t imagine what would be. Yet I was happy. And from day one, from that very first moment I had seen Christian and his pale blue eyes had pierced me, I had been attracted to him. I never would have dreamed then that would have led to this.

  I certainly couldn’t have predicted that Christian would pull out the opposite chair and toss a packet of papers in front of me. “Ali filed for shared custody of Camp,” he said without preamble.

  My fork fell down onto my plate. “Can she do that?”

  “She just did.” He made a face. “I called your father and he gave me a lawyer’s name, so I talked to him this morning.”

  “You called my father?” How did he even have my father’s number? Life just kept getting weirder and weirder.

  “Yes. I figured if anyone would know a killer lawyer, it would be your dad, right?” He looked at me like this was obvious.

  “Well, sure, but…” But what? I suddenly had no idea. “So what did the lawyer say?”

  “He said the odds aren’t great for her because she abandoned him with zero contact. There is no paper or electronic trail indicating she ever tried to see him or get updates on his well-being. But if the judge is feeling sentimental, he or she might side with the mother given that I work nights and I have a pregnant girlfriend who doesn’t live with me and neither does Camp. My mother has shared custody with me currently and is considered the custodial guardian. Technically Ali is suing us both for a request for a reshuffle of custody. So, worst-case scenario, she and I share custody. Which would suck for my son and my mother.”

  A lump formed in the pit of my stomach. “But that’s worst-case scenario. Also, please tell me you didn’t tell the lawyer it’s me who is pregnant. My father doesn’t know.”

  “No, I didn’t tell him.”

  Not that it would take a genius to figure it out. I was going to have to call him pronto. What a mess. I reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, Christian. But it will work out. Ali is not a fit mother, that’s pretty obvious.”