I imagined this morning going down in multiple ways.

I pictured Lance jumping for joy. I suppose that’s where most women go first. We want our partners to be excited about the idea of being a father but even I knew this fantasy was too much given Lance’s history.

Then I pictured him angry. Not at me, of course, but at Marcus. I wanted him to be as pissed off and violated as I am by the whole thing.

I ended up somewhere in-between. I pictured him shocked like me. One day you’re not pregnant but you are the next. It’s shocking, to put it mildly. I thought he’d take the initial emotional hit then slip on his Lance Tyler Attorney at Law suit and we’d sit down and work it through.

I never once pictured him accusing me. The words get out never came to mind.

I need a drink.

Thank god it’s Sunday.

The pleasant scent of Moira’s Cafe fills my nose as I step inside but it’s not as warm blankety as it usually is. The hostess’ voice goes in one ear and out the other as I pass by the station. My tongue feels stiff and tastes like old water. All of my senses feel dull and worthless.

I wander to our table on auto-pilot and plop into the last empty chair.

“Hey, guys,” I murmur.

I glance up and pause as I make eye contact with the two elderly ladies sitting across from me. My brow arches. Did I stumble into a time machine? What year is it?

“Nora?” I ask one of them.

“Trix, we’re over here!”

I twist in my chair to see Nora and Melanie snickering from a different table in the opposite corner.

“Oh,” I say, offering an apologetic nod to the old ladies. “Excuse me.”

I get up and make my way over there. Any other day and I might feel a spike of embarrassment over this but life has already beaten the feeling out of me today.

I glare into their smiling faces. “Why are we sitting over here?” I ask, annoyed.

Melanie shrugs. “They reserved the table, apparently.”

“But we always sit there.” My eyes wander the new, foreign corner. “That’s our table.”

Nora nods. “Yeah, well, we’re stuck here until the old bats move.”

“Or die, whichever comes first,” Melanie jokes. “The one on the right looks about ready to keel over at any second...”

I grab the nearest mimosa out of habit. “Whatever. I can’t bring myself to care right now.”

“Wait!” Nora launches forward, hands raised. “Don’t drink that.”

I stop, staring longingly at it for another moment before reluctantly surrendering it and picking up the glass of water in front of me.

“This is gonna be a long nine months,” I say.

Melanie takes an unapologetic sip of her mimosa. “Did you talk to Lance?” she asks.

“I did.”

Nora reaches for my hand. “How’d he take it?” she asks.

“Bad.”

Melanie grunts. “Dick.”

“What’d he say?” Nora asks.

“He accused me of doing it on purpose,” I answer.

Her jaw drops. “No, he didn’t.”

I nod. “He did. To be honest, though, I almost don’t blame him. This whole situation was fucked up from the start. We even thought he was playing me at one point, remember? He has more than enough reason to suspect the same of me.”

“So, what,” Melanie says, “he just accused you and then...?”

“And then, he told me to get out,” I say, painfully reliving it for the dozenth time since I left his house.

“Okay.” She exhales. “I hate him again.”

Nora rubs the back of my hand. “Me, too.”

“Thanks, guys.” I pick up my water glass and take a drink, pretending it’s something much, much stronger. “He probably just needs some time to cool off. He said the last woman he got pregnant died in his arms. There’s no way I can ever imagine what’s going through his head right now, you know?”

Nora nods. “Sounds like a classic case of man feels emotion, man pushes woman away to hide it, man comes groveling back after moment of clarity.”

“I hope so.” I draw a line through the condensation on my glass. “I’ll go see him again in a few days if he hasn’t called me by then.”

“Good plan,” Melanie says. “For now, just try to relax. Stress isn’t good for you, knocked up or not.”

“If only it were that simple.” I sigh. “Without Lance on my side, my entire family is doomed. Maybe I should do something about this baby now so I don’t end up giving birth in prison.”

“You are not going to give birth in prison,” Nora says. “Lance is of questionable quality at the moment but there’s no way he’d let that happen. ... Right?”

“You’re right. He won’t. Because my father would have already killed me by then. What’s one more lifetime sentence on top of the one he’s getting anyway?” I collapse onto my palms to rub my eyes. “I am so fucked.”

Melanie throws her hand up in the air as Roger passes. “We need cake. Now. Doesn’t matter what kind, just make it snappy.”

He nods and quickly rushes off toward the kitchen.

I push my hair back as I sit up. “I need some good news.”

Melanie beams. “You’re getting cake!”

“More,” I say.

“Uh...” She stutters as she looks desperately at Nora across the table. “I can see if they have pie?”

“Oh!” Nora says. “Now that Clive is back working at Red Brick, I get to use his employee discount on sex toys.”

I nod. “Okay, that’s... nice. Mel?”

Melanie stares blankly. “You might get some pie, too?”

“What about the secret admirer?” Nora asks. “You guys still talking dirty and whatnot?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” Melanie bites her lip. “Should I ask to meet up? Part of me really wants to but the other part is really freaked out by the idea.”

“Why?” I ask. “You like him, right?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s not everything. What if he’s too old? Or too young? Or unattractive? We might click with words but the rest could be a nightmare.”

“Just do it already,” I mutter. “Carpe diem and get it over with. You’re gonna end up with him anyway, might as well speed it up.”

Melanie raises her brow.

Nora reaches for my hand again. “Trix...”

My eyes sting with tears. “And while you’re both busy being all gross and happy with your flowers and your cheap sex toys, I’ll be here all alone with my glasses of water and my gigantic baby bump waiting for the day the police come knocking at my door because the father of my baby thinks I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster, honey.”

“And you’re not going to be alone, either,” Melanie says. “You have us... even if you are being kind of a bitch right now.”

I deflate onto my hands again and wipe my eyes. “I’m sorry, you guys. Is it too early to blame the hormones?”

“No,” Nora answers. “Blame away.”

Melanie quickly unrolls a cloth napkin and hands it to me.

“Thank you,” I say, dabbing beneath my eyes. “The most frustrating part is that I can’t even get drunk.”

They chuckle.

“Maybe all three of us should swear off booze while one of us pregnant,” Nora suggests. “Suffer in solidarity and all that.”

Melanie glares at her. “You shut your whore mouth, Payne.”

I laugh. “I appreciate that but... drink all you want. No reason why you guys should suffer for my mistake.” I set the napkin down and take a deep breath. “I just need to relax.”

“Right,” Nora says.

“Nothing’s decided. The world isn’t over yet. I just need a few quiet, stress-less hours to clear my head.”

Melanie nods. “Deal with it later.”

I raise my glass. “It’s Tomorrow Trix’s problem now.”

I bring my glass to my lips and take a sip. As I set it down again, my eyes lock on the dark shape across the cafe.

Marcus fucking Donner is standing outside the restaurant with his hands cupped against the windows, his eyes scanning the tables for me.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I say.

Nora and Melanie twist in their chairs and gasp.

“Again?” Nora asks.

Melanie squints. “What’s up with his face?”

I make eye contact with him, noticing what she means. The skin around his right eye is black and puffy. His lip is split open and a butterfly bandage clings to his swollen nose.

I stand up. “I’ll be right back,” I say.

“Are you sure you should go out there?” Melanie asks.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

I move through the cafe, slipping around the tables on my way to the entrance. Marcus backs away from the windows and I see even more bruises along his jawline.

As I step outside, I pause at the small cast on his right wrist. Wow. Gavin and Danny really did do a number on him.

“Hey,” I say.

Marcus bows his head. “Ms. Argento.”

I almost smile. So professional. “What’s up?” I ask.

“Your brothers sent me to get you,” he says. “Something happened at the jail. It’s your dad.”

I stiffen. “What happened?”

“We shouldn’t talk about it here.”

“Marcus, what happened?” I ask again.

He glances around and lowers his voice. “I don’t know the details but... he might have... attacked somebody.”

My jaw drops. “Papa attacked somebody? Who?”

“Lance.”

I blink. “He attacked Lance?!”

“And now he’s asking for you.”

“Why would—”

I stop with a grunt as nausea plagues my gut. I bend forward slightly, breathing deeply until it passes.

Marcus takes a step back. “You okay?”

“Yep,” I say to the ground.

“Are you sure?”

I straighten up. “I’ll grab my purse.”

So much for a few quiet, stress-less hours.

I’ll relax when I’m dead.