Chapter Twenty-Five
Theo
I have to admit, this is a great time to work out. Only two guys grunt out sets with free weights, and three others mindlessly jog on treadmills. At this time of night, I don’t have to fight for a weight bench. I swipe into the fitness center, and Darla catches my eye. I wave, and she heads my way.
“Hey,” I say. “Got called in too?”
I surprise myself by being able to eke out even one syllable. I get so goofy when I see her. When I’m around her, it gets hard to walk for various reasons. I want to grab her and forget there are people around. I take a few calming breaths and count to ten.
“I stopped by to get some work done after our lovely meet and greet with Mallory. Sue, the weekend exercise specialist, was green around the gills. I sent her home, so I’m locking up.”
“My lucky day, I guess.” Liar.
“Whatever you say, Dr. Edwards.” Sounds like she didn’t buy my lame excuse one bit. She’s now able to read me like yesterday’s news. “Do you want me to hold your kit?”
“Sure, thanks.” I hand it to her. “About Mallory—”
“Don’t worry about it. Now, go try to get a decent workout.”
She points to the weights and shoos me away. I walk backward toward the bench, not wanting to break eye contact, when I trip over a weight that was left on the floor. I’m not very slick.
She covers her laughter with her hand and moves to the sea of treadmills. On the way, she picks up a folded piece of paper that was on the floor next to her feet. Without reading it, she slides it into the waistband of her yoga pants. She starts up a conversation with an elderly man huffing out a jog.
I bang out a few sets, but it’s hard concentrating when she’s wearing yoga pants that leave little to the imagination. I’m going to pass out if I don’t breathe soon. She catches me staring at her and motions for me to follow her. I almost drop a dumbbell on my foot.
She practically skips down the hallway, past the dressing rooms and into a conference room. I follow like a puppy, hoping I know where this is heading.
She sits on the conference table and grabs my T-shirt to tug me closer to her. “I can only stay off the floor a few minutes, but wanted to see you. You need to get a handle on your… fiancé.”
I slide her knees apart so I can get as close to her as humanly possible without being obscene. I mean, as much as I would like to take her blouse off, I don’t think she would appreciate it if I got her fired. “Hush. I think I need a fitness assessment. Can you check my heart rate during strenuous exercise?”
She pulls my face to hers and kisses me. Oh, I’m a goner. As if I’m running on autopilot, I slide my hands around her waist.
“Not strenuous enough,” I whisper.
She pushes me away. “Don’t you ever think of anything else?”
“Not when I’m around you, but every now and then, I think about baseball.”
“Thinking about Mallory right now?”
“Who is Mallory?”
Her bottom lip is getting a workout from the way she’s nibbling on it. “You have some unresolved issues to deal with.” She focuses on her hands. “So do I.”
I tilt her chin up so she has to look me in the eye. “No issues on my part, I promise.”
My feather-light kisses on her neck make her hum in my ear.
“So, nothing I say to you will make you leave me?”
I slide her hair off her shoulder so I can kiss that sensitive spot behind her ear. She responds by latching on to my shoulders.
“Nothing you say will change the way I feel about you.” I slide my hands up her thighs, nearing her hip bones.
She stops my hands with hers. “Are you trying to get me fired?”
“Trying to show you I have no issues.”
She gives me a quick peck on the lips and stares at me. “I’m ready to tell you. I’ve been trying to work up the nerve, then Mallory made me doubt if I should, but I’m ready.”
Yes. Finally. A warmness overcomes me and spills out into what is probably the goofiest grin I’ve ever made. I love this woman. I hope once she tells me, she’ll be able to feel the same way.
My phone buzzes, but I don’t break eye contact with Darla.
“You see… please understand…”
My phone buzzes again. “Go on.”
“The night at the party—”
My fricking phone buzzes for a third time.
She groans. “If you don’t answer that, whoever it is will continue texting you until you reply.”
Dammit. When I read the text, my chin hits the floor. The room closes in on me, and if I don’t leave, I’m going to throw up all over Darla. I’m sure my blood pressure and my sugar levels are off the charts.
“You okay?”
“No.” I cannot believe this. There must be some mistake.
“Work?”
I read the words on my phone display again. I squeeze my eyes shut and hope when I open them again, the text will be a fluke.
“I wish.” I stumble away. “I need to go.”
I gather up my kit and my keys and head outside. I read the text again.
We need to talk. We are pregnant. CU at your car, Mal.
I feel as if I’m swimming through Jell-O to get to my car. My feet won’t move, and I don’t really want them to. Mallory leans up against my car, still dressed in her professional business suit and high heels. She must keep late hours at the office. When she sees me coming, she stiffens and stands taller. Her blond hair whips across her face in the wind.
“Hey,” I croak out. I don’t know what’s appropriate to say when someone tells you through a text that she’s pregnant. I’m not sure if “congratulations” or “are you going to keep it” is the right thing to say. If I don’t want to get smacked, I won’t ask if it’s mine. I don’t feel like getting smacked tonight.
“Hey,” she says and hugs me.
I loosely hug her back. I stuff my hands in my hoodie pockets to keep them from shaking. We don’t say anything for eons.
“So…” I can’t form more than one syllable.
I lean against my car and gaze up at the cloudless sky. I cannot believe this. I don’t love her. She doesn’t love me. It wasn’t much more than passing time together. And we were always, always careful. It’s virtually impossible for me to get her pregnant. This pregnancy is either the world’s suckiest timing, not mine, or a sick, twisted lie.
“I don’t know what to say,” I finally admit.
She lights a cigarette, takes a puff, and hands it to me. I take it from her and almost suck in the noxious nicotine before I flick it away. She knows I hate smoking, and she shouldn’t be smoking in her condition, anyway.
She huffs. Typical. “Say you’ll give us another chance.”
I close my eyes. Of course she wants me to give her another chance. That’s the right thing to do. The boa constrictor around my heart squeezes out the answer she wants. That’s what I know I should do. But I’m not sure I want to. I nod.
She exhales and wraps her arms around my waist, while my hopes of a life with Darla drift away in the warm summer breeze. I want kids so badly, I would suffer through a loveless life to be a father.
“How far along are you?”
“Um, not sure. About a month.” She twists her necklace around her index finger, making the last joint of her finger beet red.
I nod. But in my mind, I’m doing the math. I’ve been back in Nashville for a month, and it has been longer than that since the last time we were intimate. Maybe she’s further along than she thinks.
“But we haven’t—”
“Maybe a bit longer. I’m not sure.”
I brace myself for the coming wrath. “Have you been with—”
“Theo! How dare you ask me such a thing.” She sniffles. “That’s the meanest.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I thought we were being real careful. Condoms, birth control pills, you name it.”
“Me too,” she whispers.
“I need some time to process all of this. You know I will do what’s right for the baby, but… I can’t promise you anything more. Not yet.”
She blinks at me as though she can’t believe I didn’t cave. She plasters on a thin-lipped smile. “Of course.”
Mallory has the maternal instincts of a Tasmanian devil, so if this child stands half a chance of being nurtured, I have to be involved on some level.
There has to be a way to make this right and still be with Darla. And if not, I might go against my no-alcohol rule and pour myself a stiff drink or two.
Mallory kisses me on my cheek. “I’ll call you later.” She gets in her car and drives away.
I stand at my car, consumed by the silence. I’m going to be a father. This is the one thing I didn’t think could ever happen. I should be thrilled, but I’m not.
A few people shuffle out of the fitness center, and Darla locks the door. That’s why I can’t be happy. Because she still holds the key to my soul, and I don’t want it back. She notices me.
I try to get in my car and hide, but it’s too late. From across the parking lot, she cocks her head to the side. No matter how I try to hide my pained expression, her maternal instincts must kick in, because she zones in on my emotions.
She rushes over to me. “Hey, I thought you had an emergency.”
I nod. “It’s being taken care of, for now.”
“That’s good.”
She slides an arm around my waist, but for once, I’m not feeling frisky. I move her arm away from me. She holds her hands out in defense.
I lean over the roof of my car and rub my temples. Her baby-lotion scent wafts over me.
“Do you want to talk?” Darla asks.
We sit in my car for what feels like an eternity, neither of us saying a word. I swallow the massive amount of crap that has accumulated in my throat. I cannot believe I’m about to say this to her, but she deserves to know the truth. I would never try to keep anything like this from her.
“The text was from Mallory.”
“Is she all right?”
I nod. “She’s uh… she’s pregnant.”
I don’t want to see her reaction, but I have to; I have to face her.
She stares out of the window on her side of the car. She bites her bottom lip, and a slight tear trickles down her cheek.
“Congratulations,” she whispers and opens the door.
She gets out and rushes away. Seeing her run off kills me. I know, at this moment, I have lost her for good. No matter how much I love Darla, I have to do what is right for this baby.
If it is my baby.