Chapter Twenty-eight
Ashton
I’m an asshole.
I deserve Sadie’s anger, but acknowledging that doesn’t stop it from punching me in the gut. As I drive to the hospital, I’m plagued by the betrayal in her jade eyes as those elevator doors slid shut.
And I’m plagued by the harsh reality of Corinne’s frantic words. She sounded so scared over the phone, and that made her situation…our situation real. And to think I avoided talking to her for a whole week after she told me the news.
Have I mentioned I’m an asshole?
Not even the rock music pouring through the speakers is drowning out the weight of the mess I got myself into. Fuck, I should have told Sadie. I should have done a lot of shit, like not taking the coward’s way out by avoiding Corinne. As I pull into the parking lot of the emergency room and kill the engine, I don’t know what I’m going to find beyond the front entrance.
There’s only one way to find out, and it doesn’t involve being a coward. I make my way across the deserted parking lot and enter through the automatic sliding doors. Corinne is sitting in the waiting area. The instant she sees me, she spans the distance between us.
Her eyes are tired and red as if she’s been crying. “Thanks for coming. My car broke down a while back, and my sister dropped me off, but she’s on the graveyard shift, so I’m stuck without a ride home.”
“Of course. I’m glad you called. Is the baby okay?”
And that’s the moment her pregnancy really starts to set in.
She nods. “Can we just get out of here?”
I dart a glance at the receptionist. “Do they need my information? You shouldn’t have to bear the financial responsibility on your own.” It’s probably too little too late, but I’m hoping late is better than never.
“It’s been taken care of. They already discharged me.”
“If you want them to send me the bill, I can—”
“Ashton, it’s fine. Please, can we just go?”
I want to argue, but the ragged lines of her face are worrisome enough that I decide getting her home is the best course of action for now. We can argue semantics later. As we walk toward my car, she peeks at me from under her long lashes, and I get the feeling she wants to say something.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine. The baby’s fine. The doctor says I just need to take it easy for a few days and avoid stress.” She eyes me again. “Will you stay with me tonight? Just in case…I mean…” She lets out a quick breath.
“What is it, Corinne?”
“I’m scared I’ll start bleeding again.”
Her words jerk the ground from under my feet. Not only is she pregnant, but she might be in danger of losing the baby. I’ve always known I wanted kids. I just never imagined it happening like this.
But it is happening, and no matter the circumstances, there’s a fundamental part of me that wants to give this baby the kind of father I never had.
One who sticks around for the long term—the kind of dad who puts his child before himself.
My world seems to spin around me as I unlock the passenger side door and help her into the seat. “I’ll stay tonight, but you’re gonna be fine, okay?”
“Thank you,” she says with a dip of her head. Her blond hair falls forward, obscuring her face. “I almost forgot…” She pulls something from her purse. “They did an ultrasound.”
I take the black and white paper with unsteady fingers and study the image under the car’s dome light. The baby is tiny, little more than a tadpole-shape nestled in the middle of the photo.
“Wow,” I murmur, unable to tear my gaze from the image. In the upper right-hand corner, today’s date is listed, along with Corinne’s last name. I’m holding the first tangible proof that I’m going to be a father.
And the thought terrifies me. I’ll be responsible for another human life, a child whose heart is designed to love unconditionally. A child filled with innocence until the world teaches him or her differently.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” She gazes up at me, lashes fluttering. “We made that, Ashton.”
I’m too choked up to say anything, so I hand her the ultrasound image and close her door before rounding the hood and sliding into the driver’s seat. We spend the short trip to her apartment complex in silence. Every few seconds, I sense her watching me, but she doesn’t say anything until we’re out of the car and standing at her front door.
“You don’t have to stay,” she says, the note of hurt in her voice apparent over the jingling of keys. “I want your support, but I’m not going to force it.”
“I’m here, Corinne.”
She pushes the door open, and I follow her into the apartment.
“Are you?” Her purse and keys are dropped on a table near the entrance, then she faces me, hands on her hips. “Because it doesn’t feel like you’re here at all.”
“I’m here, okay? I’m just…I’m still processing it all.”
She lets out a breath of relief, but I can hardly get air into my lungs. What I don’t tell her is how I’m not ready to be a father. Not even a little. But I don’t want her to abort, either, and if I fail to do the right thing, or say the right thing, she might consider that option.
“I’ve just been so stressed.” She grasps my hand between both of hers. “I haven’t heard from you since I told you about the baby.”
“I know,” I say, shame taking root in my stomach. “I’m sorry I shut you out. It was a cowardly, dick move. I wasn’t ready to face it, I guess.”
“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
I nod, my throat too thick with guilt to do much else. This is the last place I want to be right now, and Corinne isn’t the woman I’m aching for. She’s sure as hell not the woman I want carrying my child.
“You have no idea how comforting it is to have you here.” She brushes her fingers up my forearm. “I’ve been so scared.”
If my fear is consuming me like this, I can only imagine how she must feel. “Let’s get you in bed. Doctors orders, right?”
“Right.”
I usher her into the bedroom and fold down the bedding. She kicks off her sneakers, removes her jeans, and crawls in, but she grabs my hand before I’m able to pull away.
“Will you hold me?”
I stumble back, out of reach. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll be here for the baby, and I’ll help you with whatever you need, but I need you to know something.”
Her eyes narrow, and gone is the scared, fragile lines of her face. “Don’t say it, Ashton. I don’t want to hear it. I can’t take the stress.”
And I can’t foster delusions, no matter how much she might want me to. Even though I held proof of her pregnancy in my hands, there’s still a small part of me that wonders if the baby is mine, especially when she looks at me the way she is now, with calculation in her gaze.
“I won’t lie to you, Corinne. I’m seeing someone.”
“You’re always seeing someone. That isn’t a newsflash.” A tremor in her voice betrays her nonchalant attitude, and I’m positive she detected the truth in my words.
I reiterate them anyway. “It’s serious this time.”
She props herself up on her elbows and shoots a pointed glance at her flat belly. “So is this.”
“I realize that.”
“Who is she?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“How the hell can you say it doesn’t matter? Our child needs a father. Not a baby daddy.”
With a sigh, I push on her shoulders until she’s reclining in bed again. “Get some rest. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
She stares at me with her big, brown eyes threatening to spill over. “Are you leaving?”
“No, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“I don’t want to do this alone.”
“You’re not alone. I’ll be in the next room.” I know it’s not what she meant, but before she can correct me, I escape into the dark shadows of her living room, and only then do I allow myself to breathe again.
So much for not taking the coward’s way out.