How could I be so stupid?

THIS WEEK HAS BEEN crazy. The day after the bridal shower, work took me back to New York to finalize the deal with Roger Diamond. Jason lined up some other clients in the area to meet with while I was there, so I’m just getting back four days later.

Quinn and I have talked every day, but I feel like something has changed. She seems distant; I’m afraid I ran my big mouth and told her I love her too soon.

I know she wasn’t looking for anything serious when we started.

But I also know she’s falling in love with me, too. I can see it in her eyes, in the way they soften when she looks at me. I can see it in the way she comforts me, how she sticks up for me, even when I’m the one talking badly about myself.

I miss her like crazy. The distance, both physical and emotional, is killing me. I need to see her, kiss her, touch her, make her remember how amazing we are.

But first, I need to wrap up a few things before I leave work and head to happy hour. Max and Logan told me in no uncertain terms that I couldn’t ditch them tonight.

I finalize the additions to Quinn’s website. She gave me her password weeks ago when I offered to redo it for her, so I uploaded some of the pictures I took of her in her studio as well as some of the pictures of her most recent pieces. What she had before was pretty basic, but she admitted that she didn’t get many customers through her website and relied on Art Redefined’s site to promote her pieces. I figure it can’t hurt to have a better website.

I can’t wait for the next open house, either. Suzanne loved my ideas to integrate my photography with Quinn’s pieces, so I attach the photos and email them to her. I’m so excited to connect my art with Quinn’s—I just hope she feels the same way.

The scary part is that I want to connect more than just my art with Quinn—I’ve been thinking about us moving in together, too. We sleep together every night (when I’m not out of town anyway) and it makes no sense to keep paying for two places when there’s plenty of room at either place for the both of us. But that niggling feeling in the back of my mind tells me not to push this too soon. I don’t want to spook her more with talk of moving in together before I have a chance to find out why she’s acting off lately.

30 minutes later, I’m shocked to find I’m the first one at O’Malley’s. I nurse a beer and take out my cell to text Quinn.

Me: Hey, we still on for tonight?

Red: Yeah, sounds good

Me: I’ll be there in a couple of hours. I miss you.

Red: Okay.

I frown at that response. No I miss you too. The niggle in the back of my head blossoms into worry. What’s wrong? What did I miss? How could I have misread the signs?

“Uh-oh, is there trouble in paradise?” Logan asks me. I’m startled to find him standing over my shoulder, reading my texts.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me. When did you become a ninja?”

“I’ve always been a ninja.” He smirks.

I stand and greet him with a hand clasp and shoulder smack as Max walks up, catching us mid-embrace. “Aww, I need some love, too.”

“Fuck off,” I say with a smile and yank him in for a real hug, squeezing him extra hard. “I can’t believe you’re having a baby,” I say into his ear.

“I know, I can’t believe it either, but I’ve had some time to get used to the idea. I can’t wait.”

We sit and Shirley comes over to take our order.

“How was your trip?” Max asks me.

“Work-wise, it was awesome.”

“Work-wise?” Logan raises his eyebrows for clarification.

I sigh. “Yeah. I’m killing it at work. My boss even mentioned an opening in management to me.”

“Management? I never knew you wanted to go into management,” Max says.

“I never did, but the more I think about it, the more the idea is growing on me. It would mean a huge pay raise and less traveling.”

“I thought you loved traveling.”

“I used to, but lately it just…”

“It takes you away from Quinn.” Max hits the nail right on the head.

“Bingo.” Logan points to Max. “The look on your face says it all. You are officially pussy-whipped, too. I knew this day would come.” Logan and Max smile wide at each other.

“Yeah, yeah. You guys know everything,” I mutter.

Max turns to me, all of a sudden serious. “So I wanted to ask you about something.”

His somber expression scares me. “What is it? Do you need an organ? You can have anything I have two of.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. At the party after I made the announcement about the baby, Monica was worried about Quinn for some reason.”

I squint, surprised at this. “Why?”

“Not sure, but we couldn’t find you guys so we peeked outside and saw you on the back deck. You both looked upset.”

My face heats, embarrassed that he saw me having an emotional meltdown. I look away, unsure what to say. How do I explain myself to him? Quinn’s words echo in my brain, telling me that sharing what happened might help me grieve. Let your friends lighten the load you carry.

“I saw you, too,” Logan says quietly. “I’ve never seen you so upset.”

“Is Quinn pregnant?” Max asks.

I blow out a breath. “No.”

“Then…what is it?” Max asks gently. “I mean, you don’t have to tell us, but…fuck Charlie, if there’s anything I can do, just let me know.” His bright blue eyes meet mine, full of worry. I look between him and Logan, whose brown eyes shine with concern.

I clench my jaw and swallow down the lump in my throat. I can do this. I can tell my best friends in the whole world what happened, but can I do it without crying? I’m not sure, but fuck it. They’re my best friends in the whole world.

“There’s something I never told you guys,” I start.

They both lean closer, attention locked on me, waiting for me to continue.

“Remember when Anna and I broke up?”

They both look a bit thrown at the topic, but they nod.

“I remember being so surprised that she cheated on you. You were torn up for a while after that,” Logan comments carefully.

I take a deep, fortifying breath and continue. “Well, she never cheated on me. We broke up for a different reason.”

Max’s eyes narrow, and I can see the wheels turning in his brain. “Did she get pregnant?” he asks quietly.

I nod, defeated, and proceed to tell them the whole thing—the plans Anna and I made when we were young and in love, the way she hid the pregnancy and the abortion from me until it was done, even the nightmares that still plague me from time to time. Eye contact proves too difficult, so I grab a napkin and start shredding it while I talk.

When I’m done, the only sounds are from the rest of the bar. Neither Max nor Logan has said one word the entire story and now that I’m finished, their silence is killing me. I take a deep, cleansing breath and look up.

Max’s fists clenched, facial expression a cross between shock and anger. Is he mad at me? Logan looks just as shocked, though less upset.

“Say something. If you’re mad at me, just say it already,” I tell Max.

“Mad at you?” he asks, incredulous. “Why would I be mad at you?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, but you look mad right now.”

“I’m mad for you. I can’t believe you went through that. I hate that she didn’t tell you about it,” Max says earnestly.

Relief loosens my muscles and I slump forward, resting my forearms on the table, exhausted from spilling my guts.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Logan asks.

“Fuck, we were 16 years old. I didn’t know how to process it myself and the easiest way was to give you a different reason, bury it deep, and start fucking other girls.”

“I don’t think I’d have been able to fuck anyone else for fear of getting them pregnant,” Logan admits.

“I never went without a condom.” Not until Quinn, anyway.

“No wonder you were upset last week. I’m sorry I blindsided you with the news. If I had known, I would have told you privately so you could wrap your mind around it without company there.”

“It is what it is.” I shrug. “You didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” Logan says.

“It sucks that you had to go through that,” Max adds. “But you can talk to us, you know? Sometimes just getting it off your chest makes a difference.”

He’s right. Having them acknowledge what I went through, it helps. My chest feels lighter, and breathing…it’s easier.

I nod, looking at my best friends, and somehow the seriousness of the moment brings out an inappropriate laugh. I just unloaded my painful past on my best friends in the middle of a bar, and we’re sitting here, getting all emotional in public. All the emotion of a moment ago turns into levity and I bust up. At first, they gawk at me like I’ve lost my mind, which only makes me laugh harder, but then Logan joins in, as does Max, and soon the three of us are laughing so hard the people at the bar start looking at us to see what is so funny.

We settle down and I drain my beer, smashing down the pile of shredded napkin in front of me.

“I just have one more question,” Max says, eyebrows furrowed.

“Shoot.”

“If you guys were outside last week because you got upset, why was Monica worried about Quinn?”

I mull this over. Why would Monica have been worried about Quinn?

“Are you sure Quinn isn’t pregnant?” Logan asks.

“No, she isn’t pregnant. She knows what happened with Anna, she would tell me,” I say.

“So you’re still using condoms every time?” Max asks.

I hesitate. I haven’t been using condoms with Quinn, but I’m sure she’s on birth control. I mean, Quinn and I weren’t even exclusive when we started going without them; she didn’t want kids any more than I did. I just figured she thought it was safe to go without and I trusted her.

“Fuck, Charlie. What birth control is she using?” Max asks.

“I don’t know,” I admit.

“You didn’t ask?”

I shake my head. How could I be so stupid?

“When was the last time she had her period?” Max asks.

“How am I supposed to know that?” I bark, anxiety filling my stomach again.

“I assume you’re fucking her regularly; it’s kind of hard to miss when they’re on their period.” Logan rolls his eyes.

I rack my brain, trying to remember Quinn having her period, and come up with nothing. We’ve been sleeping together for months, and not once has she ever turned me down due to her period.

“Well, let’s just say she is pregnant, how would you feel about that?” Max asks.

I think about it. Quinn, carrying my child, her belly growing round with our baby…having a little girl with Quinn’s wild red hair, or a little boy with my dimples.

My heart starts to beat faster and I smile at the thought of having a family with Quinn. I’m in love with her. I can’t imagine having a family with anyone else.

“Oh fuck, you’re smiling. I can’t believe this, Charlie Nelson. You’re smiling at the thought of her pregnant,” Logan observes.

“I don’t know anything yet, but I’m headed over there tonight after we’re done here.”

“Well what the fuck are you waiting for? Go ask her!”

I stand, reaching for my wallet. Logan puts up his hand for me to stop. “We got this covered. Just go.”

“Thanks!” I call over my shoulder, practically running out the door.

“Text us!” Max shouts.

“I will, bye!”

Maybe that’s why she’s been distant—she’s pregnant but she doesn’t know how I’ll react. This time I refuse to be kept in the dark.

 

“I’M SO SORRY, MRS. Campbell,” Dr. Stewart, my OB-Gyn says to me, eyes serious and full of concern. “You’re bleeding internally. This is because the placenta has invaded into the uterine wall, into the layer of muscle and has started to invade your bladder. We are going to have to do emergency surgery.”

“But the baby…I’m only five months pregnant.” How can they do surgery on my uterus now without harming Noah?

“We will do everything we can to save the baby, but I have to be completely honest with you, his chances are not good. At 19 weeks gestation, his lungs are not stable enough to breathe on their own.”

“Then I don’t want the surgery.” I cradle my belly, the small baby bump only just starting to show.

“Without the surgery, you’ll die. This won’t fix itself.” I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping this is a nightmare, hoping I’ll wake up soon.

“I don’t care. I’ll take that chance,” I tell the doctor.

“Quinn, don’t be stupid,” Reid says. “We can have other kids.”

“I don’t want other kids, I want this one!” I shout, tears spilling in hot rivers down my face.

Dr. Stewart sighs regretfully, and I know I’m not going to like what he has to say next. “Actually, there is a strong likelihood that we may have to remove your uterus.”

“What?” I say, not understanding. Reid squeezes my hand.

“Isn’t that a hysterectomy?” Reid asks.

He nods. “It is often difficult to separate the placenta from the uterus and preserve the uterus at the same time. We will make every effort, but you will likely need a hysterectomy.”

Numbness seeps into me. This is too much. I can’t think.

Noah might not survive. He probably won’t.

They’ll likely need to remove my uterus, which means I can’t ever have kids again.

I won’t ever get to feel my child growing in my belly.

I won’t ever get to be a mom.

“I’ll give you guys a minute, but there is no decision to make here. You need this surgery, Mrs. Campbell.”

When I hear the click of the door, the sobs take over. Reid hugs me to him, smoothing my hair and rubbing my back.

“I can’t do this.”

“It’s okay, Quinn. We’ll deal with this.”

“How?”

“Together. I’ll be there every step of the way.”

A knock on the door snaps me out of my thoughts. I quickly wipe the tears off my face, amazed that I can still produce them. Footsteps approach the kitchen and I steel myself for what I have to do. Be strong.

Charlie comes into view—beautiful Charlie, with his blond hair, blue eyes, and golden skin. Why does he have to be so beautiful? It hurts to look at him.

“Hey,” he says. Why does his voice have to sound so good?

“Hi.”

He comes closer and I try not to breathe. This doesn’t work, of course, and his scent reaches me before he does, woods and spice wrapping around me like a familiar warm blanket. Why does he have to smell so good?

“I missed you,” he says warmly. Why does he have to be so sweet?

I can’t do anything but nod, not wanting to tell him I missed him too, that I haven’t washed the sheets on my bed so I could hug his pillow and smell him every night.

“Did you miss me too?” His eyes burn into mine and I know I’ve done a piss-poor job of hiding the fact that things are going to change, but I couldn’t break it off with him while he was away. As difficult as it is, this needed to happen face to face.

I look away and take a deep breath. “We need to talk.”

He nods, not surprised.

Heaviness fills me, my limbs weighing a thousand pounds. I open my mouth to rip the bandage off but he interrupts me. “Are you pregnant?”

His question pierces me and I can’t stop the sharp intake of breath at the agony I feel. Oh, how I wish were.

“No, why would you ask me that?”

“Are you on birth control? I should have asked you after that first time we went without condoms, but I assumed you were on something. I’ve come inside you a thousand times and I don’t remember you having a period. You would tell me if you were pregnant, right?” Vulnerability makes his voice quiet, but I hear his fear. He thinks I’m pulling an Anna, but I’m not.

“I’m—”

“I wouldn’t freak out on you, Quinn. I know I’m fucked up from what happened before, but I’d be there for you. I’m here for you. We haven’t talked much about the future, but nothing would make me happier than having a family with you.”

I close my eyes, the pain too much to bear. I can’t look at him anymore, the hope in his eyes, the love in his face, the tenderness in his stance, he’s too perfect. If I needed any more convincing that what I’m about to do is the right thing, he just gave it to me. Charlie deserves to have a family with someone.

That someone just isn’t going to be me.

I clear my throat. “And how would that work? We would get a babysitter when we want to have a threesome?” My voice is strong. Good job. Keep going.

His eyes cloud with confusion. “What? I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying I don’t think this is going to work out for me anymore, Charlie.”

He gawks, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why? Because of the threesomes? I told you, we don’t have to do that if you don’t want to. It can just be me and you.” His eyes pin me, and he begs me to tell him the truth. “Why won’t you tell me whether or not you’re pregnant?” He’s so tense, his shoulders bunch up, and I long to soothe him with my touch.

I meet his gaze and tell him. “I’m not pregnant.”

“Are you sure? Why haven’t you gotten a period?”

“I’m positive I’m not pregnant. I would tell you if I was,” I promise him.

His posture relaxes, but only a fraction.

“Then why are you talking about babysitters and threesomes?”

“I just don’t know how our unconventional relationship would be appropriate for the future.”

“We make the rules, Quinn—that’s what I’ve said all along. I’d never put sex before our family. I’m sure things would change as our relationship evolves.”

“You’re missing the point, Charlie.”

“Well then tell me what the point is!” His voice is full of frustration.

“I don’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore!” I shout.

He flinches as if I’ve slapped him. “Why?”

“Things are getting too serious. You knew I didn’t want a relationship from the start.”

“I didn’t want one either, but things changed. I’m in love with you, Quinn.” He clenches his jaw.

“Well, I’m changing them again.”

“I don’t understand. We’ve been inseparable for the last two months. Have I been making it all up in my head? Look at me and tell me you don’t have feelings for me.”

His eyes are so beautiful, despite being full of pain and confusion. It would be too easy to tell him the truth, but then what? How can we have a happily ever after when his includes a family and my body can’t produce one?

It’s better this way. He deserves to be happy. He’ll find someone else, someone not broken like me. He’s young and wonderful. He’ll move on.

I meet his gaze and force the words out. “I don’t love you, Charlie. I don’t want to see you anymore.”

His face crumbles, pain etched in his expression. I keep my eyes open, not allowing myself to be a coward. I need to see the pain I’m causing him.

“I don’t believe you,” he whispers.

I shrug, pretending to be indifferent. “It doesn’t matter what you believe.”

“Kiss me.”

I splutter. No, I can’t kiss him. I can’t touch him or I’ll take everything back and beg him for forgiveness.

“No.”

“Just one last kiss and I’ll be out of your hair.” He walks closer, invading my space.

“No.” I back up, keeping distance between us.

“Please, can you give me a kiss goodbye?”

I hit the wall, unable to back up any farther, and he steps closer. My pulse hammers in my throat at his proximity. “Why?”

“Let’s call it closure.” He leans down, his gorgeous face just inches from mine. My chest rises and falls and I put my hands on his chest to stop him from coming any closer.

It’s a mistake, because I feel his heart thudding against his chest. I feel his warmth, his strength, and I long to feel his arms wrap around me.

“Just one kiss and you’ll go?” I waiver.

“If you still want me to go, I’ll go.” Those cobalt orbs beg me.

I nod, wanting to feel his lips one last time.

He kisses me, and it’s desperate. His arms wrap around me and pull me into him. My arms snake around his neck and I bury my fingers in his hair. I pour all of my feelings into this kiss. With my body, I tell him I love him, how sorry I am, how much I’ll miss him.

I miss him already and he’s still here.

His tongue tangles with mine and he lifts me up, bracing my shoulders against the wall. The kiss spirals out of control as my legs wrap around his waist and his pelvis grinds into me.

We can’t have sex. I’ll never be able to convince him to leave if I feel him inside me again.

It takes monumental effort to tear my lips from his, but I do. “Stop,” I whisper.

He smiles down at me, as if he proved his point. “You still want me.”

“That’s just chemistry.”

“You’re lying to me.”

“You said you’d leave after one kiss. I want you to go.”

The light drains out of his eyes and his expression turns blank. He sets me back on my feet and takes a step back, putting distance between us.

“Okay, I’ll go. Goodbye Quinn.”

Tears threaten to fall. Don’t cry. You can cry when he’s gone.

“Goodbye Charlie.”

He stares at me, cataloging my features as if he wants to burn this moment into his memory.

Then he turns around and walks out of my house.

I slide down the wall, hug my knees, and sob.