Page 92 of Before I Loved You

“So soon, I’m telling your daddy everything. He thinks we’re going on a normal date tomorrow night, but that’s when I plan on telling him all about you right after Glen deletes the video. And everything will be okay. I promise.”

Although, I am fully prepared to give Paul an out.

I’ll understand if he wants nothing to do with me or the baby. I’ll have to.

But I’m not going to lie and say it doesn’t hurt to think he might choose to leave…like everyone else in my life has done.

I shake my head, not wanting to go down that road tonight.

There’s no use worrying over something that hasn’t even happened yet.

After eating every last drop of the macaroni and cheese, I get down to business by opening all the cardboard boxes and removing each piece and tool. Seeing everything laid out leaves me feeling utterly overwhelmed as I still try to convince myself this will be a piece of cake.

I can do this!

But as one hour turns into two and then three, I realize I can’t, in fact, do this myself.

Frustrated tears cascade down my cheeks as I throw the mini wrench on the floor. My fists clench by my side as I look around at the disaster site that has taken over my living room. A crib with no side rails stands tilted on one side of the room, a rocking chair that doesn’t rock sits in the corner, a baby changing table is in pieces across the floor, and a car seat that I already know I won’t understand how to put in my car sits in its box, taunting me.

I failed.

I can’t do this.

How will I be a good mom when I can’t even read simple directions?

I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming. What am I supposed to—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My eyes bounce to the closed door. Who the hell could that be?

I grab my phone from my pocket and see it’s just after ten p.m.

Tiptoeing to the door, I’m just about to look through the peephole when the deep timbre of his voice stops me in my tracks.

“Hey, Sarah, it’s Paul. We need to talk.”

I frantically wipe at my tears and push back loose strands of hair that escaped my ponytail. After spending the night trying to assemble a nursery, I look like a hot mess with sweat running down my temple and over my back. Not to mention, my cheeks are probably crimson from heat exhaustion. And as if on cue, my stomach rumbles, alerting me that my baby and I are hungry…again!

The nutrition label on the box of macaroni and cheese was a lie. It wasn’t three servings. It was barely even one.

Knock. Knock. “Sarah?”

This can’t be happening.

Left with no other option, I walk over to the door. Taking a deep breath, I open the door just a few inches, intending to hide the catastrophe behind me.

“Hey, Paul. What are you doing here?” I forge a smile, hoping he won’t see through it.

His eyes examine me, concern etched all over his facial features. “You want to tell me what this is.” He holds up Greyson’s phone while his eyes look me up and down, observing my appearance. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I…umm.” Of course, fucking Glen told him. I was stupid for thinking he wouldn’t. “Actually, no. I’m not feeling that great. You should probably go so you don’t catch whatever I have.”

He watches me silently until he finally says, “What’s going on?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. Like I said, I’m just not feeling well.”

He lightly pushes on the door, but I keep my foot behind it, not letting it budge while gripping my hands on the edge for backup.

---