Page 145 of Forbidden Lyrics

“Madelyn wants to wait until after the baby’s born,” I answer for her. “That shouldn’t be for another two months or so, but Walker women are known for having their babies super early, so we’re taking it a day at a time.”

He nods. “Okay. And what about the third guy? Does he know?”

“There wasn’t a third guy,” I lie. “She didn’t know how to tell any of us the truth.”

His eyes widen in surprise as he turns to Maddie. “So, you weren’t sleeping with Marty?”

“W-what?” The mere mention of him shakes her out of the numb blanket she usually wraps around herself before she demands, “Why would you think I was sleeping with Marty?”

“He said––”

“He’s a liar, Gibson,” she spits, her surprise morphing into full-blown anger. “He was only trying to get under your skin. Do you honestly believe a single word that comes out of his lying mouth?”

My chest tightens as the lie slips past her lips. But I get why she’s saying it. Why she’s keeping the truth from everyone. She’s protecting her baby. And if I were in her shoes, I’m afraid that I’d do the same thing.

Marty’s bad news. The further he stays away from my sister and her unborn child, the better.

“Okay,” Gibson concedes, sensing Maddie’s revulsion. “So, it’s Milo or me. We can wait––”

“You can’t tell Milo,” Maddie interrupts. Then she bends forward and cradles her stomach, letting out a slow breath, distracted by another Braxton Hicks.

“We’ve already talked about this,” Gibson reminds her. “He has a right to know.”

“Only if your paternity test is negative,” she counters.

“I’ve lied long enough, Em.”

“Just a little bit longer,” she begs, her breathing ragged. “Please. And you’re not lying or keeping anything from him if the baby’s yours.”

“Yes, I am,” Gibson pushes. “He’s one of my best friends, Em. Whether or not I’m the father, I’m keeping something from him. Something big.”

With another shaky breath, she looks up at him and unfolds from her crouched position, the contraction passing. “But you know how much he doesn’t want to be a dad. You know how much he hates me. You know that this news will gut him––”

“It’ll gut him whether or not he’s the father,” Gibbs argues. “He has the right to deal with it before the baby’s born. To accept his potential future.”

“And how do you think he’s gonna deal with it, Gibbs? Huh? He’ll lose his mind––”

“He’ll step up, Em. He’s a good guy.”

Holding back tears, she chokes out, “He hates me––”

“He’ll suck it up for the kid.”

“I don’t want to be a charity case.”

“You don’t have a choice. This is life. This is what a consequence looks like.” His voice softens. “But you’re gonna be a good mom, Em. No matter who the father is, the baby’s gonna be loved. He or she is gonna be looked after. And probably spoiled rotten,” he adds, his mouth tilting up in a ghost of a smile. One that makes my insides tighten with jealousy. And maybe a little hope too. I want my niece or nephew to be spoiled. And loved. And to have a good father, no matter how much it hurts me.

Gibson will be a good father.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he assures her. “I promise.” His gaze shifts to mine. “I promise,” he repeats before looking back at my sister. His ex. “Em, can I have some privacy with Dove?”

“Sure.” She pushes herself up from the rocking chair. “Can I ask you something first?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t ever love me, right?”

He frowns. “I’m sorry, Em––”

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