Page 63 of Embracing Trust

I rub the back of my neck. “There was this girl in North Carolina—the one I dated when I came back from Afghanistan.”

“The one you met at Topsail?”

“Yeah.” I cross my ankle over my knee.

Patrick waits for me to continue.

“She showed up at Mom and Dad’s today.”

Patrick raises his eyebrows. “What?” He scoots back in his chair, grabs his bottle, and takes a drink.

“That’s why Mom invited me to dinner…to see my surprise guest.” I take a drink from my beer bottle. “Aubree spent some time visiting with Mom but ended up not staying for dinner.” I take another drink. “She’s pregnant.”

Patrick covers his mouth with his hand and swallows hard. “What? Do Mom and Dad know?”

“Thankfully not.”

Patrick’s eyebrows draw together. “And it’s yours?”

“She says.”

“Fuck.” Patrick looks around and lowers his voice. “How many times have we talked about wrapping it up?”

The beer and mashed potatoes churn in my stomach.

I grit my teeth. “I did.”

“Use a condom? What happened?”

“She said it’s not totally effective.”

Patrick shakes his head. “Are you sure it’s yours?”

I shrug. “I assume so. I’m not some sort of gestational expert here, you know.”

Patrick stands up and paces. “Listen, you can’t take her word, and just because you think the timeline matches, you’ve got to have more proof than that.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I take another drink from the bottle.

Patrick scratches his head as he paces. “You wanna be with her?”

“No,” I admit. “Things are finally starting to work out with Julia.”

“You’re gonna have to—”

Lydia returns to the living room. She looks between us. “Sorry, I can see I’m interrupting.”

“No, you’re fine,” I say. “I may as well tell you. You’ll find out soon enough anyway.”

“What’s going on?” she asks as she takes her spot on the couch.

“A girl I was seeing in North Carolina right before I came back is in town. She claims she’s pregnant with my kid.”

“Oh, Ryan.” Lydia’s hands cover her mouth. “What are you going to do?”

Patrick interjects. “I’m telling him he needs to get an attorney or something. He’s not even sure it’s his. I’m telling him, you can’t just go by some timeline. You need proof.”

“Can’t an attorney order a DNA test or something?” Lydia asks with raised eyebrows.

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