Page 27 of Won’t Let You Get Away

My heart sinks even further as I watch her go, unsure of how to make things right again.

SABRINA

“What the actual fuck is wrong with me?” I ask.

“Sabrina, nothing is?—”

I glare at him. “I swear on all that is holy, if you finish that sentence, I will hit you.”

Tucker rolls his eyes, lifting his hands in mock surrender as he flops onto my couch beside me.

After basically fleeing from Noah’s truck, I didn’t even go back inside. I hightailed it to the car and shot Tucker a text asking him to bring Addison home for me.

Which, of course, had my phone blowing up with angry messages from my sister about bailing on her and being a party pooper. The only way to get her off my back was to tell her that my stomach was upset. She assumed it was because of the baby and I didn’t correct her.

The last text I got from her was that she was spending the night at Hannah’s apartment in town and would be by Ma’s for breakfast before her flight back to the city.

Then Tucker showed up an hour later to check on me. I had already been crying, but the moment he saw my face and asked what happened, I completely lost it.

“I have cried more in the past three months than I have over the past thirty years.” I groan and readjust the warm, damp washcloth on my forehead. “And now I have another headache from these damn tears.”

“I’m assuming you’re just saying all this just to bitch and aren’t actually looking for logic right now,” Tucker teases lightly.

“You would be correct.”

Tonight’s events replay in my head and a hysterical laugh escapes.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” I ask out loud again. “I only followed after him to ask if we could talk in the next day or two and the next minute I’m begging him to fu?—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Tucker cuts me off. “I’m here to listen and support, but you’re basically a sister to me. I don’t need to hear about you doingthatwith anyone.”

I peek at him over the corner of the washcloth.

“You do know I’m pregnant, right? Do I have to explain how babies are made?”

Tucker gives me a stern look.

“Please, no.” He raises his eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Unless you want details on my preferences?—”

“Nope, that’s okay.” I hold up my hand. “Point taken. No specifics.”

“That’s all I ask.” He nods, setting a glass of water in front of me. I toss the cloth onto the coffee table beside it.

“I ran, Tuck. I told him that shouldn’t have happened and then I tucked tail and ran like some coward.” Tears build up again as I stare blankly across the room. “I was supposed to talk, to be an adult and have a conversation without crying or being emotional. Instead, I was a shitty person.”

“You’re not-”

“I just had sex with the father of my child, who doesn’t even know he’s the father, then I ran away. I feel like a terrible person.”

I stand and begin pacing around the room. “Everything was so simple when we were on vacation. I could say or do anything without worrying about it. I was confident, freely expressing my thoughts and needs. Now, I can’t even think straight! How am I supposed to tell him about the baby when every time I see him, my hormones go wild?”

My chest tightens and I struggle to breathe.

Suddenly, Tucker is in front of me, holding both shoulders tightly.

“Breathe,” he says, taking a slow deep breath that I copy. “Good, now exhale.”

He continues guiding me through breathing steadily until my heart rate slows down. He leads me back to the couch and holds me close when we sit down.

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