Page 119 of Body Shot

“You do. But you can’t upset her. She’s in rough shape.”

“I won’t.”

“Being a dad is pretty great,” he says quietly. “I’m going to guess that this wasn’t in your five-year plan, but sometimes, the best things in life are the things that aren’t planned.”

I don’t know if that applies in this case, but right now I just need to see her. Make sure she’s okay.

Talk to her.

“I have to go,” I say after a moment.

He digs his keys out of his pocket. “Take the car. It’s all right.”

“Are you sure?” I ask in surprise.

He shrugs. “I figure you’re good for it. And the address is in the GPS.” He tells me the name of the hospital.

“Thank you.” I get to my feet and suddenly can’t get out of here fast enough.

“Room 1104,” he says as the door is closing behind me. “And don’t upset her!”

He doesn’t have to remind me of that because hurting her was never in my plans.

I drive to the hospital on autopilot.

I don’t know what I’m doing and when I get there, I turn the car off but don’t move.

I sit there drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, my thoughts a jumble of confusion. Everything about this sucks.

I’m at a loss because I don’t know what to say.

She’s pregnant—at least, I hope she still is—and didn’t tell me.

This hurts me almost as much as her breaking up with me.

For whatever reason, she didn’t trust me enough to tell me something of such monumental importance.

Somewhere along the way, I failed her.

And even if she really has met someone else, I’m not going to fail her or the child we created together.

But either way, I’m not walking away without telling her how I feel.

That has to come out because it needed to be said a long time ago.

It doesn’t matter that we’ve only been together five minutes in the grand scheme of things. I loved her almost the first moment I saw her, and I don’t give a flying fuck how ridiculous that sounds.

I’ll survive if she doesn’t return my feelings, but I can’t move on without telling her everything that’s in my heart.

We’ll handle co-parenting.

Because there’s no way I’m not going to be in the baby’s life.

I stare up at the heavens and curse a god I don’t pay a lot of attention to. I’m not an atheist, but I’m not religious either. Back when Martika was pregnant, I prayed for the whole situation to go away—and she miscarried.

This is different.

I’d give almost anything for Claudia not to miscarry.

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