Page 18 of Falling for Grace

I’m pregnant.

My phone chirps and Danny’s face pops up onto the screen. It’s as though he can hear my freak out from across the road. I decline the call.

I cannot put him in that position.

For the first time in 15 years, Danny will not be my confidant.

He can’t be—he’s the uncle, for sod's sake. And I can’t keep it.

Can I?

I can’t keep this baby.

Can I?

The walls of the room start to constrict, and I feel a tightness in my chest that has replaced the hole that had been left by finally saying goodbye to Brandon and our yearly cycle of orgasms.

It’s too small, too tight.

I need space.

I need air.

I grab the stick, chucking it clumsily into the bin. Maybe if I can’t see it, it won’t be real. I grab my handbag, throwing it over my shoulder and take the stairs two at a time. When I freak out, I run—like, literally run. But I’m not dressed for it, and I need to run now, so I’m throwing open the front door as I press the key fob on my mini key ring.

“Gracie.”

I hear his voice, but he’s a blur on my front step, and I don’t stop, I dart past him as tears start to fill my eyes and a huge frog takes up residence at the back of my throat.

“Jesus Christ, Grace, what’s happened?”

Danny grabs at me but misses, causing my bag to fall to the floor.

“I can’t,” I sob, the words falling out my mouth. I watch helplessly as the belongings of my bag drop out, but I don’t stop to pick them up.

He’s following me, I can hear the crunch of his footsteps on the gravel, but it just makes me move quicker.

“Baby girl, you’re scaring me. Talk to me.”

I open the car door, but he grabs it.

I can’t tell him this.

His piercing eyes are looking at me and I can see his distress. “Can you please let go of the door? Please?”

He’s assessing me. He does this. It’s like he has a bloody Grace crystal ball.

“You’re okay to drive?”

Questionable, but I’m not going to tell him that. I can just get to the end of the road then pull in and have my moment. Note how he doesn’t ask if I’m okay. He knows I’m not.

“Yes.” I put as much confidence behind the word as possible. “Please, Danny, I’ll call you later and tell you everything.” Which means,I’ll call you later once I come up with a plausible story for what caused me to get into this state.

“Okay.” He’s hesitant, he doesn’t want me to go. “Call me, baby girl. I mean it.” His stern expression tells me he’s not pissing around, so I nod and he hands me my wallet that he must have picked out of the handbag spill and releases the door, allowing me to get into the car and close the door behind me.

I immediately put the key fob in the ignition, slam my foot on the clutch, shifting to first and screech away. I look in the rearview mirror and can see him standing in the road watching the back of my mini as I escape from Cramwell Drive.

The river runs in-front of me. I can’t hear it, but the current is fast today. I’m sitting in the silence of my bubble in the safety of my car.

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