Page 36 of Seven of Hearts

Iwas going to throw up. Unfortunately, the nausea wasn’t caused by morning sickness. That had eased once I made it to the second trimester. No, the impending vomit was due to the fact that I was sitting outside my parents’ house, like a death row inmate awaiting execution.

I had worked through every scenario in my mind, and none of them ended with a“congratulations”or tears of joy.

My phone buzzed in the cup holder. I grabbed it to see who had texted me, hoping for an emergency so I could leave.

Logan:You don’t have to do this alone. Say the word and I’ll be there.

Warmth bubbled inside me.I knew he was talking about dinner with my parents and telling them about the baby, but I couldn’t help but wish he meant it in a grander sense. In a ‘mom and dad sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g’ sort of way.

Logan and I had sort of skipped right to the baby carriage part of the rhyme.

The back of my head lay against the headrest and I let out a sharp breath.

Mom and Dad.

It was the first time those two words had really crossed my mind.

Regardless of whether we were together or even in the same state, Logan and I were going to be parents. We would forever be tethered by one moment that changed everything.

I just hoped that it would change everything for the better.

Leah:I can handle it. Thanks, though. I’m going in.

Truth be told,I wanted him to hold my hand as I made my way up the white pebbled walkway that led to the front door. I wanted him to lace our fingers together and give my palm a squeeze with the reassurance that it would be okay. That I could lean on him.

He was being sweet, but I couldn’t take advantage of it. I’d had a moment of weakness when he showed up at my door because I was tired, but I couldn’t repeat that. I couldn’t let myself rely on him, no matter how much I wanted to. Logan wasn’t staying.

Unfortunately, Laura Holloway was my problem.

I fisted my car keys, letting the jagged edge bite into my palm to keep me grounded as I rang the doorbell.

My parents weren’t the “let yourself in and raid the fridge” type. Not even close.

Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. Nice to see you. Dinner looks great. By the way, I’m having a baby.

Oh no. What if they had made sushi for dinner and I couldn’t eat it? Dropping the pregnancy bomb definitely seemed like a topic for after the meal, that way I could leave.

I couldn’t even fathom what would happen if I told my mother I was pregnantandrefused to eat the food she had prepared.

With my heart in my throat, I pushed the doorbell and waited.

Exactly six seconds later, the appropriate time to leave a guest waiting on the stoop according to my mother, the door opened.

“Leah, are you ill?” she asked as soon as she opened the heavy wooden door. “You look absolutely dreadful.”

And this was why I never came over, even though my parents only lived ten minutes away.

Dr. Laura Holloway was an exacting woman who didn’t believe in softening the truth.

I tucked my hair behind my ears, a nervous habit I was certain she’d call out the moment I did it.

Her lips pursed as she clucked under her breath. “Self-soothing with grooming does not make the question disappear. It’s better to answer than to delay the inevitable.”

I actually would have preferred to be strapped to a polygraph machine and asked embarrassing questions about my teenage years rather than look my mom in the eye.

“I’ve been a little under the weather,” I admitted. It was easier than denying it.

She lifted an eyebrow but said nothing as she stepped aside to let me in. She was like a bridge troll who made you answer a riddle before you could pass.

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