Page 78 of Implode

It feels so good to be this close to her after an entire day of not knowing where we stand. I breathe in the vanilla scent of her hair and relish this moment before the inevitable storm rolls in.

I move us over to cuddle in her bed, which barely has room for the two of us. My hands alternate between rubbing her back and soothingly playing with her silky hair. We lie in silence and just enjoy the simple touching that I have missed most of the day.

“Whatever it is, Claire, it’ll be alright.”

“No!” she shouts, detaching herself from me. She scoots off my legs and bends hers along the end of the bed. “Everyone keeps telling me that, but it is not a guarantee. You don’t know that it is going to be okay. I feel like the walls are closing in on me, and I am tired of keeping this secret. I’m going to go insane if I wait any longer.”

I swallow hard and brace myself for whatever she is about to drop on me. “What is it?” I demand, my voice gruff.

Flinging herself off the bed, she stomps to her little kitchen, yanks open a drawer, and whips out what appears to be some plastic sticks. Spinning around, she waves them at me as if they are on fire, as tears cascade in angry rivers down her cheeks. “I am pregnant,” she wails.

I flinch at Claire’s declaration and allow the realization to soak into my brain. How can it be that three little words can cause my life to implode in the short length of time it takes to breathe them into existence?

I couldn’t have heard her correctly. There is no way. I obviously got this all wrong.

My eyes alternate between every affirmative test and Claire, silently hoping this is all some colossal prank. But when the only thing reflected back to me is fear, I know I’m living out the one scenario I just didn’t see coming.

“I’m pregnant, Nic,” she repeats, probably alarmed over my utter silence.

“Isn’t that theoretically impossible?” I challenge, watching her toss the test sticks onto the counter. “You’re on the pill. You’ve been taking it, right? All this time I’ve been trusting you to take it, Claire.”

“It’s not one hundred percent effective.”

Dammit, I know this. I’m not an idiot, yet right now I feel so stupid for allowing this to happen. I take a deep breath and put my head into my hands as I come to terms with her declaration. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I was not expecting this.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” she weeps. “I’m sure. And it gets worse.”

Oh, hell no. “Well, quit delaying,” I snap.

“I don’t know who the father is…”

KNOCK.

KNOCK.

“Let me in, Claire!” a voice bellows from the other side of the door.

21

CLAIRE

“Go away, Ethan!” I yell back, only making him pound harder. He’s going to break my door, or Nic is going to break him.

“What does he want?” Nic asks, staring at me over this turn of events. “And how does he know you live here?”

“I don’t know.” My voice quivers. “I’m sure it’s not hard to figure out.”

“Open this door or I’ll show the police every second of video footage of you entering my property and assaulting me! And I will, dammit. I’m also done with you stalking Deena. She told me all about it!”

Nic’s imploring eyes lock in on mine. “You hit him?”

“He has been harassing me for weeks,” I say quickly in defense—mainly to myself but also to Nic. “And I never stalked Deena. She was at The Shack, but I didn’t know she was going to be there.” My voice is frantic.

I never considered Ethan had any proof of me at his property. I’m so stupid; of course he would record it. Anyone as financially loaded as he seems would savor that level of protection for his assets. In fact, he basically encouraged me to come after him. He wanted concrete blackmail material—that asshole! I think back to when we ran into each other at the hair salon. Deena mentioned a lawyer. Was this their ultimate plan for revenge?

“You should have fucking told me he was harassing you.”

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