Page 113 of Jilted

Eventually, it was Andrew who spoke. “What did you say when she told you?”

“Nothing. I took off like a fucking coward. Last night was another wedding. I left her standing on the damn dance floor. Didn’t even say goodbye to the bride or groom.”

“Dick move, but okay. You’ll apologize. Grovel. Do you think she loves you back?”

“She said she did.”

“Then she’ll forgive you. Look at me—I did something much worse to Camille, and she’s giving me another chance. You acted like an idiot. Sloane will get over it.” He smirked. “She should probably get used to it if she’s going to be around a while.”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure I can do it.”

“You gotta trust someone again sometime, Wilder.”

I sucked back my drink. It burned going down. I’d never liked liquor much. “Who says?”

“Well, I suppose you don’t. But then you stand to lose the woman you love and your child. I guess you have to make a decision. What’s scarier—the thought of taking a chance and maybe being let down again, or the thought of losing Sloane and the baby?”

32SLOANE

I couldn’t believe two weeks had gone by. I still hadn’t told anyone I was pregnant, except for Wilder. His reaction had devastated me, made me recoil and turn inward. But I needed to talk to someone. I could have gone to Elijah. He would’ve been supportive, but instead, I’d decided to go to my brother Will.

It was early Saturday afternoon, and I knew the bar would be empty. So I picked up a pie from our favorite pizza place and went to pay him a visit.

Will was wiping down the counters, but he stopped when I walked in. “Uh-oh. When do you need off?”

I smiled. “I don’t need off.”

He squinted. “Does the pie have pepper and onions?”

“It does.”

He resumed wiping the counter. “Then you want something.”

I laughed. “Can’t I just want to spend time with my big brother?”

He took out his wallet. “How much do you need?”

I swiped the rag he was using from his hands and threw it at him. “Jerk.”

He smiled. “What’s going on, Peaty?”

I climbed up on a stool and flipped open the pizza box, grabbing a slice. A few droplets of grease dripped on the bar as I brought the tip up for a bite. “Sorry.”

Will shook his head and reached under the bar for a roll of paper towels. “Some shit never changes.” He positioned the top of the open box under where I was eating. “Here. Use this.”

There wasn’t an easy way to start this conversation, so I decided to just come out with it. “So… I’m pregnant.”

Unfortunately, Will had just bitten into his slice, and he startedto choke,reallychoke. I stood on my seat and climbed over the bar, ready to do the Heimlich maneuver. But he held his hand out, stopping me. His face was red and his voice hoarse, but at least he was able to chirp out words. “No.” He coughed. “I’m good.”

I grabbed a glass and poured seltzer from the tap. Will chugged half of it down, then bent with hands on his knees and took a few deep breaths.

“Are you okay?”

“No. You just fucking told me you’re pregnant. Of course I’m not okay. You’re my little sister.”

“I’m twenty-six, not twelve.”

“You’re not married.”

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