Page 117 of Catch You

Her face falls, and I hate it. I hate being on the receiving end of her pity.

“Stop, or I’ll go back to hiding in my room. I need you to be … normal, if that’s at all possible.”

She sticks her tongue out at me. “I need a drink. You want one—fuck.”

“A glass of water would be great, thanks.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers with a wince as she leaves the room.

Lifting my cell from the cushion beside me, I check it for the millionth time, but he hasn’t been in touch. Fuck knows where he’s gone—half his clothes are still upstairs in my room. The only thing that disappeared with him was his shoes.

I want to call again. Send a text, even. But what’s the point? I’m not lowering myself to begging. If he cares about me like he claims to, if he has any interest in this baby, then he’ll come back. It’s whether or not I let him in that he should be worried about.

We spend the night lounging on the couch with pizza and ice cream, and Brooke does her best to try to distract me from my disastrous life. But the ball of dread which seems to have taken up residence in my stomach, and the flowers and cards that cover every surface, are an unwelcome reminder of what I’m dealing with right now.

“Why’s my life so dramatic, B? Why can’t it be more like yours?”

“I wish I had the answer. At some point the tables will turn, I’m sure. You’ll run off into the sunset while I’m left here with some big drama that threatens to drag me under.”

“I wouldn’t leave you—you know that.”

“Maybe not, but you’ll have your baby, and Corey, hopefully. You deserve that sunset.”

I smile at her because while I can’t really argue, there’s no way I’m leaving her. She’s my sister. We might not always live in the same house, but we’ll always be connected.

“We’ll see. Knowing my luck, the bailiffs will turn up telling me something’s gone very wrong, and I’ll go from being a millionaire to poor and a single mom in a matter of minutes.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Nor should getting pregnant the first time I had sex after forever, but it did.”

“You can’t blame anyone but yourself for that one.”

“Fair point. I was drunk and Corey was …”

“Hot?”

“Yeah, that.”

I sigh, wishing that I’d gone about this morning differently.

“Did you at least explain about the money?”

“I did.”

Silence settles around us as we both stare at whatever it is on the TV.

“You should know, that was really fucking hot, listening to you both this morning.”

“Stop talking. Stop it right now.”

“What? I can’t help it. All the moaning, groaning, crying out his name.”

“Jesus. I need to buy you your own house.”

She laughs, reaching for her wine.

“What are you going to do?” She looks down at my belly.

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