Page 115 of Forbidden Hearts
“No. No, I want to limit the number of people I tell until I know what I’m going to do. How I’m going to handle this.”
Lucy gives me a soft smile. “I understand. I’m always here for you, as a friend as well as your doctor. I know this feels insurmountable, but I promise, it’ll work out.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
I leave the office, driving the fifteen minutes to Asher’s house. I don’t know why I came here because I know he’s at Brynn’s. I just couldn’t go to my father’s. He can’t see me this way. My nose is bright red from crying, my makeup is running down my face, and I’m a wreck. I need to be alone.
The house is silent, which I’m grateful for because the noise in my head is so loud. A million things are hitting me all at once. I’m pregnant. With Jonathan’s baby. His wife, who believed it was just that kiss and I’d initiated it, is going to be devastated, but the joke’s on me.
My hand moves to my belly, heart so heavy it could sink through the floor.
I grab my phone out of my purse and see there are two missed calls. One from Emmeline, and one from Asher.
Then I look at the texts.
Asher
Where are you?
Please come tonight, sweetheart, I want to see you.
I shake my head, knowing I can’t face him. Not now. Not until I am prepared to lose him completely.
I’m not feeling well. I’m going to lie down. Have fun.
Asher
Are you okay?
I’m fine, I’ll probably stop by later.
Lie. I am going to cry myself to sleep after I make this phone call. I pull up Jonathan’s number, knowing that, no matter what, I have to get this part over with. I could keep it from him, but that’s not who I am. I would never want someone to do that to me, therefore, I’ll tell him. Ultimately, it’s my decision what I do, but he has a right to know and at least give me his thoughts.
He is probably still on campus, so hopefully this goes well.
The phone rings three times, and then his deep voice is in my ear. “Phoebe?”
“Hi, Jonathan.”
“Phoebe, God, I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. I’m miserable—”
“I only called to let you know that I’m pregnant.” I blurt the words out, not wanting to hear his stream of bullshit.
He’s silent.
“Hello?” I say after almost a full minute.
“You’re pregnant?”
“Yes.”
He clears his throat. “Wow, that’s terrible. I’m sorry to hear that.”
My eyes blink as the seconds tick by. He’s sorry? That is how he reacts to this? I literally need at least ten seconds to force the next words out of my mouth. “You’re sorry to hear that?”
“I know you weren’t very careful when we were together. It’s a shame you’re in this situation. Who else have you been with, any chance it’s not mine?”
I rear back because, as far as he knows, I am alone. “I’m eleven weeks pregnant. You are the father.”
