Page 37 of Enamored
“Looks like it’s just you and me, kid,” I say. My phone rings, and I don’t have to look at it to know it’s Tristan. I answer. “Call me again, and I’ll put a restraining order against you.”
“You can’t keep my kid away from me.” He seems to have sobered up real fast.
“It’s a good thing you live so far away. Lose my number, asshole.”
I toss the nearly empty container of ice cream in the trash and clean up the mess on my carpet before I take a shower and climb into bed. I leave my phone in the living room. I’m afraid if I take it to the bedroom with me, I’ll answer his calls. I know Tristan enough to know he won’t stop, especially now the cat is out of the bag.
We’ve had enough conversations, so I know he wants kids and a family. He wants the whole package, but he hasn’t learned to pull his head out of his ass. I can’t believe he is pulling this shit on me. Didn’t he learn from his past mistakes to trust me? Why is it that I’m the one he always doubts?
Tristan tries to get a hold of me at the office no less than three times. I make Hannah send him to my voicemail each time. I’ll call him back when I’ve had time to cool my head. I made sure his call wasn’t urgent by contacting Steve and talking with him for a few minutes. Eloise seems to be butting her head into this project more than usual, and it’s really starting to irritate me.
Of course, that could also be the raging amount of hormones coursing through my body. My boobs hurt, my back hurts, and I just want to sleep. This baby is sucking everything out of me. And the worst part is my parents haven’t seen me in a while, so I agreed to show up for dinner this weekend. I need someone else in my court, and I know my parents will support me through anything.
I walk through their front door and call out a greeting. Mom shouts back that she’s in the kitchen. I climb the stairs to my old bedroom and drop my overnight bag off. It takes me a few hours to get to my childhood home from Boston, and it’s easier to stay the night when I come.
I walk into the kitchen and see Mom cooking up a storm. We give each other a hug, and she kisses my cheek, instantly making me feel better.
“What’s wrong, pumpkin? You seem stressed.”
Yeah, you could say that.“Where’s Dad? I have something I want to tell both of you.”
She puts the spatula down and slowly turns to me. “Is this good news or bad news?”
I shrug. “I guess that depends on who you are.”
Dad’s ears must have been ringing because he walks into the room a minute later. Although, he always has had pretty perfect timing. They sit at the table with me, and I tell them my story from the beginning. And when I say beginning, I mean, I go way back. I tell them about our vacation, and how I fell in love with Tristan—even back then. I skirt over the part about him taking my virginity because that’s not something they need to know.
So, when I bring up what’s been going on recently, and how I got hired for the remodel, there’s no shock when I explain how we have been trying to make things work again. The shock comes when I tell them I’m almost two months pregnant with his child.
“Does he know?” Mom asks.
I nod. “Yeah, he knows,” I answer solemnly. I push a disbelieving snort through my nose. “He actually asked me whose it is because I didn’t tell him. I hid the test. I was going to tell him once I confirmed everything with the doctor. I wanted to really be sure before I turned his life upside down, too.”
They ask me a few more questions, and we talk a little longer. I feel better, and even feel a little bad for blowing up at Tristan like I did. I can only imagine what he felt like when he saw the test with no explanation.But he also asked if it was someone else’s like I’ve been sleeping around.He knows me better than that—or I thought he did.
I haven’t heard from him since the blowout, and it’s not like his number is blocked. He just hasn’t reached out. Although, to be fair, I told him if he did, I’d put a restraining order against him, and I also told him to lose my number. I bite the bullet and open a text to him. I’m not ready to hear his husky voice, but I do need to talk to him.
Me:Hey.
Tristan:Hey. I’m glad you’re contacting me. Can we talk?
I type a response, then delete it and try again. When the words don’t come out the way I expect them to, I give up and put my phone down for the night without responding to him.
Chapter 20
Tristan
I’m going out of my mind. She messaged, and when I asked to talk, she didn’t respond. We need to figure stuff out. Are we going to have joint custody? Will she move out here? I refuse to not be part of my son or daughter’s life. Family is way too important to me to not have this—even if she doesn’t want me. She has a part of me growing inside her, though, and there’s nothing that will ever change that bond we share.
I look at the clock. It’s past midnight there, and she’s probably sleeping by now. I resign myself to having to wait until the next morning to call her. I lie in bed and can’t get her out of my damn mind. Has she gone to any doctor’s appointments? I always pictured myself going to the ultrasounds, holding my wife’s hand, and letting this be something we experience together.
I would never have thought it would be Lana.How fucked up is fate? It pushes us back together after all these years, just to pull us apart again. I’ve already made the grand gesture once and went to see her to amend things. I don’t want to be flying out to Boston every time I fuck up to fix things.
Knowing myself, I might as well live out there. I’m always putting my foot in my mouth. Point in case. If I wasn’t drunk and hurt, I never would have asked her if the kid was mine. I knew from the moment I saw that test that no one else had touched her. I know she wouldn’t do that to me, especially when I know her views on relationships and cheating.
If she won’t come to me, I’m going to have to go to her. I might as well get an airline credit card. I’m going to be a part of this baby’s life, even if I have to fly out every weekend to do it.
My phone rings early the next morning, and I groan as I reach for it. Lana’s name flashes on the screen, and I sit straight up, sleep now forgotten.
