Page 137 of Chicago Sin
My head snaps up, stomach tightening into a cruel knot. “Do you think it was the right decision?”
“I didn’t say that,” she cautions. “I don’t know what the right answer is. But I do know one thing. You’re smart and strong. And you have a huge heart. And I know you’re going to be able to figure this out successfully.”
I stare at her in despair. I want to believe her, but success feels completely impossible right now. I would settle for being able to turn off the water works for five minutes.
“What do I do about Armando?” I whisper, even though I know my mom, and she’s not going to give me the answer.
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing. If you keep this baby, there'll be no getting rid of him. When you have a baby with a man, he’s in your life for the rest of your days whether the two of you are together or apart. Unless he chooses to walk away from his responsibility.”
“What if he never finds out?” I croak, knowing how wrong it is but still clinging to the idea.
“What?”
“I wasn’t going to tell him about the baby,” I admit in a whisper.
“Why not?” My mom’s voice sharpens.
I suck in a terraced breath. “Well, when he saw the test box, he freaked out. So I know he really doesn’t want it. That’s when I told him to leave. And I just lied and said the test came out negative.”
I sense the censure from my mom as she draws in a slow breath. “So let me get this straight. You broke up with him because he didn’t react the way you wanted him to when he was surprised by the idea of a pregnancy?”
I pull my lower lip into my mouth and suck on it. It sounds a little extreme when she puts it that way. “He’s emotionally unavailable,” I assert.
My mom nods slowly. “That may very well be, but it sounds to me like he was experiencing some emotion. Stress, maybe? Which is healthy. Because having a pregnancy you didn’t expect is a big deal.”
Well, yeah.
I wipe some more tears. “What should I do?”
“Well, the better question is what do you think you should do?”
I freaking hate when she says things like that. I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
My mom nods. “I think you probably do.”
My chest aches as I realize my mom calls bullshit on my I don’t knows, same as Armando, only nicer.
All the ways he paid attention to me flood my mind. He may have claimed he had nothing to offer, but it wasn’t true. He took care of me. He noticed when I was off or mad and didn’t let it slide. He tried to fix things when they were broken.
And what had I done?
Run away from my problems, same as ever. Opted to not deal with them.
I bailed. On him. On us.
Maybe if I’d given him a chance, he would’ve risen to the occasion of being a dad. It’s hard to imagine he would stop taking care of me.
And then I’m suddenly bone tired.
I scrub my hands over my cheeks and stand. “I don’t think I can stay for dinner, Mom,” I say. “Please don’t tell Dad about what’s going on with me yet. I need to figure stuff out.”
My mom glances toward the living room and gives me a noncommittal shrug. “He may have already heard enough, but I’ll leave it for you to share.” She wraps me in another hug. “I love you, baby girl. Nothing’s insurmountable. Remember that.”
I nod. “Love you, Mom.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Armando
