Page 20 of Sweet Escape
I exhale a ragged breath when I step out of the doctor’s office with an eight-week ultrasound in hand. I wasn’t prepared for the profound loneliness I’d feel going to my first appointment on my own, staring at the tiny, formless being on the screen without any support. I wanted to reach for someone, anyone, to hold my hand and tell me it would be alright.
This is something I should’ve been doing with a partner. I wonder if Wilder would've wanted to be there if he’d known. Guilt claws at my chest. I robbed him of that opportunity—I can’t keep this secret any longer. I have to tell him.
But how?
I don’t have his number, and it’s not like I can show up at the ranch and demand to see him. What would I say?
“Hi, Mr. Hayes. I fucked your son about six weeks ago… or he fucked me… we fucked each other? Anyway, now I’m pregnant. Can you point me to where I might find him? No, not that one. Not that one either. The big, broody one.”
Ok, so maybe that’s a teensy bit of an exaggeration. I’d at least use his name.
Would he even believe it’s his? I know we didn’t use a condom, and I hadn’t been intimate with Jake in months, but Wilder can’t know that for sure. I don’t have any way to prove it.
Lost in my downright unhinged musings, I nearly walk straight into someone on the sidewalk. I slide the slip of paper into the back pocket of my jeans, hiding the evidence of my impending motherhood.
Impending motherhood,like it’s some kind of life sentence. I snort internally—I guess it is.
“Olivia? Holy shit, it is you!” She pulls me in for a crushing hug, her familiar lavender scent wrapping around me, bringing me back to our childhood running around the farm.
“Sarah! Where the hell have you been? You haven’t been to any of the family dinners since I got back.”
My cousin is only a few months older than me, and we were thick as thieves growing up: swapping clothes, crushing on the same boys, and holding each other's hair back at parties we had no business attending.
She crosses her arms over her ample chest, quirking a well-manicured brow, partially obscured by her pastel pink curtain bangs. “You’re one to talk! No calls, no texts. Not even a single carrier pigeon.”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny. You know I hate talking on the phone, and birds are terrifying.” I lean in to whisper conspiratorially. “I heard they’re not even real.”
She giggles. “And the text messages?”
“I’ve just had a lot going on.” Her expression changes to something questioning, but I don’t elaborate, and Sarah knows better than to pry. It’s a surefire way to get me to shut down. “Where are you off to in a hurry?”
“I’m on my lunch break. Headed back to the salon now. You should stop by soon. I’ll give you the friends and family discount, and we can catch up. You can finally spill the beans about Jake.”
Ever the voice of reason, Sarah tried to stop me from moving to Colorado after a catfishing incident left memortified and more than a little heartbroken. In true Olivia fashion, I fled as fast as my feet could carry me, fueled by my utter humiliation and more than a little recklessness.
I don’t know why I haven’t told her about Jake and Amber; Sarah never liked either of them. I wrongly attributed it to jealousy, and it drove a wedge between us far more than moving to Colorado ever did. I should’ve listened to her.
“I promise I’ll come by as soon as I can. Grammy’s keeping me busy at the diner. Will I see you on Sunday?”
She grimaces. “Probably not. Sundays are my busiest days with the early morning church crowd, and I’m usually exhausted by the end of the day. We’re looking at hiring a few more stylists to lighten my load.”
“Well, you know where to find me. And I promise to start responding to your texts.”If I don’t read them and completely forget about them first.
“I’ll hold you to that. Maybe we can plan a girls’ night out at The Ridge soon.”
I hold back my protest, not wanting to get into why I don’t want to hang out at the local bar completely sober while everyone around me gets shitfaced and makes poor life choices.
Says the girl who let a man she’d known for all of five hours fuck her senseless without protection. Pot meet kettle.
I nod and pull her in for another hug.
“I’m so glad you’re home. We’ve missed you,” she murmurs.
“Missed you, too.”
With a backward wave, she jogs across the street to her turquoise jeep, top down, with a row of rubber ducks in the window.
I didn’t realize just how much I missed home until this moment. Seeing Sarah stirs up so many fond memories, and I don’t know how I stayed away for so long. I guess that doesn'tmatter now. Even if I wanted to leave, I can’t. My family is here. I’m going to need all the support I can get, even if Wilderdoeswant to be a part of this. We may have been intimate more than once, but I don’t know him any more than I know the regulars at the diner. I thought we had a connection, but I could’ve been deluding myself, looking for affection in the first man I set my eyes on. Did I misread the signs?God, I hope not.
