Page 123 of The Surrender
“I can’t,” I admit, stepping farther away.
“Me either.” Abbie looks at Charley, who visibly takes a breath and some bravery before walking determinedly to the island and swiping it up. My heart thuds relentlessly. She turns it over. I hold my breath, feeling Abbie’s hand wrap around mine and squeeze. Charley swallows. I think I’m on the verge of a heart attack, my gaze searching her face for any clue as to what she’s thinking.
I can’t read her. It’s driving me wild.
“Charley?” I whisper.
She turns it towards me, not that I can see the result from this far away. “Positive,” she says quietly. Reluctantly. “You’re pregnant.”
I exhale, my torso folding, and my legs turn to jelly in an instant.
“Sit down,” Abbie says, ushering me to a stool, where I flop onto the seat. I stare forward, my mind now deciding to give me a little refresher on the past few weeks, when I’ve been wrapped up in a whirlwind of passion and feelings. Jude’s face relentlessly flashes through my mind. All his expressions, his charm, his smirks, his heat.
And finally, his desperation.
And the tears come again.
I bury my face in my palms and cry like a child, loud, body-shaking, desperate sobs. How could I have let this happen? How could I have been so completely irresponsible?
I’m quickly engulfed in my friends’ arms, their soothing whispers and hushes quietly detectable past my sobs. This changes everything. I can’t run and hide from Jude Harrison now. My vow to never see him again has been dashed, and it’s my own stupid fault. Staying away was my saving grace. Not having to see him. I could move on, try to find myself again, work hard to put him behind me.
Except I never really lost myself.
If anything, I loved myself more when he was a part of my life. A part ofme.
Which made forgetting him impossible even before this new bombshell. “What am I going to do?” I whisper for the sake of it. I’m not asking what I’m actually going to do; that’s a non-question. More how I will cope. And I don’t mean with a baby. I mean now I can’t eliminate Jude Harrison from my future. Maybe I’m jumping the gun. He might run for the hills.
Sounds disgusting.
“Fuck.” I roughly wipe my face and slam my fist down on the island. “Fuck!” My hand screams in pain, and I turn it over, seeing more spots of blood on the dressing. I’ve had enough of this fucking dressing. I take the edge and yank it off, gritting my teeth as I do. The wound is jagged and ugly. Weeping. It needs air. And definitely a doctor to look at it.
Tossing the bloodied bandage aside, I stand up and march to the patio doors, pulling them open and standing outside, flexing my hand.Ineed air. I can’t breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I grab my hair and yank, punishing myself, then march back into the kitchen. Abbie and Charley haven’t moved, their faces alarmed. “Fuck,” I say over a choked sob, crumbling again, the anger and helplessness getting all mixed up and confused. I’m not sure what I should feel.
“Sit down,” Abbie says, pushing me to a stool. “Christ, Amelia.”
“Are you going to tell him?” Charley asks, refilling her glass again.
Am I? I can’t think. I don’t know what to do. “I need to get my own head around this,” I say quietly, wondering if I ever will. “I can’t even think about what comes next.”
“Well, a baby comes next, so you’d better think fast.” Abbie laughs lightly, but it fades when Charley and I look at her tiredly. “Sorry.”
We’re disturbed when the front door closes, and Lloyd appears in the kitchen doorway, seeming a little wary. “Someone for you,” he says, looking at me.
“Who?” I ask, dread creeping in, my body becoming hard, ready to take him on.
Lloyd moves aside and reveals Clark.Oh God.I deflate, so fucking relieved. “What are you doing here?”
“To check you’re actually here and not lying to me.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious. You were weird on the phone. And you’ve been crying.”
“I’m hot off the back of a breakup, Clark.”
He looks between Charley and Abbie, who are both unusually quiet and awkward. And Clark doesn’t miss it. “What’s going on?”
He really doesn’t want to know. But it turns out I don’t need to tell him. He spots the test on the island and reaches for it, and his gaze slowly moves from the positive window to me. “Fuck,” he breathes.
