Page 67 of Rebel Heart
With such disbelief marring his features and caution in his tone, he asked, “You’re pregnant?”
Even though he was no longer smiling at me like he had been when he first walked over to the trampoline, at least Beau wasn’t screaming at me to leave and never contact him again. Processing. He was processing the news, and I thought that was better than simply reacting to it.
And to make it as simple and painless as possible for the both of us, I was going to try to answer his questions with facts and as little emotion or opinions as possible. “I am.”
“How did you find out? How do you know?”
More questions. I’d had plenty of my own, so I could understand this. And I’d give him what I could to make this easier. I pulled out one of the pregnancy tests and held it out to him. “Initially, I took two tests. They both came back positive. The next morning, I took another one, just to be sure. It, too, was positive.”
Beau took the test from me and inspected it. “Okay. Alright.” He nodded his understanding, his eyes dropping to the test again.
With my focus still solely on him, I couldn’t miss the overwhelm and panic that had set in. It seemed he was putting in massive effort to remain calm, to get the facts, and to take this one step at a time.
Beau returned his attention to me and parted his lips to ask another question, but he stopped himself.
“What is it?”
He shook his head. “No. It’s nothing.”
Clear as day, I could see that there was something. “I had a lot of questions, too, Beau. Unfortunately, I had nobody to ask when I learned about this. You do. Just ask me whatever it is.”
He winced as his eyes roamed over my face, like he had a question he wanted to ask but was struggling to verbalize.
It took me a moment, but I realized what was weighing on him. And it hurt. God, it was like taking a knife through my already shattered heart. “You want to know if this baby is yours, but you don’t want to be insensitive. Am I right?”
Beau’s expression turned pained, but he didn’t respond, couldn’t bring himself to utter the words.
For the first time since he’d asked his first question, I responded with a bit more than just simple facts. Maybe it was the way the doubt he had about me made me feel, but I gave him more information than he needed. “I won’t lie and say I haven’t gone out in hopes of finding someone after you… ended things between us weeks ago. But I haven’t been with anyone else since you. Just some dancing, but that’s all. Not even a kiss.”
Understanding, acceptance, and dare I say, relief swept over him. “Does anyone else know?”
I shook my head. “No. I thought you should be the first to know. And I’m not entirely sure I’m prepared to tell anyone else just yet. I’ve barely been able to come to terms with this news.”
Except for Beau, who’d been on my mind every day since I’d learned I was pregnant, my thoughts frequently drifted to my family. I tried to imagine how they’d respond to this news when I finally shared it with them. The pregnancy would come as a total shock. But learning that I wasn’t even officially dating the man whose baby I was carrying was a whole other issue. And to make matters worse, they already had thoughts about Beau, considering he was the reason I shed a tear or two on my birthday.
No sooner would thoughts of my family and their reactions filter into my brain, I’d quickly shove them into the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind. I’d need to tackle each part of this pregnancy one step at a time. And for now, sharing the news with Beau, determining where he stood, and figuring out a plan for the two of us moving forward as parents was at the top of that list.
Beau hadn’t let go of my hand and offered a reassuring squeeze. At least, it felt reassuring. Of course, it could have been the way he looked at me and asked the next questions that eased some of the panic I’d been experiencing. “How do you feel? Are you feeling alright?”
Warmth seeped in at that inquiry. “Tired. I’m very, very tired almost all the time. Other than that, physically speaking, I had a couple of bouts of nausea over the last two weeks, but I’m not sure if that’s the result of the pregnancy itself or simply my nerves from carrying this on my own and needing to tell you.”
“Have you been to the doctor?”
“Not yet. I have an appointment in two weeks. It was the soonest that would work with my schedule and theirs.”
My response was met with silence. Another long bout of it, too.
Every instinct in my body was screaming at me to get up and shout and demand answers and beg. Beg Beau not to leave me to this on my own. To be willing to walk down this path with me no matter how hard it got.
Even if he chose not to be with me, even if he decided that being both a father and a romantic partner were too much, I would have forsaken the romantic relationship with him to know he’d be in our child’s life, helping to raise him or her.
But I didn’t get up.
I didn’t beg.
I didn’t even squeeze his hand and urge him to look in my direction.
I waited.
