Laura’s words are still hanging in the air, a smoldering wreckage I can’t avoid.
I’m guessing you finally got him alone to tell him about the baby?
The baby.
The thought takes root in my mind, cold and heavy, and my body reacts before I can stop it. Meatball shifts on my chest, but the movement does nothing to relieve the weight pressing down on me. Every beat of my heart is thunderous in my ears.
I glance at Sara, sitting there, tangled in a blanket, her eyes wide, her lips moving, but the words don’t make sense. It’s as though I’m watching a person scream underwater. Everything’s distorted. Out of reach.
I stand, my body moving cautiously. I shift Meatball off me, and he gives a disgruntled huff before hopping off the couch with a shake. I barely notice him.
“Is it true?” I ask, and I don’t recognize my own voice. It’s too controlled. Too calm.
Too fucking cold.
Sara’s gaze snaps to mine, and I see the panic in her eyes. “Nick?—”
“Why the hell would you keep that from me?”
“Because we had to keep our distance, and?—”
“Don’t,” I cut her off, the words coming out sharper than I intended. Before I know it, I’m standing. Buttoning my shirt with trembling hands, each movement mechanical, almost disconnected.
“Don’t lie to me, Sara. You still could have told me.”
“I’m not lying,” she says quickly, panic in her voice. “I… I was going to tell you. I swear. Today.”
I laugh, but it’s empty. It’s the sound of disbelief, not humor. “So Laura just beat you to it?”
She nods, clutching the blanket tighter around her. “Yes. I was panicking. You’d been distant, and I didn’t know what to do. There’s been so much drama, and you’ve been cold…”
I start pacing, my mind spinning, every step an electric current running through me. “And what? You were going to spring it on me? Just casually drop it over coffee? Oh, by the way, I’m having your kid?”
Her face falls, the pain clear. “It’s not like that.”
“No?” I ask, the words escaping in a sharp bite. “Because that’s exactly what it feels like.”
“I didn’t plan this!” she shouts, her voice trembling. “Do you think I wanted this to happen like this? That I wanted to?—”
I don’t let her finish. “You should have told me.” I feel the anger rising, thick and suffocating. “You should have told me the second you knew.”
Her jaw shakes. Her eyes fill with tears. “I was scared.”
The word freezes me. Scared?
Of me?
I stop in my tracks, staring at her, trying to piece it together. “Why?”
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Struggles for words.
“Because… because you’re my boss. And you’re older. And intimidating. And rich. And powerful. And you backed away once, and I thought…” Her voice cracks. “I thought if I told you, you’d run.”
It’s as if she slapped me. I take a step back, shaking my head in disbelief. “You thought I’d run?”
“I didn’t know what else to think!” she shouts, her voice breaking. “You were pulling away. You barely looked at me after that night, Nick. And then I started feeling sick, and I missed my period, and… God, I thought I was losing my mind, but the test came back and…”
I press my fingers to my temples, trying to push away the fog in my mind, but it’s no use. “When did you find out?”