Page 18 of Replay
“It’s not yours.”
That reply is like a fist to the gut. It’s not mine. Tilly is pregnant, but it’s not mine. We’re not exclusive…this I know…but fuck, I guess I just thought if she was with me nearly every weekend, who the hell else would she have time to shag? Clearly someone! Someone with stronger sperm than me. Someone who probably didn’t wear a condom like I did every single fucking time without fail.
“We had rules,” I growl, my anger coming from some dark and scary place. “We weren’t exclusive, but we promised to be safe.”
“I know,” she cries, her voice garbled as she presses her jumper-covered hands to her cheeks. “I didn’t—”
“Didn’t what? Didn’t care if the arsehole wore a condom? You always cared with me. And if you didn’t care, I sure as bloody hell did!” I boom, my voice rising in anger and causing her to full-on cry.
“Santino, stop.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t know everything.”
“What don’t I know?” I roar, uncertain where this anger is coming from but struggling to fight it.
“I don’t…I can’t…” She exhales heavily and crumples to the floor in front of me.
Christ, I’m a fucking monster. Rushing over, I lower myself down beside her, wrapping my arms around her balled-up figure. “Tilly, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m just…I don’t know what I am. I’m an arsehole. This isn’t what you need right now.”
She looks up at me, her blue eyes red-rimmed and swimming with something more than just horror. “I don’t remember it.”
“Don’t remember what?” I rub her back soothingly.
“That night…with that man…when I slept with him. I don’t remember any of it.”
My body stiffens with her admission as a thousand horrid scenarios play through my mind. Scenarios that would involve me fucking murdering the bastard who did this to her. “What are you saying exactly?” I ask slowly, trying to control my rage.
Tilly trembles in my arms, and I reach over to grab a blanket off the sofa. Wrapping it around her, I rub my hands up and down her arms over and over to calm her down. She needs to tell me what happened. I need to know. I have to know.
Finally, she says, “I was out with Honey and Valerie. We were at a pub. It was late…I was drinking a lot. And well, Honey had Molly.”
“Who’s Molly?”
“A drug, you idiot.”
“Oh.”
“Anyways, I wasn’t going to take it, but I don’t know…peer pressure sounds so stupid to blame it on. I’m twenty-seven years old. I’m not a teenager. But fuck, they made me feel ridiculous for not taking it, and so I just took it to shut them up. I didn’t think it would be that strong. But then, Jesus, then everything got blurry. And I remember talking to a guy. I remember snogging him in the loo. Then it all just…goes black. Next thing I know, I’m waking up at three in the morning in some stranger’s flat, and well…there was evidence we shagged…between my legs. I looked everywhere for a condom. I dug through that fucker’s disgusting bins and everything. No sign. It’s his, I know it is.”
She begins sobbing, and I shush her, pulling her into my arms and rocking her back and forth. “So, who is he?”
“That’s the worst part. I went back to his flat, and he was gone and so was his stuff. It was just an Air BnB, I guess. He doesn’t even live here, and I can’t get his name from the hosts because of confidentiality bullshit. They said they’d give him my information, but he’s never contacted me. I’m sure he wants nothing to do with this situation. I know I sure as hell don’t.”
“Fucking arsehole.”
“Fucking cunt!” she adds.
I look around the flat again. “Why all the boxes?”
“I’m moving back to Scotland to live with my parents.”
“What?” I pull back to pin her with a glower. “Why on earth are you doing that?”
“Because I’m knocked up, you eejit! I don’t have the first idea what to do with a child. And my parents do. I have to move back home. I can’t afford anything else, so I have no other choice.”
“Your brother is here,” I state stupidly.
