Page 20 of Impulsive Love

Once we’re on the road I rest my head against the window, closing my eyes. Abby grabs my hand. “It’s going to be okay. I promise I won’t tell anyone that Chris is the father. Do you want me to go with you when you tell him?”

“No, I should probably tell him by myself.”

“I’m here if you need anything,” she says as she pulls into her driveway. I climb out and my body feels heavy. I feel exhausted. At least that all makes sense now and I know there is an end in sight.

I loved doing my OB rotation and even got to help deliver a baby, but I never really wanted or thought about having one of my own. When I climb out of Abby’s car, I shut the door and walk around to mine.

“Call me,” Abby tells me.

Instead of driving home I decide to go over to Chris’s to tell him about the baby—it’s best to just do it quick, like ripping a band-aid off. It sucks that he doesn’t remember any part of that night. I pull up his address and then plug it into my GPS, just in case I can’t remember how to get there.

When I reach his house butterflies take flight in my belly. I’m really not sure how he’s going to react, but I need to just get it over with. I climb out of my car and head up to the front door.

I ring the doorbell and then wait for him to answer. After a couple of minutes I knock on the door and again no answer, but the door must not have been shut all of the way, because knocking on it pushed it open a bit. I push it open and call out, “Chris?”

The place is a mess—empty bottles of all types litter the coffee table. A mirror with white powder on it sits amongst the bottles. I place a hand on my queasy stomach and move through the living room.

“Chris, are you here?”

I reach his bedroom and push open the door to find him sitting on the edge of his bed, completely nude. I don’t miss the naked feminine bodies lying face down in his bed. My eyes burn. Even though I have no right to be upset, I’m crushed.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is rough from sleep. Chris stands up and I bite my lip to keep from gasping. He looks terrible; his skin has lost its natural glow—it’s pale, sallow. He’s got the beginnings of a gut where his six pack used to be. His eyes are so bloodshot they look red.

“I-I need to talk to you.” God, do I even want to tell him about the baby? Yes, he needs to know, and know I’m not afraid to do it alone.

I look away as he grabs some shorts off the floor and throws them on. “Sure, let me make some coffee.”

He walks by me and I follow him into the kitchen. I wrap my arms around myself, and take a deep breath. “This isn’t easy, so I just need to say it. Um…I’m—I’m pregnant, and it’s yours.” Chris freezes. “I don’t expect anything from you. You’re clearly in no position to be someone’s dad.”

Chris stands frozen in his spot and doesn’t react at all.

“Did you hear me? I’m pregnant, it’s your baby.” I wait a few minutes for him to speak, but he doesn’t say anything. I move toward him, stopping a few feet away. “What’s happened to you?”

I don’t bother waiting for his non-answer and turn around, walking out. “Looks like it’s going to be just me and you,” I whisper.

I can do this…I think.

Chris

“Son, I’m worried about you.” I look up at my dad from my place on the sofa. “You look like shit and I’m worried you’re slowly killing yourself. This is not what your mother would want.”

He’s right, I know he is, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I’m spiraling out of control. It’s been two weeks since Haddie showed up and rocked my world. She’s pregnant with my baby. A night I was so fucked up I don’t even remember, I slept with her, and planted my baby in her belly.

Instead of getting my shit together I went on a major bender that ended with me waking up in a pool of my own vomit.

“You need to go to treatment before you die on me, leaving me all alone.” Dad’s voice cracks, and I hate that I’m the cause of the pain in his voice.

The front door flies open, causing us both to jump. Joe comes storming in, followed by his dad. “You knocked up my fucking sister.” He strikes fast, punching me in the face twice. “How could you fucking touch her?” He gets one more punch in before his dad is there.

Mr. Carmichael pulls him off me and my dad moves to stand in front of me. “Son, is this true?”

“I do-don’t remember it. I was fucked up, and I guess I texted her and she came over. In the morning I woke up and she came back with breakfast.” I look at Joe and his dad. “I swear to god I wouldn’t have touched her. I’m so fucking sorry, brother.”

“Don’t call me that,” he growls, but his dad stayed him with a hand on his chest. “We’re fucking done, do you hear me? I’ve protected you, made excuses, but no more. Stay away from me, my family, especially my sister and her baby.” Joe looks at my dad. “I’m sorry, Robert.” Dylan pulls him out of the house, the door slamming behind them.

My dad gets down on the floor next to me. “Fuck, Dad, I’m so sorry.” I begin sobbing. “I’m such a fucking mess. I ruin everything,” I whisper the last part.

He pulls me into his arms. “Son, you’re sick. You need help, and if you’ll let me, I’ll get you the help you need.”

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