Page 12 of The Little Black Rose

I Don’t Believe in Fairy Tales

Ava

After the echoes of my shout reverberate off the walls, you could hear a pin drop on the fancy marble tile beneath my feet. I can’t believe Zeke just did that. And I can’t breathe. And I might puke up the two bites of chicken I just ate.

Zeke very calmly pulls his napkin from his lap and tosses it onto the table. He stands and, not sparing a glance for any of the others, meets my eyes.

“Can I speak to you in private?”

I swallow against the lump in my throat and nod. He moves aside to let me pass, and I avoid eye contact with the girls as I round the table and leave the dining room. I can feel Zeke behind me as I head for the glass doors that lead to the back deck.

I don’t really know how I feel about his revelation. I’m not mad, exactly, just surprised. And confused. I know I’m going to have some explaining to do to the others––Zoey, in particular––but my biggest worry is that Zeke didn’t think this through. I gave him an out by not naming him as the father. He could’ve taken it and lived his life in relative peace. But instead, he stood up and claimed this baby in front of the people closest to us.

But what does it mean in the grand scheme of things?

As I slide open the door and step out into the brisk night air, I realize I’m about to find out. I shiver as Zeke slides the door closed behind us. He notices and pulls his button-down shirt off, draping it over my shoulders and leaving himself in nothing but a tight, white t-shirt. I slip my arms into the sleeves and try not to admire the way his muscles stretch the material of his shirt.

“What was that?” I ask, my irritation at my body’s response to him coming through in my tone. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to know about us.”

“That was when it was just sex. This is different, Ava. This is my baby we’re talking about,” he says, and all the oxygen on the planet disappears.

My baby.

I suck in a breath and shake my head. “I didn’t ask for your help, and you don’t have to upend your life because of my mistake. I’ve got this, Zeke.”

“We’vegot this, Ava,” he says, taking my breath away again. “You and I might not like each other very much, but we made this baby together. It’s half of me. It’s…wait. Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“No,” I say in a choked whisper as excitement lights up his eyes, then clear my throat. “I’m only three months along. The baby is the size of a plum.”

Thank you, internet.

“Have you been to a doctor yet?”

“No,” I say. “I just found out I’m pregnant a few days ago. I have an appointment on Monday.”

“Where and what time?”

My head rears back in shock. “You want to come?”

“Yes, Ava. Of course, I want to come.”

“Okay,” I breathe. “I’ll text you the address tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to drive you?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“Wait, Zeke. What is going on here? You wanted nothing to do with me after that night and insisted we tell no one, and now you’re announcing you’re the father and coming to doctor’s appointments?”

“This is mychild, Ava. I’m not going to disappear or act like a fuckingspermdonor. I will always be there for him or her. Always.”

Okay. Got it. This is all about the baby and has nothing to do with me. He doesn’t want me, just his child. Am I okay with that? Of course, I am. More than okay.

This means I’m not alone. I don’t have to raise this child by myself. I have help, someone who’ll love this baby just as much as I do. I’m definitely okay with that.

I nod quickly, saying, “I’ll text you the address and meet you there at one-forty-five.”

“Good,” he says, then looks toward the door. “I guess we should get back in there.”

A nervous chuckle bursts out of me, and I say, “I’ll go first. They won’t murder a pregnant woman.”

---