Page 69 of Good Girl

After the events of the past week, that was truer than I was willing to admit.

Was this to be my future? Standing at this wooden counter watching countless happy couples come and go, staring at lace-draped windows while my fatherless child played at my feet and my mother glared her daggers of shame into my back?

Upon arrival, I'd entertained the idea of telling her. A deeply upset part of my soul had yearned for the comfort of my mother, to break down in her arms and pour out all my heartache about Haley, about the guys, about my pregnancy. I wanted to hear warm comfort and advice from her lips, but that was all a dream. There wasn’t a warm bone in my mother’s body, not since my father had passed, so my yearning went unanswered.

There would be no hiding it in a few months, but until then, I could bask in the one aspect I had control over. My mother wouldn’t know a thing if I managed to keep Haley and Paul appeased. The entire situation they had caught me in was forcing me to choose, and while neither choice was ideal, there was only one answer where I would maintain some semblance of a life.

I had to somehow work out a way to change those grades. Any other option resulted in the men I loved finding out how much of a hassle I really was and kicking me to the curb regardless of what Haley chose to tell people.

At least this way, I could maintain the cool presence of my mother for a few months longer.

“Mom?” Stepping away from the desk, I ducked my head into the empty dining room. My mother sat at a faraway table with her phone caught between her ear and shoulder. She sent me a withering glance, but I forced a pleasant smile regardless.

“I’m heading out for lunch.”

She waved a thin hand in my direction, and I took my leave.

I wasn’t at all hungry, but having some time away from the inn to wander through the nearby park was what I really wanted. It usually took me twenty minutes to loop the park, giving me enough time to eat some lunch and head back before my mother became antsy. Today, though, with no appetite, I simply tried to enjoy the warm sun on my back and the wind rustling through the trees.

A blissful ambiance that was immediately broken by a shrill text notification from my pocket.

Each text and call now had my heart leaping into my throat with fear that it was Haley or Paul deciding they were tired of waiting. In this instance, it was neither.

It was Jonathan.

He had been texting me continuously, but luckily, the noise of everything else this week had drowned him out and I had barely noticed. As I walked, I scrolled through the endless messages he had sent and my lip curled in disgust. It was fake apology after fake apology, a hundred excuses as to why our failed relationship was my fault, how I didn’t know what was good for me, as well as accusations of leading him on for agreeing to go to lunch with him.

All bullshit I was more than used to with him. There were several missed calls too that I had ignored while spending my days sobbing in my dorm. In the grand scheme of everything else that was happening, Jonathan just didn’t seem that important.

Many of the texts seemed to grow angry in nature at being ignored, and I chuckled weakly to myself. Jonathan was going through a whole host of emotions in my inbox and I hadn’t said a word to him. That guy could start a fight in an empty room and still come away the loser.

It didn’t lift my spirits at all, but by the time I returned to the inn, I was feeling less crushed thanks to the distraction.

“Charlotte, is that you?” my mother called the moment I stepped through the door.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Well, hurry up!” she snapped.

I hurried through to find her standing in the dining room with her arms filled with towels and her eyes narrowed with irritation.

“What’s wrong?”

“Where were you?”

“I told you, I went out for lunch.”

“Shouldn’t you try and skip a few of those?” Her brow lifted, and my body lit up with heat as her gaze raked down my form. “You already look like you’ve put on some weight. Isn’t there a gym on campus you can start going to? You have to remember, Charlotte, you’re a representation of me. I don’t want people to think I’m a terrible mother.”

There were no words polite enough to utter in that moment as a wave of hot shame washed over me—at least nothing that would make a fight with my mother worth it. I bit my tongue hard until tears pricked at the back of my eyes, then I forced a deep breath.

“Who are the towels for?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice steady.

“Room 213,” she replied, and she unloaded the towels into my waiting arms. “And be quick about it.”

She scurried away into the kitchen, leaving me standing there fighting the heated urge to cry. My mother was ashamed of me in this state. I didn’t have the capacity to wonder how she would feel when she learned I was pregnant.

My lip trembled and static filled my chest as I climbed the stairs, fighting tears every step of the way. This was the best I could do in a hopeless situation, at least that was what I kept telling myself. I had to focus on Haley and Paul. Once that problem was sorted, the rest would fall into place.

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