Page 53 of Until Us

“If you ever need any help or anything, you know where to find me across the street. I would give you my number, but I don’t want to seem disrespectful.”

Like I said, Nick is nice. He seems like a standup guy, but so did Lane. Kalum was—Kalum. Lane never showed up when I left, a huge sign that he didn’t care. He never called to see if I was okay or needed anything. He was gone. His message was plain and simple. He was done with me.

The following week, when my shift was over, I took Nick up on his offer for a walk home.

“Ready? You got your coat? It’s a little cold out,” Nick says.

I nod, but when I pull out my coat, he frowns.

“You need to get something thicker than that,” he says, pointing at my coat.

It’s either a thicker coat or paying the light bill and not freeze to death inside the apartment.

He works at a bank but is not the brightest. He obviously hasn’t put two and two together and figured out I’m broke with a baby on the way.

I’m walking with my hands crossed over my waist to keep myself warm with Nick walking beside me. There is a loud roarof an engine followed by a loud pop. It gets louder as the car drives down the road.

Lane pulls up in his car. Nick stands back as the driver’s side door opens.

Lane points at Nick. “Who is this asshole?”

“Hey man, I don’t want any trouble,” Nick says with his hands raised.

My teeth clench so hard I might saw them off. “What is your problem, Lane? Are you out of your mind?”

Lane flinches like I slapped him. He’s wearing a red racing jacket with different patches of brands from sponsors all over it with a black T-shirt and jeans, making my stomach flutter. It’s like the baby senses him, but then I remember he left me. He left us.

“Who is he?” Lane questions.

“Someone making sure the six-month pregnant girl gets home safe. You know, because the guy who knocked her up gives two shits about her now that she is an inconvenience,” I retort. “Go back to your garage and leave me alone. I have nothing to say to you. I don’t want to see you. If you want a picture of your son, you let me know where to send it?”

He calms down and walks up to me. “We’re having a son?” His eyes land on my stomach.

“Yes.”

My heart clenches watching him blink back tears, but I shake it off. I found out we were having a boy this past Monday, but I hadn’t shared it with anyone. I glance at Nick, and he’s staring at Lane like he’s a celebrity.

“You’re Lane Turner. The man rumored to have helped build the fastest car in the world. You’re like the Michael Jordan of the car world,” Nick says in bewilderment.

Lane rolls his eyes. “Do you mind? I’m trying to fix things with my girl, and you’re kind of ruining it.”

I have never told anyone at the diner or Nick who my boyfriend was. Lane has made a name for himself working on supercars with major car manufacturers. People come from all over the world so he can modify their cars to make them faster.

“Where were you?” I ask Lane.

“Taking care of things.” He wipes his hand down his handsome face. “A lot of things.”

“You couldn’t tell me where you were or answer your phone when I called?” I shake my head, and tears slide down my cheeks. “You couldn’t call or say, ‘hey, I know we’re pregnant, but give me some time’ or ‘hey I want you to leave, Aura, get out.’”

“I know. I’m sorry. I never wanted you to leave me, but I need you to get in the car so I can explain.”

“No. You don’t get to do that. You had your chance,” I say in a hard tone and walk away.

“Aura… don’t.”

“Why don’t you go build another car, Lane. You don’t need a baby to get in your way, and from what I can tell, you don’t need me.”

“I’m not leaving you, and you’re not leaving me. Wherever I go, you go. Remember?” he shouts.

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