I nod, because I do believe him. I don’t think he would hurt me intentionally, but it doesn’t erase what he said.
I don’t love her.
I don’t believe in love.
I refuse to fall in love.
“Listen.” I take a step forward, keeping a safe distance, because if he touches me, I’ll have a hard time not giving in. I need to think this through. “We’ve both had a long day—”
“No. Don’t do this. Please, don’t leave.”
My chin trembles. Tears prickle behind my eyes. “I can’t stay.” My voice cracks, and Lincoln’s face falls.
This time when he reaches for me, I let him. He pulls me against his chest and buries his face in my neck.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry for the things I said. I swear to you, I didn’t mean it. You have to know how much you mean to me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, and when Lincoln pulls back, he cradles my face in his hands and rests his forehead against mine.
“I love you, Adley. So much. I can’t lose you over this.”
“Oh my gosh. No,” I yell, shoving him. He stumbles backward. “You don’t get to say that to me. Not now. Not after what you just said to your father.”
“Adley, I didn’t mean it. I was just pissed off. How many times do I have to say that?” His eyes are bright with a panic I can’t quite wrap my head around. “You have to believe me. I love you.”
I shake my head, and he grabs my arm.
“I love you,” he says, softer this time.
“It’s not about believing you,” I cry. “I believe you care about me.”
“Love,” he stresses. “I love you.”
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter what word you use. What matters is that I don’t trust your feelings for me now. How do I know you’re not saying this because you’re afraid of losing me?”
Lincoln’s eyes widen. “What do you want me to do? Tell me what to do to get you to believe me, and I’ll do it.”
Tears drip down my face, and I don’t bother wiping them away. “Take the next few days and be with your dad. He needs you, and so does Chloe.”
“What about what I need?” Lincoln pulls me into his arms, but I struggle against him, and he lets me go.
“It’s not about what you need anymore,” I say, thinking of the tiny life growing inside of me.
It’s because of that life that I have to walk away from Lincoln and figure how to move forward.
“I need some time to think.”
“You mean time to distance yourself from me?”
“Lincoln—”
“Is this what you wanted? Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” he asks, dragging a hand through his hair. “For me to fuck up so you can walk away without feeling guilty?”
I shake my head in disbelief. “What? No. Don’t try to turn this around on me.”
“Fuck,” he grunts. “That’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m just lost here. I don’t know why you won’t believe me. I don’t want you to leave. I made a mistake. I said things I didn’t mean. Why the fuck aren’t you listening to me when I tell you that?”
“I’m listening,” I stress, digging my keys out of my pocket. “I hear you. And I want to believe you. But what you said in there, you said with so much passion. I just…”
He sighs and looks at the ground. “Go. If you need time away from me to think, then go.”
I don’t answer him with words. Instead, I climb into my car and leave.
I wait until I’m far enough away from the hospital that he can’t see me, and then I pull my car off the road. Dropping my forehead to the steering wheel, I bury my face in my hands and cry.
Several minutes pass. My phone vibrates, and I sit up. Wiping the tears from my face, I reach for my phone, secretly hoping it’s Lincoln begging me to come back. My hope dissipates when I see Mo’s name lighting up the screen.
Girls night started an hour ago and you’re still not here. Do I need to send out a search party?
Shit. Sorry, I forgot.
Don’t apologize. Just get your ass here.
Rain check?
Everything okay?
No, nothing is okay, and right now I feel as though it’ll never be okay again. But I can’t tell her that because she’ll show up at my house, insert herself into my problems, and not give up until I tell her everything. Right now, I just really want to be alone.
Everything is great.
Her response is immediate. Dinner tomorrow night?
Maybe. Let’s keep in touch.
Are you in Houston?
Not anymore. I’m heading home.
Tossing my phone onto the passenger seat, I put my car in drive and head toward Heaven. To my home, not the one I’ve been sharing with Lincoln for the past week. I make the drive on autopilot, my brain circulating the events of the last seven days. Exhausted, when I arrive I climb out of my car, unlock the front door, and drop my purse on the couch.
Everything is as I left it a week ago.
I kick the door shut, lock it, and walk straight to my bedroom. Setting my phone on the nightstand, I peel off my clothes and drop them to the floor before collapsing on the bed. It still smells of Lincoln from the last time we were here together.
Burying my face in the pillow he used, I cry.
I cry for his family.
I cry for the relationship with him I desperately wanted.
I cry because I’m scared and alone, and I don’t know how to move forward.
I cry for our unborn baby.
And then those cries turn to a sob when my phone vibrates with an incoming text from Lincoln.
It’s about more than feelings. It’s about your smile. I love your smile.
27
Adley
Weighted down by more emotions than I knew existed, I text Mo, Claire, and Tess to tell them I won’t make it to the dinner Mo had proposed for tonight. It’s the second time in two days I’ve canceled on them, and I’m counting on the excuse of abdominal cramps to get me off the hook.
Plus, I’m not completely lying. My stomach feels weird. No, I’m not having actual cramps, because I would have to have a period to have cramps, and I don’t have periods anymore because Lincoln’s stupid little sperm decided to attach itself to me, and now I’m pregnant.
Pregnant.
Placing my hand over my stomach, I look down. “See? I already suck at this mother thing. I just called you stupid, and you’re not even here to defend yourself. For the record, I don’t really think you’re stupid. I bet you’re pretty wonderful. But your father, he’s stupid.”
I sigh, closing my eyes against an onslaught of memories of Lincoln.
Laughing together on the couch.
Him feeding me bites of food while I study for a test.
I remember all the little ways he used to look after me: making sure my gas tank was full, getting my oil changed while I was in school, packing me a lunch so I wouldn’t forget to eat.
A tear runs down my cheek, and I wipe it away. “I lied. He’s not so bad either. I’m just a little hurt that he may not feel the same way about me as I do about him. But I’m sure he’s going to be an amazing father. He’ll step right up to the plate and handle the situation with ease and grace.”
As soon as I tell him.
Grabbing a tub of ice cream from the fridge and spoon from the drawer, I carry them into the living room and plop down on the couch. It’s stiffer than the one at Lincoln’s, and I frown when I realize the comfy blanket I’m used to curling up with is his. I didn’t realize how much I’d made myself at home at his place. It’s not the same being here without him.
I pull up This Is Us, a show I’ve been wanting to watch but haven’t had time for.
I’m three episodes into the first season when someone knocks on my door. I blink and look down at the now-empty carton of ice cream—evidence that I’m nursing a broken heart and pregnant.
I pick up my phone, but there ar
e no missed calls or texts from Lincoln, putting a nix to my hope that he would chase after me even though I asked for time apart.
“Oh, stop it, Adley,” I mumble. “He just can’t love you the way you love him, and now you’re tied to the guy forever.”
There’s another knock on the door and then Mo’s voice. “We know you’re in there, Adley. We can hear you talking to yourself.”
Rolling my eyes, I look through the peephole.
Mo, Claire, and Tess.
Mo lifts an eyebrow, as though she can see me through the hole. “We’re not leaving.”
“I told you I’m not feeling well, and I’d really like to be alone.” I rest my head against the door and cross my fingers that they’ll believe me and walk away.
“We know something is bothering you,” Tess says, nudging Mo out of the way. “And we’re not here to make things worse for you or force you to talk about what’s going on—”
“Yes, we are,” Claire whispers.
“Shush.” Tess elbows Claire and continues. “We just want you to know that whatever it is, we’re here for you. But you should also know that we’re not leaving.”
I take a deep breath and blow it out. If I let them in here, I’m going to lose what little control I have on my emotions. Oh hell, who am I kidding? I lost control of my emotions the second a tiny pink line popped up on that damn stick.
“We brought brownies from Sweetie Pies,” Claire says, holding up the familiar purple box.
I open the door.
Claire hands me the box.
Mo hands me a bottle of wine.
“This changes nothing,” I say, sad that I can’t drink a lick of this wine. And it’s my favorite, too. “I have cramps.”
“No, you don’t,” Claire says.
“You’re right. I don’t. I’m sorry I lied.”
“That’s okay,” Mo says, ushering everyone into my home.
“How did you know something was wrong?”
“Well, for starters, you never cancel on girls’ night,” Mo says. “And you certainly don’t cancel twice.”
Tess looks at the empty carton of ice cream on the table. “Did you eat all of that?”
I nod.
Claire frowns. “This is worse than I thought.”
“What did you think?” I mutter, setting the wine down so I can dive into the brownies.
I pull out my first one—yes, first, because I intend to eat all of them—and take a bite.
“I’d much rather just hear what’s going on,” Claire says, reaching for the box. I slap her hand away. “Hey, there’s plenty in there for the rest of us.”
“You’re right,” I cry, shoving the box at her chest. “I’m a horrible friend, and I’m going to make a horrible mother.”
All three of them freeze.
Mo is the first to move. “Did you say mother?” she asks, sneaking the wine from the counter. She shoves it in a cabinet.
I nod, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
“Wow. Okay. I did not see this coming.” Tess paces across the room. “When we staged this little intervention, I thought it was because you’d either failed your boards or some guy broke your heart.”
“It’s worse,” I say, shoving another bite of brownie in my mouth.
Claire steps forward. “Worse as in you haven’t told the father yet, or worse like you told him, he freaked out, and now you have to raise the baby by yourself?”
Shit. I didn’t think of that. What if Lincoln freaks out, and I have to raise this baby on my own? He did say the last thing the world needs is another Bennett running around.
Bile pushes up my throat.
“Oh, no.” Mo takes my arm and guides me to a chair. “Tess, grab a bottle of water. She looks like she’s going to vomit.”
Tess gets a bottle from the refrigerator and hands it to me. Rather than twisting the top off, I press the cool plastic to my forehead and then move it to my chest.
“Adley,” Mo says. “For the record, you’ll never have to raise this baby by yourself. We’re all here for you.” She looks at the other girls, who are nodding like little bobbleheads. “And your brothers are here too, so don’t ever feel alone. But I have to ask… Do you know who the father is?”
“Of course I know who the father is,” I snap, instantly feeling guilty. “I’m sorry. My emotions are all over the place.”
“I’ve heard that’s normal,” Claire says, using my moment of weakness to steal a brownie from the box.
“Really? I wouldn’t know.” I laugh humorlessly as more tears spring to my eyes. “There’s a lot I don’t know. Like how to change a diaper or make a bottle. I wouldn’t even know what type of formula to buy. There’s a million different types.”
Tess nods, stealing a brownie for herself. “There are way too many choices. Why can’t they have two formula options…regular and diet?”
Mo shoves Tess out of the way. “Forget the formula. You’ll learn all of that later—”
“I will?” I interrupt.
“Yes.” Mo’s eyes soften. She pulls out a chair next to me and sits down. “You’re going to make a wonderful mother, Adley.”
“I am?”
She nods. “You’re kind, loving, smart, and loyal, just like your mother.”
“Thank you.”
She nods. “Now, tell us who the father is.”
I shove the rest of the brownie in my mouth, chewing it as slowly as possible, because once the words are out there, I can’t take them back, and it doesn’t feel right to tell the girls about the baby before I tell Lincoln.
“Shouldn’t I tell him first?”
“You haven’t told him yet?” she asks.
I shake my head.
Claire places her hand on mine. “We’re your best friends, Adley. You can tell us. We promise we won’t say anything.”
I swallow the brownie and take a cleansing breath. “It’s Lincoln.”
“Lincoln Bennett?” Tess asks.
I nod.
Claire drops the rest of her brownie on the table. “Rhett’s best friend, Lincoln?”
I nod again.
“Oh.” Mo’s eyes go round. “Oh, this is bad.”
“So much worse, right?”
She nods. “Rhett is going to kill him. This is it. My fiancé is going to end up in jail before we even get married.”
“No.” I shake my head and grab her hand. “No, he won’t because you’re not going to tell him.”
Mo blinks. “Adley, please don’t ask me to lie to your brother.”
“You promised you wouldn’t say anything.”
“No, Claire promised she wouldn’t say anything.”
This isn’t good. Standing up, I push my fingers into my hair and walk to the opposite side of the room. My heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest.
“I can’t believe I told you,” I say softly, mostly to myself.
A gentle hand lands on my shoulder, and I whip around.
Mo takes a step back, watching me as though I’m a wild animal. “I’m glad you told me because it means you trust me. You just caught me off guard. I promise I won’t tell Rhett, but if he flat-out asks me if Lincoln is the father, I can’t lie to him—not after everything we’ve been through.”
“Thank you.” I nod. “I appreciate that. And I’m going to tell him—I’m going to tell everyone—but I need to tell Lincoln first. I just found out.”
“Are you and Linc together?” Tess asks.
I shake my head. Dropping into the seat I just vacated, I resign myself to telling them the whole sordid story, starting with the very first time I met Linc, every crazy moment after that, and ending with what happened at the hospital last night.
“Wow,” Claire breathes. “That’s some affair.”
“Maybe he really was talking out of anger and didn’t mean what he said,” Claire suggests.
“We’ve all done it,” Mo adds.
“Trust me, I get it. I know. But how am I supposed
to trust his feelings for me after hearing him say he doesn’t want a family and will never be able to fall in love?”
“But didn’t he tell you he loves you?” Tess asks, scrunching her forehead.
“Yes, and that’s just it. He told me he loves me mere minutes after vowing never to fall in love. How do I know what to believe? And it’s not just me anymore,” I say, resting a hand on my stomach. “I have a baby to think about.”
Mo wraps an arm around my shoulders. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“So, what are you going to do now?” Claire asks.
“I’m going to cry and eat the rest of these delicious brownies, and then I’m going to take a few days to myself and process what all of this means.” I wave a hand over my stomach. “And then I’m going to tell Lincoln about the baby.”
Mo slides the box in front of me. “That sounds like a solid plan.”
I grab another brownie and stare at it for a moment. When I take a bite and look up, Claire is smiling.
“Don’t judge me. I need this brownie more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life.”
Tears fill her eyes, and Claire shakes her head. “I’m not judging.”
“Then why are you staring at me like that?”
“You’re pregnant,” she whispers, smiling tremulously. She reaches toward my belly. “May I?”
I nod my head and scoot back. Claire lays a hand on my stomach. “There’s a tiny baby in there.” Leaning down she whispers, “I’m going to be the best darn aunt you’ve ever had.”
“Me too,” Mo says, resting her hand on Claire’s.
Tess puts her hand on top of Mo’s. “I’m not going to legally be your aunt, because I refuse to marry your uncle Beau or Cooper, but I promise to love you and take care of you.”
“Oh, you guys.” Big, fat tears streak down my face, and I put my arms around my sisters, because that’s what they are to me.
When my phone vibrates, I peek over Claire’s shoulder and see a text from Lincoln.
And your laugh. You have an infectious laugh.
28
Lincoln
I stand outside my house and stare at the front door. It’s been two days since Adley walked away. Two days since I fucked up the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve given her the space she asked for, and it’s killing me. I knew I’d fallen in love with Adley, but I didn’t realize how much I needed her until she was gone. I miss everything: her smile, laugh, the way she crinkles her nose when she’s studying. I miss her hand linked with mine and kissing her goodnight. I miss every fucking thing. And it’s only been two days.
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