by Jami Wagner
Chapter Twenty-five
Kelsey
The next few weeks go slowly. I decline Sara’s mother’s invitation to join them for Thanksgiving. I don’t want to chance seeing Ethan. My parents came home early from their trip, and my mother is more excited about my news than my father. He’s being a total Scrooge this holiday season, but I don’t care. I never expected him to be happy.
There’s no way I’m staying at their house anymore. I don’t want to be anywhere near Ethan. Thinking about him is hard enough. I would lose it if I saw him. But I miss him. I’m so angry and confused, I don’t understand how I can miss him. He’s the reason we’re in this spot to begin with. My cellphone rings on the stand next to my bed. I glance over to see Ethan’s name flashing across the screen. Again. I don’t reach for my phone but instead I sink down into my bed and cover myself completely with my sheets.
The finalist dinner came and went, and although they offered me the position and I accepted it, I can’t even force myself to be happy about it. It’s the one thing in my life actually working out. For as much as I had looked forward to that night, my mind is still in such a fog over everything that’s happened, it almost doesn’t feel real.
“Kelsey?” Sara pokes her head inside my bedroom door. “I’m going to make spaghetti for dinner. Do you want some?”
My stomach rumbles at the word spaghetti. Sounds like my little one is going to be a lover of Italian food just like her mother. I’m almost positive it’s a girl.
“I’m going to take that as a yes.” Sara gives a slight laugh from the door and then leaves.
Once the door closes, I pull the sheets off my face. The red light at the top of my phone screen is blinking. I have a voicemail.
I stare at my phone, trying to decide what to do. Ethan leaves a voicemail every time he calls. I never listen to them and when my mailbox is full, I delete them unheard.
I crawl out of bed and stand in front of the full-length mirror behind my bedroom door. When I was at the hospital I found out I was eight weeks along, which makes me almost eleven weeks now. That means I got pregnant the night of the pool table and my due date is early June. It also means I’m an idiot because I didn’t know for eight weeks. I should have figured it out sooner. I turn to my side and lift up my shirt. I don’t look any different, but I feel like a whole new person.
I have my first real doctor’s appointment next week and Sara is going with me. Every day she tells me I’m making a mistake by not including Ethan, but I try my best to ignore her. She’s still mad at Ethan, but I think she’s even more annoyed at the fact I don’t want him there. I don’t want him around me or the baby at all. He was pretending the whole time we were together and never wanted me to begin with. I don’t want the burden of him pretending he wants a family too.
I just wish I could pretend that I hadn’t fallen in love with him and that my heart doesn’t hurt when I think of him. Most of all, I wish I didn’t miss him.
Ethan
It’s crazy how disappointed a person can be with himself. We are responsible for making our own choices. Even when we know the outcome can be bad, most of the time, we still make mistakes.
I knew what could happen the longer I kept things from Kelsey, and for some reason, I still never found a time to tell her. Now, here I am, lying on the couch in my living room in the dark and feeling angry with myself because I made a mistake. A big mistake.
It’s been almost two months since Logan told me about her first doctor’s appointment. The one where she first heard the baby’s heartbeat and the one I should have been with her. But she still won’t answer my calls. I’ve missed Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s. We were supposed to spend them all together. Now, I may never get the chance.
I’ve considered countless times going over to her apartment and demand she talk to me. I should do it, because after everything, keeping a child from their father is bullshit, but Sara keeps reassuring me Kelsey will come around and I need to give her space. Two months feels like plenty of time to get your space. I need to just face it: Kelsey wants nothing to do with me. Not even as the father of our baby.
Sara’s been kind enough to keep me employed at the BA, but she gave Kelsey a new position keeping the books and lets her do it from their apartment. The fall semester ended, meaning Kelsey’s finally done with college and will walk in the spring to get her degree. I also heard she got the columnist job. Again, I wanted to call to congratulate her—for moments like that, I should be there with her.
I’m also lucky that Logan has been sharing bits and pieces of what Kelsey has been up to and how she’s feeling. He threatens me each time that Sara can never find out what he is doing. More secrets. That’s what got me into this whole mess.
A knock at my door doesn’t pull me off the couch. I don’t care who’s here. If it’s not Kelsey, they don’t matter. The knock quickly turns into pounding until whoever it is gives up and just lets themselves inside.
“Dude, really, get off the couch,” Logan says as he walks closer and then stops to bury his face in his elbow and wave his free hand in front of him. “If that’s you who smells like garbage, we have problems. Come on, get up.”
“I’m good,” I tell him.
“No, you’re not. Look at you, sitting all pathetic on the couch. Not giving a damn. Haven’t showered, haven’t shaved, and haven’t—”
“I don’t have a reason to do any of those things. Drop it,” I say, rising quickly to get in his face.
“Well…at least I got you off the couch.” He pushes me away from him. “Now go shower.”
“No,” I argue, letting my body drop back onto the sofa.
“Alright,” Logan steps toward me and yanks on my arm. Like a little kid, I pull back, lift my foot to his stomach, and push him away before I jump to my feet.
“Dude, what the—”
Logan grabs my arms and pulls me in front of him then shoves me from the back.
“Get in the shower now, Ethan. Kelsey and Sara are going to get some food and we’re going to be at the café with they get there.”
Now he has my full attention.
“She doesn’t want anything to do with me, Logan. It will only make things worse.”
He doesn’t respond right away and his silence lets me know he isn’t giving up.
“Is that what you want?” he asks.
“What?”
“To give up. To just let her go. To let her live her life without you.”
“That’s not what I want. That’s what she wants.”
Logan shakes his head. “So, you are giving up. I have to tell you, I think it’s weak and stupid and you’re an idiot. Stop acting like a girl and being all dramatic. Go get what you want. Don’t take no for an answer.”
“I’m not being a girl,” I tell him and walk straight up the stairs to take a shower.