Waiting for Tuesday: Suspicious Hearts Book Two

by Taylor Sullivan

  I wanted to believe her so much, and a part of me began to have hope. He was a good man. This wasn’t ideal, but I couldn’t imagine him turning his back on his own child. I couldn’t see him walking out on us the way my father had done, but at the same time…

  “I never thought this would happen to me.”

  Becky tucked my hair behind my ear. “I don’t think anyone ever does, sweetie.”

  There was a quick tap on the door a while later, and we both looked up.

  A petite woman with dark brown hair peeked into the room. “Hi, I’m Dr. Kim.” Her smile was bright, cheerful, and easy on the nerves. She entered the room and walked across the floor to wash her hands. She dried them slowly then sat on the rolling stool in front of me, as though purposefully allowing me time to collect my emotions.

  “I have a feeling this news was unexpected,” she said softly, but the tone of her voice only confirmed my fears. What I discovered in the drugstore bathroom was true: I was pregnant.

  I nodded, fighting back tears.

  “When was your last period?” the doctor asked.

  I looked to Becky, as if expecting her to know the answer. “Umm… Six weeks ago? I don’t remember exactly.”

  I faced her again, not able to control my fluster. This was something every woman should know, especially while sexually active, but I hadn’t been in a relationship for over a year. I’d been too… busy to pay enough attention.

  The doctor nodded, not seeming to judge me in any way, and asked me to lie back on the table so she could conduct an internal ultrasound.

  Becky moved from the table to stand by my side, holding my hand and telling me everything would be okay. I was trying to stay positive, but the reality of what was happening overwhelmed me.

  I closed my eyes, trying to focus on my breathing, but then the room filled with a loud swishing sound that reminded me of a million tiny horses. I let out an audible gasp and turned toward the monitor. Tears filled my eyes, so thick they were almost blinding.

  There, on the twelve inch black and white monitor, was my baby. Curled up like a tiny pea, hands and arms perfectly formed, heart beating even faster than my own.

  “Oh, my God.” I looked to Becky, who may have been crying harder than me. “I’m going to have a baby.”

  She nodded. “You’re having a baby.”

  The doctor continued to move the ultrasound around, clicking buttons before turning to me. “It looks like…” She hit one more button. “You’re about ten weeks. Maybe eleven.”

  My chest tightened, and all the air expelled from my lungs. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and shook my head. “That’s not possible.” I could feel the walls coming in around me at the possibility of this not being John’s baby. “I’ve had my period. I know I have.”

  I looked over at Becky again, needing to convince her, because maybe if I did, I could make this nightmare untrue. That I could make this baby John’s, instead of a man I barely remembered.

  I looked at Becky’s face; it was drained of all color, her eyes filled with a pain I knew she was feeling for me. “Remember when you came to my apartment to help with invoices? I had it then, I know it.”

  Dr. Kim’s brows furrowed, and she rested one hand on my knee. “It’s common to bleed in your first trimester,” she stated. “But you are in fact, close to your second.”

  A sob fell from my lips, and I covered my face with my hands. This couldn’t be.

  This couldn’t be true.

  Dr. Kim squeezed my knee then stood and crossed the room, where she tossed her rubber gloves to the trash and collected a handful of brochures. “I know this is a lot to take in all at once, but these will help.” She handed them over then put her hand on my shoulder. “Do you have any questions for me?”

  I looked to Becky again, my lips frozen. “I’ve had alcohol. Beer, wine.” Becky shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as I looked back at Dr. Kim.

  Her smile was kind. “It happens all the time. If you’re concerned, we can run some tests, but many women consume alcohol before finding out they’re pregnant. It will be okay.” She looked from me to Becky, silently waiting for more questions, but I could only stare into space.

  Becky turned to her and smiled. “Thank you so much for seeing us today. I think she’s good. Just needs some time to process.”

  Dr. Kim nodded. “Of course.” She smiled one last time before leaving the room and pulling the door softly closed behind her.

  I turned to Becky, hardly able to contain my emotions. “You have to find him. You have to find Austin.”

  She sat beside me again, knowing exactly whom I was talking about. “You don’t have to tell him, Tuesday. He walked out on you. What kind of father would he make?”

  I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter what I want…” I played with the edge of my paper gown. “I spent my whole life desperate to know my own father, not caring how good or bad he was. I just wanted to know him. To know what he looked like, to know if he looked like me.” I grabbed a handful of my hair. “To know if he’s where I got this.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and let my hands fall to my lap. “I won’t deny my child that. Even if the thought of telling Austin makes me uncomfortable.”

  Becky laughed a little, not in a humorous way, but in a way that admitted I was right. “Are you going to tell John?”

  My throat tightened, and I looked her in the eye. “I have to.”

  She nodded, because really, there was no other option. I had to tell him, I just had no idea how I would bear it.

  She pulled in a breath, as though this news was as difficult for her as it was for me. “What do you think he’ll say?”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, unable to answer. My heart was already splitting in two at the thought.

  If my biological father wouldn’t stay, why on earth would he?

  Chapter TWENTY-FIVE

  Tuesday

  It was quarter to six when I finally made it back to the shop. Becky and I had spent the afternoon drinking tea and talking, but so few words came about my situation. We were both in shock, which was strange, considering I was the one who was pregnant. But things that affected me had always affected her just as much, no matter how far apart we were at the time—ever since we were little girls.

  Before I left though, she promised, without a shadow of a doubt, that she would find my baby’s father. She would find Austin, and I believed her.

  I opened the door to the back room, where the guys were already packing up for the day. This was how I planned it. Because I couldn’t bear to face John while the guys were here.

  He was in the far corner of the room talking to Leo, and I fought to keep my breath even. I didn’t know how to do this. Tell the man I loved, loved more deeply than I ever thought possible, that I was pregnant with another man’s baby. But I had no choice.

  He looked over at me out of the corner of his eye, but his lips curved in that crooked smile I loved. He was excited to see me, which would normally fill my stomach with butterflies and excitement but crushed me so much now. Because I knew after tonight, he’d never smile at me like that again. After I told him, he wouldn't look at me like that anymore. It would be different, and I wouldn’t blame him even a tiny bit.

  The guys gathered the rest of their equipment, eager to be gone. There were only a few days left of work, and they didn’t want to be here as much as I wanted them gone. Though the closer they got to leaving, the higher my anxiety climbed.

  “Night, Ms. Patil,” Leo said, as he made his way to the parking lot.

  I nodded like always. “Night.” But tonight was so much different. Because instead of being excited to finally have John to myself, I was filled with fear, panic, and regret. So much regret.

  I wrapped my arms around my belly, to the baby that had been growing there without my knowing, and swallowed back the bitter bile that was clawing up my throat.

  John leaned against the new stainless steel counter and be
ckoned me with his finger. It was a game we played, the christening of every single surface of the shop. Every table, floor, chair, and tonight would be the new counters. I walked toward him, my lip between my teeth, but words trapped in my throat.

  “Where’d you go?”

  I stopped in front of him, shaking my head, and I pulled in a deep breath. I wanted to spit it out, to get it over with, to just say the damn words. I’m pregnant John, and you’re not the father. But I couldn’t. My eyes brimmed with tears, and my chest grew heavy with the words that were trapped inside me. As if my body was trying to protect my heart by incapacitating my vocal chords.

  His brows furrowed, and his hand came up to touch my jaw. My head leaned into his palm involuntarily, and I took a deep breath. God, I loved this. I loved the way he touched me, loved his rough hands that were so gentle at the same time.

  “Is everything okay?”

  I closed my eyes, trying to force back tears that threatened to spill over. He pulled me into his chest, encompassing me with his arms, and surrounding me with his heat. It wasn’t even cold out, but I hadn’t been warm since I heard the news.

  “Shit.” He hugged me tighter. “What’s wrong, Tuesday?”

  I could feel my heart ripping in two, but I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my ear to his chest to feel his heart beating, and trying to memorize all of it. He was a man who didn’t run from a conversation. He confronted things head on, eyes open, but how could I tell him I was pregnant with another man’s child? How could I face him every day afterward?

  I took in a deep, shaky breath and opened my eyes, forcing myself back just enough so I could look at him. He was watching me, jaws tight but eyes soft.

  He touched my face again, then his other hand came up so he cradled my head in both hands. He looked into my eyes without words, telling me I could say anything, that it was okay to be vulnerable because he would protect me.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked again.

  I shook my head, fighting an internal battle between pushing him away and squeezing him tighter and never letting go. I tried to think of the words that wouldn’t be misunderstood. Because if I said I was pregnant, he would think the baby was his, and I’d have to explain. If I said I was pregnant with another man’s baby, he would think I’d been unfaithful. Been with other men when we were together. But this situation was far more complicated than that, and I couldn’t stand either option. Even for the split second before I got to explain.

  I looked to the floor then, knowing I couldn’t bear to see what he looked like when I said the words. I wanted the last memory of John to be the way he looked at me when I walked into the room.

  “John, I―” I pulled in a deep breath, unable to force the words from my lips. I needed him to know this time between us wasn’t nothing. That being with him made me realize I’d been selling myself short for a long time. I took another breath and started again. “I need you to know something… These last weeks have been the most amazing of my life.”

  A tear fell down my face, and he pulled me closer, crushing me against his chest as he let out an audible breath. “Nothing’s going to change, baby.”

  I shook my head, more tears welling in my eyes and spilling down my cheeks. I wished he were right, that we could go on like this forever. But he was wrong. So wrong.

  He pushed me back at my shoulders, just enough so he could look at me. Then he lifted my chin with his finger. “Just because I won't be working here any longer doesn’t mean I won’t be here every day.”

  His eyes were penetrating mine, honest, and I choked on a sob because I wished, so desperately, that that was what this was about. More than anything in my life. His brows pulled together, and he brushed a tear away from my cheek with his thumb. He searched my eyes then shook his head slightly, as though realizing it was more than that.

  My breath slowed, and his lips pressed against my forehead, my nose, on each cheek, kissing the tears away. My chest heaved and I forced my eyes open. In four more days, this job would over. Four more days, so why tell him now?

  His jaw flexed, as though preparing himself for what I was about to say, knowing it would be something huge.

  My chest tightened as I looked into his eyes. “I love you.”

  It wasn’t how I expected to tell him, but I needed him to know. I’d never felt for anyone the way I felt for him, and spending my whole life not having said those words was more than I could take. His eyes bored into mine, never wavering, never a hint of uncertainty, and he cupped the side of my jaw. “I love you too.”

  I cried harder because I knew it was selfish to take his love. To take his trust, when I held this secret. When I knew it would end our love story the moment he knew. But as selfish as it was, I was somehow able to convince myself it would be easier if I waited.

  Easier for him, because when I told him he could walk away, and never have to see me again. Easier for me, because I wouldn’t have to relive his disappointment every day when he came to work.

  He pressed his lips to mine, lifted me in his arms, and turned around to set me on the counter. He kissed me harder, standing between my legs and pulling me against his chest. Heart to heart. “I love you,” he whispered against my mouth. As though he’d held the words for just as long as me.

  “I love you, too,” I said again, vowing to say it a million times in the next four days. Because I had a lifetime of I love you’s I’d never get to say to him. “I love you.” A lifetime of I love you’s I’d never get to hear.

  He lifted me again, but this time he cradled me and carried me to the front door.

  “What are you doing?”

  He grabbed my bag from the register without breaking his hold, then pushed the door open with his back. He lowered me to my feet, took my keys from my bag. “I’m taking you to dinner.” He locked the door then turned around and shook his head. “No, that’s a lie.” He grinned again, stepping toward me in a way that filled my stomach with butterflies. “We’re going to pick up dinner. Then I’m going to strip you naked and take you right there in my living room. ’Cause I need you, Tuesday. I’ve needed you my whole life.”

  Chapter TWENTY-SIX

  Tuesday

  Becky was true to her word. I got the call Friday afternoon that Austin would meet me in the cafe across the street from Parker Studios. It was terrifying. Knowing I had to tell someone I barely knew that he was going to be a father. That I was pregnant with his child.

  I sat across from him now, tapping my foot under the table as I passed the paper cup back and forth in my hands. He wore dark-wash jeans, a black t-shirt, cowboy boots, and was more attractive than I remembered. His hair was blond, though I could barely tell because it was cut so short, and his eyes were blue and framed with dark lashes that would make most women jealous. The exact opposite of John. I couldn’t help wondering how our baby would turn out—if she’d have a wild mane like me or the light features like him.

  “So you wanted to talk to me?” He spoke with a Texas accent, which didn’t quite surprise me from the way he was dressed, but it made me sad nevertheless. Because I realized I didn’t know him at all. He was the father of my child, and I barely knew him. A man I would be connected to for life, yet all I kept wishing was that he was John.

  Austin took a sip of his flat white latte then leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “I feel like I need to say something.” He tilted his head to the side to crack his neck, clearly having as hard a time with the situation as I. “About the first time we met.”

  I inwardly cringed, because by met he meant slept together. If we’d just met, I wouldn’t be here right now. Pregnant with his baby, and deeply in love with another man. I shook my head. “That’s not why I’m here―”

  “Ya see,” he cut me off. “I had a modeling job that morning and woke up twenty minutes late. I tried to find you, but I couldn’t… It was only later I thought to leave a note.” He scratched the back of his head, and I actually felt bad for him. I a
lso felt relieved in a sense. He was my baby’s father, the man who would mean the most in her life, and deep down, I wanted him to be a good guy. I wanted him to be so good for her. (Or him. Whatever this baby turned out to be.)

  I nodded and forced a little smile. Even though it didn’t change our situation in the slightest, it was warming to know he’d looked for me. Because it said something about the type of person he was. And that fact eased my heart because I wanted my baby’s father to be kind. I wanted him to be everything I never had.

  My palms began to sweat under the table, and I knew it was my turn to talk. To tell him the reason why Becky had hunted him down and made him come here today. I had no idea how he’d react, but I’d prepared myself for the worst. I had brochures for DNA testing and a phone number in my purse. I was even prepared to fund the whole thing with my American Express. There was no doubt in my mind he was my baby’s father; I only needed to convince him of that.

  But in the pit of my stomach, I wasn’t sure I’d use any of it. If he didn’t want this baby, that was his choice. I was here because he deserved to know, because my baby deserved the opportunity to have a father. My mistakes were my own, and I wouldn’t let embarrassment stop me from trying to provide that for her. But I wouldn't force him to be there either.

  I didn’t need his money; I could support this baby on my own. But there was one thing I couldn’t do—and that was fill his shoes. My mother had tried. God knows, she’d tried so hard… but there’s something deep down inside that longs for a daddy. To have the thing that everyone on earth had… but me.

  He rested his hand on the table, obviously in tune with my distress as I tried to figure out what to say.

  I cleared my dry throat then took one last deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you.” I forced my eyes upward, and he leaned back in his chair. I knew a whirlwind of ideas must be going through his head. I took pity, knowing this must be terrifying, and I pushed the words out. “I’m pregnant. Eleven weeks. It’s yours, I’m sure of it.”