Overlooked

by Lulu Pratt

  “Oh, usual David shit.” I try to sound airy about it, like it doesn’t bother me. The complete opposite is true, but there’s that saying about faking it until you make it, right? “He’s threatening me with more bad press if I don’t agree to settle outside of court.”

  “With what? Stories about how you wouldn’t suck his microscopic dick?” Lily snorts. “What an ass.”

  “I guess? He doesn’t stop though, Lily. I swear, every time I set down my phone, he sends me another message. Tells me I belong to him. Tells me he’ll ruin me. Tells me he’ll follow me if he has to.”

  “Kate.” Lily turns serious. “Report his ass. Call the cops.”

  “He’s just trying to bully me.” I shrug even though my stomach clenches. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “It’s very much a big fucking deal. Call the cops. At the very least call Vivian so she can document this shit.”

  “You’re probably right. I’ll send her screenshots.”

  We fall into silence. The worst part of all this is I feel I have no excuse. Sure, I should have reported him… but I didn’t. I should have kept him outside my apartment every time he came over… but I didn’t.

  I should have remained celibate and never fallen for his lawyer… but I didn’t.

  Tears prick at my eyes and I brush them away before they can form. I’m done with crying. I’m done with worrying over a stupid man. God help me if this baby is a boy.

  “Have you talked to Eric since you found out?”

  “No. He was very clear about never hearing from me again.” I turn the page so hard I get a paper cut. As much as it hurts, it’s almost a relief to feel pain somewhere else besides in my head and my heart.

  And my digestive tract.

  “That’s probably for the best. We don’t need him thinking he’s got something over you too.”

  “No man will have something over me ever again.”

  “They aren’t all bad.” Lily says, but backtracks. “Never mind.”

  “No, it’s okay.” I force a smile. “I know you’re really happy with the new guy. Don’t feel like you have to hide it from me.”

  “I just feel so bad.” Lily smile meekly. “You’re in such a bad place.”

  “Let me live vicariously through your joy. Remind me there is goodness out there. Remind me the Y-chromosome isn’t exclusively terrible.”

  “I can do that.”

  Silence again. It’s thick and sits uneasy against my skin. Pretending to be happy for Lily took more energy than I expected. And despite reading numerous blogs about having kids despite terrible life situations, or having kids when they didn’t want them, no one managed to make me feel better about this whole thing.

  Maybe I am still in shock, but there is no way to feel better. Everything is lose-lose, but the only person who suffers is me. David gets out of this scotch-free. He won’t even have to know while I’m making plans to change my entire life.

  “What about adoption?” Lily asks, moving next to me. “Then you don’t have to go through the life-altering changes of raising a baby.”

  “I’ve thought about it.” I say noncommittally. “Honestly, Lily, I don’t know that I go through that heartache. I wish I could just… undo it.”

  “I know.” She rests her head on my shoulder. “It’s not fair. After everything that has happened over the last year, this is the last thing that needed to happen. But we’ll get through it together. We will.”

  “Thank you.” I rest my head against hers. “I don’t think I’d make it through this without you. Truly.”

  “Chicks before dicks, Kate. Always.”

  “Maybe I should just leave the country after the divorce is done.” I say slowly. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, underneath all the freak-outs and stress. “I don’t want to be anywhere near David. No matter what I choose to do, I don’t want him involved at all, you know? Maybe I’ll go to France or Spain or something and have the baby there. No cameras, no David. The tiniest shred of privacy.”

  “Hey, that’s an idea.” Lily encourages. “You can relax by the water and take it easy. Pregnancy is already difficult. Adding extra stress from being here isn’t good for either of you.”

  “Exactly. Maybe my mom will come with me.”

  “Have you told her yet?”

  “You’re the only one who knows.” I shake my head. “Can’t bring myself to say the words.”

  “No one needs to know even if you were about to pop. We’ll find clever ways to hide you, like they do on sitcoms. Fluffy scarves, big bags, things like that.”

  “This is why you’re my best friend. You have great ideas. We’ll just get out of here and disappear into the fray. Let’s go now.”

  “Soon.” Lily promises. “Soon.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  ERIC

  A note sits on top of the files on my desk. Sophie’s stack, not Sophie’s writing.

  Ask Paxton about his girlfriend.

  I tap a pen against the desk, debating. There’s clearly something going on here. I didn’t know Paxton had a girlfriend and I have no idea why someone would want me to ask about it unless it was something important.

  A small piece of me wants it to be about Kate. In what capacity, I don’t know. If Kate is his new girlfriend, I’d kill him. I know that as certain as I know my own name. If he touches her — gone.

  I don’t think he’d do that to me, though. There are established bro codes, rules we all live by. No matter the shit he gave me about sleeping with her, he would never go behind my back to do anything with her.

  I ball up the note and throw it in the trash. If Paxton wants to tell me about his new girlfriend, he can come tell me about his new fucking girlfriend. I have work to do.

  Inside the first file is another note: No seriously. Go ask him.

  Goddammit.

  There’s a similar note in the front of each of the files. It’s not Paxton’s handwriting, either. No way would that asshole write these. We’re an office of fifty attorneys, covering every type of law. It could have been anyone.

  “All right.” I find myself in Paxton’s office, curiosity driving me more than anything. “Tell me about your new girlfriend.”

  “What are you talking about?” He doesn’t look up from his sea of paperwork. Criminal law has always turned me off for this very reason. Too much work.

  “I’m supposed to ask you about your new girlfriend. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

  “You never asked.”

  “Am I supposed to?”

  “We talked a lot about the ass you were pounding over the last few weeks.”

  “Touché.” I drop into a chair in front of him. “Who’s the unlucky lady?”

  Paxton keeps typing away and doesn’t look at me. I’m not sure what the fuck is going on, but I don’t like it. Ever since we saw David’s interview in the bar, he’s acted weird. His obsession with my case was abnormal to begin with, but now it’s downright unsettling.

  “Who is she?”

  “Her name is Lily.”

  Alarms shoot off in my brain. Kate’s best friend, whom she talked about a lot, is a Lily. Her partner in all her charity work. How common could that name be?

  “What does she do?”

  “Me.”

  “Funny.”

  He closes his laptop and crosses his hands over top of it. This whole exchange is uncomfortable as fuck. I cross my arms to join in his powerplay bullshit.

  “What do you want, Eric?”

  “I want to know why someone told me I should talk to you about your new girlfriend.”

  “I don’t have that answer.”

  “She’s Kate’s friend, isn’t she?” He doesn’t say anything, which is answer enough for me. “The fuck, man? Why didn’t you say shit?”

  “Because it doesn’t matter. You aren’t working with Lily’s ex.”

  “No, just her best friend. Which means Lily knows everything. Which means you probably
know everything.”

  “You may have come up.”

  “Is that why you were pushing me so hard to go after her? I thought Lily was her best friend. What the hell, Pax? Is Lily trying to ruin her, too? What the fuck kind of games are you playing?”

  “No games, man. This is your fucking job. Your job is to represent that slime bag. You can also get seriously fucked by screwing around with his wife — his wife, bro, because they are still legally married — and you’re already on thin ice with the state for doing this shit before.”

  “You help me stage photos of innocent women. Now you get to play moral high ground?”

  “I told you to stop fucking around with her.”

  “You told me to smear our fake ass pictures all over the city. You don’t get to pretend you’re better than me.”

  “I just wanted you to do your job.” Paxton is frustrated and I don’t understand why. “I knew you wouldn’t actually send them out. I know you gave a shit about this girl. But you were going to fuck over the entire firm if you fucked over David in this case.”

  “That’s what this is about?” I stare at him, struggling to rectify the man I know versus the man talking. “You think I’m going to fuck over the firm, so you push me to do some dumb shit with the woman I was crazy about?”

  “I knew you had a thing for her.”

  “This is not the time to gloat, asshole. What do you know?” I narrow my eyes at him. “What have you been hiding from me? We are supposed to be boys, brothers.”

  “David would sue the fuck out of us if he found out you were fucking his wife. And he would have a decent case against us. It was self-preservation.”

  “You’re a real piece of shit, know that?”

  “I think you should go.” Paxton opens his laptop and shuffles around some papers. “I’ve got trial in the morning.”

  “I don’t give a shit.” I slam the lid of his laptop closed. “Paxton. Please. How is she?”

  Paxton exhales slowly and checks his watch. He’s at war with himself for reasons I still can’t fucking comprehend. All I can think is she’s dying and panic starts to set in.

  “David’s been harassing the fuck out of her. Threats, showing up at her place drunk, texting her at odd hours. A few weeks ago, he went over to her place and asked to talk over a drink. She went to get dressed to go out and came back to find him naked. She lost her shit over it, said she’d call the cops.”

  David’s story. I knew it was bullshit. I knew it. I was so tied up with shit I didn’t give her enough credit. Christ.

  “David showed me pictures of them fucking from that night.”

  “That’s disturbing as hell. But different night. She slept with him once before mediation started, some sort of drunken-moment-of-weakness fuck, and he went nuts. I guess he was pissed she wouldn’t fuck him anymore. And then you put him on TV to tell some dumbass story about her wanting his nuts to get money.”

  “You fucking told me—”

  “I didn’t think you’d do shit. You were so up her ass, I thought you were a better goddamn person than that. I figured you’d just toss around some bullshit, a few harmless pictures she could easily deflect. I took plenty of shots that looked friendly if you ever fucking looked at them. Enough to protect the firm and her. But you were too goddamn busy thinking with your dick that you made a mess of all of it.”

  I’m so shocked I don’t think I could come up with a comeback if I he paid me.

  “Whatever. She’ll move on, you’ll find another bar whore to bang, and all this mess will end. Kate’s too good for your ass, anyway.”

  “Did she really like me?”

  “I am not getting involved in your stupid shit. Absolutely not.” Paxton reopen his laptop. “Bro, we can talk this shit out later, but I’ve really got court in the morning.”

  “I’m not a monster, you know.” I find myself saying as I stand. “You could have fucking talked to me.”

  “Aren’t you, though?” Paxton asks, staring me down. “Look at what you’ve done so far.”

  Try as I might, I can’t come up with something to prove him wrong. So I leave.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  KATE

  Doctors’ offices are a special place of hell on any normal day, but my first OB appointment feels bigger and more awful. The office is bright and cheery, with home-improvement TV playing in the background and big bright peonies on all the flat surfaces. Bright, cheery and terrible.

  Women with huge, bulging bellies surround us on all sides and half a dozen strollers fill all the walking spaces.

  I’m hiding in a big hat, a scarf and dark sunglasses. As incognito as I can get in the summer heat. I can feel everyone watching me as I pass through, trying to figure out which LA body I fit.

  Thank God I’m not an actress. This would be so much worse. Everyone memorizes their frames so they can easily identify them in the streets.

  “This way.” The girl at the front desk motions me to follow her after she sees my license. “Private waiting room is back here.”

  Best news I’ve heard all day.

  “We’ll show you the private entrance when you leave so you can use it for the rest of your visits.” She smiles brightly and has a swishy ponytail. Everything about her is so cheery and bright, like babies are the best thing in her world. “Congratulations!”

  “Thank you.” I say awkwardly. Lily tried to say it to me once and I cried. No tears so far, so I call it a step in the right direction.

  The private waiting room is thankfully empty. The chairs are nicer, the magazines are more expensive and there are no TVs. Even if it was all home-improvement shows, TV makes me shudder after David’s stupid interview played on loop.

  Him and all his lies. Eric had to be behind it. The timing was too close for me to think anything else.

  “This is kind of exciting.” Lily whispers, even though we are alone. “Private waiting room, babies, you know. All that stuff. I never knew how all this worked.”

  “I wish I didn’t have to.”

  Her face immediately clams up. “Shit. I’m sorry, Kate. This has to be really uncomfortable and I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No, no. It’s okay.” I reassure her without really feeling like it. “I didn’t mean to make you think… it’s just weird, you know? I don’t feel like this is really happening. Until now, I could pretend that maybe I just had a stomach virus. None of it was real. After this… it’s real.”

  Lily takes my hand and squeezes it. I’m so freaking grateful for her I could cry. But I’m tired of crying, so I gently smack my cheek instead.

  “I need to stop.”

  “Kate?” A scrubs-clad woman in another bouncy ponytail opens the door and smiles. “Ready to see baby?”

  Tears press against my eyeballs and my heart flits like a caged bird, but I take a deep breath and nod. Lily slips her hand in mine and I don’t let go as we pass through the bright yellow halls covered in pamphlets about babies and vaginas.

  It reminds me of my regular gynecologist, whom I absolutely could not be seen at without the paparazzi swarming. Maybe I can just pretend I am going in for a yearly check-up, not to see the thing swimming in my belly.

  “Here we are!” She chirps and ushers us into a room with a giant machine and a screen. “I’m Rayanne, the ultrasound technician. We’re going to start with taking a look at baby, so Dr. Reynolds can review them before seeing you. Since you’re a little further along than normal for the first appointment, we won’t have to use the vaginal ultrasound. How wonderful!”

  I stare blankly at her, all her words foreign. I give a small nod. She hands me a dressing gown to cover the lower half of my body and gives me a squeeze on the shoulder when I’m told to lie down on the table.

  Apparently, everyone can smell my fear.

  “Remember that time we were in college and Brad Heinz paid us fifty bucks to make out at his party?” Lily asks brightly while Rayanne gets the machine up and running. “I would h
ave made out with you for five. Just thought you should know that.”

  “Thanks.” I laugh a little. It sounds high-pitched and insane. “I would have done it for free.”

  “God, such a one-upper.”

  “You know me.”

  “Breathe, Kate. You’ll be okay. Like when we made out the first time. It feels scary at first, but then it turns out to be just fine. This will be just fine.”

  “I hope so.” I whisper.

  Rayanne exposes my belly and talks a mile a minute about her nephews and some birthday party they just had. Like this was all totally normal and I wasn’t about to have my life turn on its head.

  I don’t do anything but lay there while she manipulates my body.

  “Okay. This might be a little cold.” She grins at me and points to the screen next to me. “You’ll see everything there. One, two…”

  I jump as she coats my belly with something cold and then shoves the ultrasound wand against it. Instantly, the screen goes from all black to static, like it lost the signal. Rayanne moves the stick around, talking to herself

  “I think I am going to need the vaginal wand,” Rayanne says, furrowing her brow.

  Lily squeezes me extra harder for reassurance, but all I can think is maybe I’m not pregnant after all.

  “Phew, there he is,” Rayanne says, sounding either concerned or shocked. I’m not sure which is better. “How far along did you say you were?”

  “Based on my last period, should be about nine weeks?” I shrug a little. “This is all sort of new to me, I’m sorry. Did I get it wrong?”

  “Well.” Rayanne frowns and starts plucking around the ultrasound machine’s keyboard. On the screen, it looks like she’s measuring it. Numbers populate around the lines. “Baby does not look nine weeks along. He’s measuring closer to five.”

  “Five?” I whisper. My heart pounds in my ears and I suddenly feel so, so cold. “That can’t be right according to the parenting magazines. I haven’t had a period in over two months.”

  “Skipped periods are pretty common if you are undergoing a lot of stress. Which, if the news is right, you have been.” Rayanne offers a sad smile. “Stress can shut it down for a month if it wants, and kick back up the following. Developmentally, your little peanut is not nine weeks.”