I have to figure out my plan so when I do see him, I have answers. Do I want to do this completely on my own? My parents and brother live in Florida (where I will stay far away from), Presley lives here in Tennessee, and the baby’s father . . . I have no one in Media other than the people who work for me. Having a baby is hard enough for married couples, but being a single mom with no support system—it will be damn near impossible.
One freaking fantastic night has completely changed my life.
“Angie?” Presley says, pulling my attention away from staring out the window.
“What?”
“I asked if you wanted to go out tonight with Grace and Emily? They’d love to see you.”
I sigh as I realize I can’t go out drinking. “I don’t know. I’m really out of it. And really tired.” I’m tired all the time now.
Presley looks at me with confusion clear on her face. “Umm . . . I’ve known you a long ass time and you’ve never been one to pass on a night on the town. Are you still sick? You look okay.”
The urge to blurt it out claws its way up. Tears start to form as I look out the window to avoid her gaze. Everything is going to change. I’m so beyond screwed. “No. I mean, I’m okay. I’ll be fine. I would rather stay home. Maybe tomorrow?” Admitting this tidbit of news is going to change the entire conversation. Presley is a fantastic mother, and I know she’ll see this as something great.
Not that I don’t love kids, but I never really saw myself as a mom. I’m content with my trendy apartment in downtown Philadelphia, the bakery, and my shitty dating life. It’s all that makes me—me.
It hits me then. No one is going to want to date me now.
I’m going to be the single mother that people pity.
I’m going to be alone.
My hand covers my mouth as a tear falls.
“Angie.” Presley puts the car in park at the end of her dirt driveway. “Angie, look at me.”
I shake my head. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”
“What did the doctor say?”
Her voice is so full of love and compassion. There’s something deep inside me that has a feeling she knows.
I clutch my stomach as I turn to look at her. “I’m pregnant. I’m—”
“Holy shit! You’re pregnant?” Presley’s hands fly to her mouth.
“Apparently.”
I can only imagine the shit rolling around in her head. My chest starts to heave as I think about this absolute mess. I’ve been in some shit before, but this is a whole new level. I’m going to have something that needs me to survive. There’s no way I’ll be able to handle this. I can barely handle my own life let alone another living thing. “Oh my God! I can’t do this!”
Presley pulls me into her arms as I cry. “It’s going to be okay.”
“No.” I pull back. “It’s not. I can’t have a baby! I can’t even take care of a plant. I’m alone up there. How am I going to do this?”
“You can do it because you’re strong and loving. How far along are you?”
My eyes lift to hers, and I almost choke on my next words. “I’m two months.”
“That means . . .” I see the wheels turning as she calculates. “Oh! Oh my God! You were here two months ago! For when Zach proposed!”
“Yup.” My voice is full of despair.
“Wyatt?”
“Yes. Fucking Wyatt. Why am I so stupid? Why, out of all the goddamn people in the world, does it have to be him? The guy who spent his entire life pining away over you. The damn man who left me in the middle of the night so I could see my way out of his bed? I mean, couldn’t it have been some guy in Philly so my entire life didn’t implode?”
Her smile brightens, and her eyes shine with tenderness. “I know you’re freaking out. I don’t blame you, but you’re going to be okay. You’ll see, this’ll be fine. Y’all are going to have a baby! And maybe there’s a reason he left you that night . . . which by the way, you never told me about.”
That’s what she focuses on?
“How? How is this going to be okay?”
“It’s not part of your plan, I’ll give you that. But Wyatt will be a great dad.”
I shake my head. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do. Maybe I won’t tell him. Maybe I won’t keep it or even have it.”
She knows me well enough that she doesn’t respond. I may not be happy about this, but I know that I’m keeping it. Presley knows that, too. It’s just so much. Too many things to think about. Telling Presley was the easy part—it’s going to be telling Wyatt that will be difficult. He has a right to know, but it’s the last thing I want to say to him. With that will come a barrage of questions and issues. Things I haven’t even figured out myself.