So. Long(129)

I pull at the neckline of my dress as my throat thickens. “Well, it’s lingering a bit. But I’m fine right now. Thanks for asking.”

He traces my jaw with the pad of his finger. “I’m sorry you’ve been sick. I wish I could make it better.”

My chest tightens. I bite the corner of my lip. “I’ll be okay.”

His eyes search mine. “Do you have anything you need to talk about? Anything at all?”

I shake my head and lean away from his hand. This is not the time for telling secrets, Jack. You have no idea. “No. I’m good. Is there anything else we should discuss for the show?”

He checks his watch. “No, I don’t think so. I need to go. I’ll see you in a little while.”

“I thought you were going to tell me which traits you want to chat about.”

He gives a half-shrug as he stands. “Oh, just the basics. Nothing too controversial.”

I get to my feet as well.

He leans in and kisses my cheek. “Keep your eyes open backstage. I don’t want you to trip and get hurt. You have to take extra care in your condition.”

A hot knot of dread sinks deep into my gut as the room takes a spin around my head. I steady myself with a hand on the back of the chair at my side. “Say again? My condition?”

Jack glances at my belly, but only for a fraction of a second.

“Look, I have to get to make-up. We can talk after the show.” He pulls me into his arms, giving me a gentle squeeze as he presses a soft kiss to my temple. “I want to talk later. I think we need to talk.”

I can’t breathe. When he lets go, I grip the chair again. He leaves the room, and I lean over, getting some oxygen to my brain.

He knows. But how? What gave me away? Oh, God. What’s he going to do? What will he think? What will he say?





SIXTEEN





Mom’s right.

Ronnie’s pregnant.

My chest tightens, but I don’t know whether it’s excitement or stress.

It has to be my baby. Doesn’t it? It hasn’t been long enough for her to know she’s pregnant, if it’s Dave’s. Has it?

Fucking Dave.

No. She has to be carrying my baby.

While Bianca dabs my face with powder so I don’t wash out under the lights, I hold my phone to the side and search online. Mom said she met Ronnie in the bathroom right after Ronnie vomited.

I type into the search bar: How far along in a pregnancy does morning sickness start?

I scroll through the first few of the six-hundred and ten thousand results. All four of the ones I read say six weeks.

That would put conception at sometime the week before New Years. “Ha! I knew it.”

I grab Bianca and give her a big kiss on the cheek. “Sorry, but that’s enough for today. I have to go.”

I pull away from Bianca, snatching the little tissue tucked into my collar and tossing it in the bin. As I head out the door, energy fills me. I take a couple of punches at the air before I go for the knockout swing. My chest puffs out, and suddenly the world is a better place.

I can fix this. I have to make this right. She has to know that baby’s mine. That the baby is ours. Together.

God, please let me make this right.

I go straight for the greenroom, but Cindy catches me. “Hey, I’ve been looking for you. You’re on in two. C’mon. I’ve got Ronnie all queued up and waiting in the wings.”

My elation grows. “Good. Perfect. I’ll see her on-set then.”

With a spring in my step, I pull my note cards from my jacket pocket. Good. This is excellent. What makes a good partner? That he’s the father of your child. Check.

The studio audience claps and whistles as I take the stage. A couple of good jokes with a badum-ching at the punch lines. The house band plays a song, while I work the crowd. Finally, I take the seat at my desk.

My heart races like it hasn’t done since the first time I took the stage in front of live spectators. I tug at my collar.

“Well, here we are, folks. The week before Valentine’s Day. If you recall, I had a guest duo on not long before Christmas, one of which is a love expert who’s written this fantastic book titled Decoding the Man in Your Life.” I hold up a copy of the book. “Ms. Ronnie Fitz, whom I dubbed Love ‘Em, is a brilliant young woman, and we’re very lucky to have her with us again this evening.”

I move to the edge of the curtain. Offstage, Ronnie wrings her hands. Her hair curls wildly about her head. The red dress compliments her skin. And she’s carrying our baby. She’s fucking gorgeous.

My breath catches. I can imagine how beautiful she’ll look carrying our child. How amazing her tits will be when she’s breastfeeding.

I hold out my hand, hoping she’ll take it for more than just a trip to the chair on stage. Ronnie looks at the floor as she comes toward me.