Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
I can’t wait to get my mouth on you.
I’m gonna make you come so hard.
I could swallow you whole.
I can’t get enough.
I need to get inside you.
Keep talking, cupcake. Tell me every filthy little thing.
And I had. I’d said things to him that made me blush when I thought about them later. Things I’d never said to anyone. Things I’d never even thought about anyone.
But I wasn’t sorry. And I must have gotten myself off to the memory of us tangled up in the sheets in his hotel room a dozen times since that night. It had been the most intense pleasure I’d ever known. Sometimes I looked up Joe’s photos online and had to pinch myself that I’d actually spent those hours with him. It almost seemed like a dream.
But those two pink lines were real.
I stared at the stick on my bathroom counter for a full minute, then looked at my reflection in the mirror. I looked utterly bewildered. White as a ghost. My blue eyes—inherited from the mother I’d lost when I was too small to have memories of her—were full of fear. I wanted children, yes . . . but not now. Not like this. Not when I wasn’t even in touch with the father, let alone not married to him.
I wasn’t even dating him! Could I call us friends? I didn’t even have his phone number. What on earth was I going to do, slide into his DMs and be like, Hey, Joe, remember me? That woman who had a panic attack next to you on the plane and told you all the things she wanted to do before she died, like get married, have kids, and enjoy a one-night stand with a hot stranger? Turns out we might have crossed more than one thing off the list the next night.
Tears filled my eyes. He was going to be upset. He was going to regret what we’d done. He was going to feel obligated to make offers out of pity—of money, of support, of apology. He didn’t want a baby right now any more than I did. Maybe he never wanted one. Maybe this would ruin his life. Even if he never said those words to me, he might think them.
It was more than I could bear.
I took off my glasses, dropped my face into my hands, and wept.
“Oh, honey. Are you sure?” Ari looked at me from the rocking chair where she was nursing her baby, a little boy they’d named Truman. Dash had taken Wren to the park.
“I’m sure.” Lying on the rug in the baby’s room, I wiped the tears from beneath my eyes. “I took three home tests, and I saw my doctor.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“You’ve known for a week and you didn’t tell me?”
“I’m sorry.” I reached over and put a hand on top of her foot. “I just didn’t want to take anything away from this happy time in your life.”
“Oh, Mabel.” Ari’s eyes filled, too. “Is it Joe Lupo’s?”
I nodded, my throat tight. “Yes.”
“You didn’t use protection?”
“We did. A condom must have broken. If we learned anything from Friends, it was that condoms are only ninety-seven percent effective.”
She laughed ruefully and shook her head. “Congratulations, you’re in the top three percent. So how are you feeling?”
“Okay. At first, I was just dizzy and tired, but now the morning sickness has kicked in—although mine is worse in the evening.”
“Yeah, it’s different for everyone. But none of it’s a party.”
I sat up. “The physical stuff isn’t even the worst of it. Not for me, anyway.”
“God, Mabel. I feel responsible,” she said, shifting Truman over her shoulder to burp him.
“What? Why?”
“Because I was egging you on, telling you to go be wild and reckless.” She patted the baby’s plump little back. “I just never imagined this could happen.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said firmly. “It’s not anyone’s fault. Listen, I’ve spent my entire adult life studying the history of humanity, and believe me when I tell you that things rarely go as planned. Volcanoes erupt and bury entire civilizations. Fires break out and burn down entire cities. Unsinkable ships lie at the bottom of the ocean.” I inhaled and exhaled. “But life goes on. And a baby isn’t a tragedy.”
“What are you going to do?”
I lay back again and stared at the soft blue color on the ceiling. “I’m going to keep it.”
“You are?”
“Yes.” I placed both hands over my stomach. “I’ve considered all my options. I’ve spoken with my therapist. I’ve meditated and prayed and asked the universe for direction. I’ve thought long and hard about my life—past, present, and future. And I’ve made my decision.”
“Mabel, this is so much.”
“I know.” I looked over at the airplane-and-cloud mobile hanging above the crib. “But I’ve always wanted kids. I want a family. This isn’t exactly how I planned to start one, but it’s the way it worked out. I’ll be a single mom, at least for a while, just like my dad was a single dad. And Austin was a single dad.”