Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
I don’t know what he tells her, but I do know my sister. She’s not weak like the prey he treats her. I highly doubt anything comes with a please when he tells her how it’s going down.
My mom takes me to the corner of the waiting room and whispers, “I don’t have the details from Madison. All I heard from the nurse is that she was in a car accident and can’t tell me more.”
“Fuck,” I exhale, looking toward the nurses’ station.
“I’m glad you’re home,” she says, hugging me.
Hugging her back, I ask, “Where’s Dad?”
“Santa Barbara. It will take him hours to get here.” Annoyance colors her tone.
Mat walks in and looks around. Seeing us, he heads our way. “If you tell me that fucker had anything to do with this . . .”
“Please put your energy into Maddie’s recovery.” My mom goes quiet, and then adds, “And this sweet baby she’s carrying.” Tears roll down her cheeks, and she sniffles. “I can’t handle thinking about that horrible man. He won’t leave her alone.”
“Mrs. Decker?” We turn to see a doctor standing nearby looking for my mom.
“I’m here,” she says, rushing toward him. “How is my daughter?”
Mat and I stand behind her like two bodyguards flanking her, and my gut twists with concern.
“Madison’s doing well, but we’re concerned about the baby.”
Present Day
Sitting in waiting rooms is the worst. Doesn’t matter if nothing’s wrong, the fear still creeps in, implanting the what-ifs.
I toss the magazine from 2017 back on the pile and decide pacing will serve me better.
A corner door opens, and a nurse stands there staring at a chart. When she looks up, she calls, “Mr. Devreux.”
Tatum’s got a good sense of humor this morning. I hope she can keep it after whatever news we’re given. The name doesn’t bother me. Today, it attaches me to her as more than just the guy who knocked her up. “That’s me.”
I walk toward her and follow her down the hall. I’m shown to a room to wait by myself. Before I have time to read all about the Heimlich from the poster, a knock draws my attention, and then the door opens. Tatum smiles the second she sees me and hurries into my open arms.
She says, “We’re pregnant.”
My arms don’t leave her, and I don’t look down. I stay still in the moment, closing my eyes and releasing a breath that feels long-held.
Gentle sobs rock her body as she clings to me. I can’t decipher between sadness or happiness from the sound, but I steal a second to savor those two words. I’m not sure what’s going to happen between us, but at this moment, we’re united as one.
When she releases me, she grabs a tissue from the box on the counter. Wiping under her eyes, she looks at me. “What do you think, Harrison? I need to know what you’re thinking.”
Yesterday, I had determined she needed to lead. Today, she needs me. “Have you made a decision you haven’t shared with me?” I ask cautiously.
She plops down on the hard, plastic chair and shakes her head. “I don’t think I should keep anything from you. This baby is yours as well as mine, but it’s growing inside me, so I appreciate you asking.” Her eyes find the anatomical makeup poster of a pregnant woman. Although I think parts of this scare her, I’m not sure what she’ll decide.
Getting up again, she comes to me and leans her head on my chest. “It wasn’t real yesterday. It was shock factor and reaction. I was trying my best not to believe it because what if those tests were wrong.”
I realize we all process things differently, even on different timelines. When I was freaking out last night, she was waiting to have confirmation. I’m not sure that either is right or wrong, but I know that I did a disservice to her last night. What will I do this time?
Looking up at me, she continues, “I’m going to have this baby.”
I reach out for the wall beside me, needing the support. I’m not sure what I expected, but that doesn’t seem to be it. But I can wholeheartedly attest that’s the answer I was hoping for.
It’s strange how life comes at you. It wasn’t but a few weeks ago that she hated me. I couldn’t even get Tatum to make eye contact. If she did, it was full of a rage I couldn’t extinguish. Time has given me a second chance. Life has changed for her and for me. I can only hope for the better for both of us.
I’ve stood too quiet because she asks, “What do you want to do?”
We don’t have any details worked out. There’s not one plan in place. How could there be? All of this is unexpected, but the direction of our lives has changed, and I’ll change with it. I am nothing like him. Unlike Madison, Tate will not be left to raise this baby alone. “I want this baby, Tate.”