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In a smarmy tone, he murmured, “Maybe you should go home, Robert. I know how fragile your headspace has been lately.”
I growled into his face, “You think I care that she’s your ex? I don’t give a fuck if she’s got a sign that says ‘harass me.’ Step away from the lady.”
Jeremy barked out a laugh, but there was nothing friendly about it. “The lady?” He looked back at Delia, whose eyes were wide in horror, then back at me and hissed, “This isn’t a lady, Robert, trust me.”
Before I could even register what I was doing, I felt my knuckles make contact with his face, crushing the bone underneath them. I felt my vision go black and heat rise into my face.
I came out of it breathing heavily above him. Blood gushed from his nose and mouth. Delia was sobbing softly behind thecounter, gesturing wildly to a bouncer that was already making his way over.
Jeremy rose to his feet and spat, and blood trailed down the front of his shirt as a bouncer approached us.
Delia gestured for him to take Jeremy, and I saw confusion pass the bouncer’s face. Jeremy was the one covered in blood. It didn’t seem fair. Guilt stabbed me yet again, even as Jeremy hissed, “Don’t pretend this is about chivalry. You’re pissed because it’sher.”
I froze. The words hung between us.
The bouncer stepped forward, and Jeremy held up his hand to signify he was leaving. Before he did, he tilted his head, his expression suddenly sharper.
“You like her, don’t you?” he continued, almost amused, smiling a smile that showed teeth outlined in red. “I get it, Robert. She’s beautiful, kind, smart. But you might be a little too late, bud, because she’s pregnant.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I watched Jeremy walk away, his form blurry like I was waking up from a dream. Everything in me stilled. The noise of the bar seemed to fade into the background. My breath caught, my thoughts racing.
Pregnant. Pregnant?
I glanced at Delia, whose face had gone pale, her eyes wide with panic. She looked like she wanted to disappear.
thirty-five
Delia
“You’re pregnant?” Robert repeated softly, like he was trying to make sense of the word.
I felt frozen in place, my feet glued to the bar floor.
Around us, people stared, their murmurs like static in the background of a moment that felt far too loud and far too quiet at the same time.
I forced myself to nod, my throat dry. “Yes,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
His gaze didn’t move from mine, though the intensity of it made me want to look away. “Is it…?”
“It’s yours,” I confirmed, the words trembling as they left my mouth. My voice cracked, and I had to swallow hard to keep from losing what little composure I had left.
For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Robert just stared at me, his disarming green eyes unreadable. He wasn’t angry—not exactly—but he looked like someone had pulled the ground out from under him.
A tiny, fragile part of me wanted him to say something—anything—but at the same time, I dreaded whatever might come out of his mouth. I didn’t know how long we stood there, but finally, he spoke.
“Let’s get out of here,” Robert said abruptly, his deep voice steady as he leaned over the bar and reached for my hand.
I blinked, his words breaking through the haze that had surrounded me.
I glanced around at the bar littered with glasses and the small crowd that still hadn’t gone back to their conversations. “I… I still have a shift to finish,” I stammered.
Robert frowned, his brow furrowing like I’d said something absurd. “Close it down early.”
“Robert, I can’t just leave,” I said, exasperated. “This is my job. Management would lose it if I closed early. We make most of our money at night.”
“You’re not staying here,” he said, his voice like stone. He stood abruptly, towering over me. “How much would it cost to close the place down right now?”
“What?” I sputtered, staring up at him as if he’d lost his mind.