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Cecily: All appointments rescheduled. Can I do anything for you? Is everything okay with your boyfriend?”

Me: What?

I don’t even remember talking to her about John, although he sent me flowers a few days ago, and the card was opened.

Hope my girl is feeling better-J

Cecily: You know I follow hockey. He’s in some trouble. I’ll send you the article.

Me: Okay.

Now that I think about it, I didn’t talk to John last night, and he hasn’t texted me today, which is out of character. He texts me all day intermittently whenever he has a free moment.

I love you.

Thinking about you.

Maybe we’ll make the playoffs and play the Notes.

Do you like pistachios?

Or saw a lizard, and it reminded me of the first night I protected you.

Checking my watch, I’m relieved it’s time to check the test. I’ll worry about John later. I put one foot into the bathroom and sigh, flipping through my emotions. Panic and fear winning out. Picking up the test, it shows a plus sign and from what I read, it means I’m pregnant. My body feels heavy with the weight of what’s happening hanging over me.

Again, like a good attorney, I make sure the test is correct by taking four more. All five have big, fat plus signs. I lean against the bathroom cabinet and slide to the floor with all five tests fanned out in front of me. Recognition strikes me, jarring me to the bone.

I’m having a baby.

Silent, but both terrifying and happy thoughts roll through my head, and I can’t decide whether to laugh or cry.

Then I cry. At this point, I don’t know if they’re happy tears or not. I press my hands against my abdomen with a million racing thoughts. Relief that I know why I’m sick. Fear over telling John. What if he doesn’t want a baby? Hoping he does.

My world has just changed in an instant. It has shifted toward not what’s best for me but for the tiny life growing inside me.

I pull myself from the floor and call Lettie. Why Lettie? Because this is an area where I feel like she’s an expert and has a local obstetrician. She promises to keep a secret and gives me the name of her obstetrician, after she’s finished squealing of course. It seems I should have told John first, but I want toknow for certain. Maybe I don’t want to blow up a man’s life if I bought a batch of expired tests.

Dropping Lettie’s name enables me to get in to see Dr. Sasha, just two days later, who then confirms by a blood test that I am most definitely pregnant.

Now what? I still haven’t talked to John, and my workload is heavier than ever since I rescheduled clients yesterday.

Between my nausea and the amount of research needed to be done, I’m exhausted by the time I get home. However, I do call John and leave a message. “Hey, we missed each other for a couple of days. Everything okay? I have something to tell you. Call me when you can. I know you have a game tonight. I’ll try to watch.”

Exhaustion wins. I don’t watch and I sleep like a rock until four in the morning with another trip to the bathroom. I check my phone in the darkness. There’s nothing from John—not a single text or message.

My heart drops all the way into my pregnant belly.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

John

Why did I underestimate the lengths my father would go? Sometimes I wonder if he hates me. What did I do to deserve a father who’s only thought is of himself? Most fathers would run into a burning building to save their son. Mine burns the building his son sleeps in.

Now I’m sitting in the office of Reed’s father, the league commissioner. If there’s anyone other than my teammates that I don’t want to disappoint, it’s Mr. Cross. And Becca, fuck. What’s she going to think of me?

The walls of his office seem to shrink around me as my leg bounces nervously. Mr. Cross is right outside the glass door, talking to an employee who hands him a file.

I recall my father’s words when I called him, and he demanded that I handle the situation and leave his name out of it. Yes, I’m still listening even though I’m almost positive he’s the reason I’m here. Every tick of the clock causes my throat to constrict.