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For her.
For Robbie.
Well, of course, she’s pregnant.
I squeeze my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose. How the hell had we been so stupid? It’s not like we used a condom. She was a virgin and we didn’t exactly have a conversation about birth control.
When did I ever sleep with a woman without protection? What the fuck is wrong with me? I hadn’t even thought about it at the time, hadn’t let my brain go there, too caught up in her, in the moment.
What did I think was going to happen exactly? That the universe was going to cut me some slack? That we were immune to consequences?
I let out a quiet, humorless laugh.
Apparently not.
I should have known better. I should have been smarter. More careful. Because now? Now, everything is different.
I rub a hand down my face, dragging my fingers along my jaw. I didn’t sleep last night. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the rain pound against the windows while my brain ran through every scenario, every outcome, every way this could go wrong.
I’m pretty sure Annie didn’t get much sleep either.
I’m barely becoming a father to Robbie at this point. I have no idea what I’m doing with him, and now I’m supposed to wrap my head around having another kid? Another baby?
What the hell does that even look like?
My gut twists at the thought, at the sheer weight of it. I’ve spent the last few months trying to figure out how to be there for Robbie, how to undo all the damage my absence caused, and I’m still not sure I’m doing it right. I don’t know if I ever will be.
And now there’s going to be another one?
Another tiny, fragile person depending on me?
I exhale sharply, pushing away from the door and pacing across the tiled floor, my bare shoes silent against the cool surface. The conservatory is filled with greenery, the scent of fresh earth and rain mingling in the air, but none of it soothes me.
Nothing about this is soothing.
I rake a hand through my hair, gripping the back of my neck, trying to get my thoughts in order. Trying to make sense of what the hell I’m supposed to do next.
I don’t regret what happened between me and Annie. Not for a second. But this? This wasn’t part of the plan.
Not that I had a plan.
Damn it.
I let out a heavy breath and drop onto one of the cushioned benches near the windows, resting my forearms on my knees. My head hangs between my shoulders, my fingers clasped together as I stare at the floor.
I keep thinking about last night. About the look on Annie’s face when she told me. The way she’d stood there, tense and stubborn, waiting for my reaction.
Waiting for me to reject her, push her away, get angry. Abandon her.
The realization made something tight coil in my chest.
I don’t blame her for thinking that.
It’s what I’ve done before, isn’t it? When things got complicated, when emotions got too real, I pulled back. Built walls. Kept my distance.
Even from my own son.
But this isn’t something I can walk away from.