Page 39 of Full Out Fiend

Happy. Hopeful. Relieved.

With my face still pressed against the cool glass of the window, I close my eyes and place my hand low on my belly, imagining a blue-eyed, blond-haired toddler with a toothy grin.

I smile contently and resist the urge to pull my phone out and text Fielding right now. I have to be smart about this and trust that it will work out. It’ll all be okay. As soon as Anthony drops me off, I’ll text him. Just a few more minutes, and I’ll be free.

“Hey, Daph.”

The second I walked into The Oak and spotted Anthony, I knew I wasn’t getting out of this night without some sort of confrontation. I pull in a cleansing breath and put on my button covers, mentally preparing for what comes next.

“Why don’t I drop Andy off at home? Then maybe you and I can go somewhere and talk,” he suggests.

We’re close enough to our parents’ houses now that I feel confident standing my ground.

“I’m not interested in talking. Just drop me off at home, Anthony.”

He curses under his breath, slowing the car as we get closer to our destination. He’s gearing up to argue, and I wouldn’t put it past him to pull a stunt or posture in front of his brother. Instead of waiting for his reply, I cut him off at the pass.

“Me leaving with you tonight doesn’t change anything. I was ready to go home. You offered to drive me. I didn’t pick you—I just chose not to cause a scene.”

As a charged silence fills the car, I hold my breath, waiting to see what sort of angle he’s working today or how willing he is to fight.

He clears his throat, and his next words come out soft, almost kind. “I’ve been staying at my parents’ house, ya know.”

I exhale, grateful he’s taking a more passive approach.

“So when you’re ready to talk, I’ll be right next door.”

He pulls into the driveway and puts the car in park. I unfasten my seatbelt and quietly test my door to make sure it’s not locked. Once I’m satisfied he can’t physically keep me here, I make my proclamation.

“We had ten years to talk, Anthony. You made your choice. I made mine. I won’t be reaching out again. Good night.”

Chapter 24

Daphne

Hehasn’tansweredanyof my texts. Not the three I sent last night. Or the two I shot off between clients today. Maybe he doesn’t check his phone like most people do, but we’re not teenagers. I have no interest in playing games. His lack of response over the last eighteen hours has me questioning everything.

Part of me feels stupid. I never even considered that he might chicken out or ghost me—for as fun and carefree as he comes across, he seemed to respect the gravity of the situation last night.

But five unanswered texts?

Five texts. After a hurried and unplanned departure that neither of us was prepared for. We still have so much to discuss—so many things were left unsaid. I thought for sure he’d respond to my first text last night and call me like I asked. But maybe it was foolish to think we could pick up where we left off.

He wouldn’t block my number, would he? His friend Cole insisted he’d been trying to get a hold of me. He didn’t evenhavemy number until last night.

None of this makes sense.

I barely slept, which means I’ve been even sicker than usual today. I’m exhausted. Restless. Brimming with a mix of anxiety-induced nausea and legit morning sickness.

I tossed and turned most of the night. When I closed my eyes, all I could see were images from the videos Andy showed me. I have so many questions. But I know one thing for sure: the videos didn’t have the intended effect. If anything, they had the opposite.

I’m not scared of Fielding. Not in the least. The most vulnerable parts of me know the deepest, most intimate parts of him—that doesn’t just come undone because of a few stupid videos without context. I’m not concerned with one side of a story that happened fifteen months ago.

But I do have questions. And I deserve answers. I need to know his side and understand the full story, especially if what he said last night is true.

If he wants to be in the baby’s life—inmylife—I deserve to know who he is, and I want to hear him out. We can figure this out together. But he has to actually talk to me for that to happen.

Which is why I’m once again standing at the end of this ridiculously long driveway, punching in a key code I shouldn’t know but accidentally memorized.