Page 7 of Maybe, Probably (Love Me, Maybe #1)

Chapter Five

Harper

I t’s been a couple weeks since the whole cheating debacle happened.

After Dalton left, I texted Evie the cliffnotes of what went down.

She called immediately to check-in and see if I was okay.

We talked on the phone for hours, which ended with Evie falling asleep on me at around two in the morning.

Whenever Evie is just about to drift off into a heavy sleep, she lets out this weird moaning noise.

Once that happens, she is dead to the world, and there is no waking her up.

Trust me, I’ve tried many times. She came over the next morning and has been making a point to come over in the evenings.

Most nights, we eat and play board games to pass the time.

I know she’s doing this intentionally. She wants to make sure I don’t turn inside myself and become a recluse. Which, honestly sounds tempting, but my last minute decision to adopt a dog in the throes of a new break-up worked in my favor.

Winnie forces me to be present. I wake early during the week to make sure he’s able to have his walk, and I carve time at the end of the day for another trek.

On the weekend, we go for a hike at some of the nearby trails.

I want to let him off leash when we do these hikes, so I’ve been slowly training him in the yard.

I think he’s ready, and I’ve been mentally planning our first off-leash excursion this weekend.

The only time I've allowed myself to cry was the day Dalton took the remainder of his things. I took a hot shower and let the tears flow down with the warm spray of the water. I don’t know who that man is anymore, and I think that’s what hurts the most of all.

He wasn’t always like this. As soon as he started at his firm, he began to change.

I could see the stress starting to consume him as he tried to impress the partners, and work his way up there.

I did what I could to try and help him de-stress at home, but he just brushed it off, claiming he was fine.

As it turns out, he may have been fine, but we weren’t.

In the kitchen, I’m staring into my fridge, debating on whether to cook or order delivery.

I’m craving pad thai, and it’s been awhile since I had some.

Collecting the take out menus from the side of my fridge, I find the restaurant and begin perusing appetizers when I hear Winnie race to the front door.

Seconds later, I hear the front door open, then close.

Winnie comes barging in the room with excitement and alerts me of our guest arriving.

Not like I couldn’t hear her. Even if the dog didn’t bark, Evie is so loud when she comes into the house.

Without even looking, I can tell you her jacket is thrown on the bench, her keys tossed into my key bowl.

And there she is, coming into my view like the queen she is.

“My saviour. I was just about to order something.” I meet her at the table and begin to unpack the bag, realizing that she hit up the exact place I was about to order. “You really are my best friend. This is exactly what I was craving.”

Evie gives me a small smile. “Well duh, I’m your person.

Of course I know what you want.” She heads to the kitchen to get drinks and comes back quickly.

We eat, and I groan in response to my first couple bites of pad thai.

I’m halfway through my food when I realize that Evie has barely touched hers.

“Evie, what is it?”

She snaps out of whatever turmoil was going on in her mind and smiles. Maybe someone else would buy that smile and think she’s okay. But I know better.

“Evie Rose Parker, I know your bullshit happy smile.” I point my fork toward her face. “Tell me what’s going on right now.”

The fake smile instantly drops, and she grimaces. “Okay…I may have come here with an ulterior mo tive of sorts.”

I raise my eyebrow at her and give her a go on motion with my hands.

“So…” She clears her throat, “I found out something. Something that is big. I mean I think it’s big? I think it is. It definitely changes a lot. Or I think it would…”

“Evie,” I huff. “Just rip the bandaid off already, jeez.” But the more she rambles, the more my anxiety starts to climb. I hate beating around the bush when it comes to information. I grab my drink as I wait. “Dalton got Chloe pregnant.”

My shock makes me spit my drink across the table, covering all of our food. After I cough a couple times, I take my hand and wipe it across my mouth.

“I’m sorry, I must be having a fever dream.I thought I heard you say Chloe. Dalton’s Chloe. The girl he cheated on me with… is pregnant.”

“Correct.”

“With Dalton’s child? Dalton? You’re sure?”

Evie winces. “Well, I mean, yes? At least, that’s what it looks like.”

We sit in silence while I process this new information. This has to be some sick sort of joke, right? Turning, I look my best friend in the eyes. They’re full of concern as she takes in my reaction.

“How did you find out?” I’m not sure if I want to know the answer, but I can’t help myself.

“You know when you first found out that Dalton cheated with her and you told me? Well, one of the nights I stalked her socials. I didn’t follow her or anything, but you know how the algorithm works.

Ever since, sometimes her stuff shows up on my feed.

” She takes a quick drink before continuing.

“I was on break at work, and I was doom scrolling before I finished the last stint. And there it was, right there on my news feed. Chloe got professional announcement photos of their bun in the oven, ” she emphasizes with finger quotes.

Evie pushes from the chair, heading toward the couch to get more comfortable with me a few steps behind.

“Show me.” I demand as I grab a throw blanket and toss it over myself, before grabbing a pillow and position it over my stomach. It’s a habit that I do when I’m not feeling completely secure .

Evie grabs her phone and searches up the post. She pauses, placing her phone screen down on her chest. “Are you sure you want to see this?”

“Yes, now let me see!” I say, as my hands open and close in rapid movements. They’re grabby hands to the max. Sighing, she hands it over, and my eyes lock on the page.

My stomach drops.

I thought I knew what I was going to see, but I wasn’t prepared for the jab in my chest. Seeing it is surreal. Painful.

They stand together, in a kitchen that I fantasize about.

The cupboards are stark white, with black matte handles. An industrial steel hood range is in the background above the gas stove. My gaze drifts to the people in the photo.

Dalton is standing behind Chloe, with his arms wrapped around her midsection.

He’s looking down at her with a look of adoration on his face.

Chloe’s golden locks are perfectly done in a fishtail braid, swooped off over one shoulder.

An apron is on her, the tie pulling in her slim, hourglass figure.

There’s flour all over her, and Dalton’s hands form a heart over her abdomen. Her belly.

The one growing a child.

They’re having a baby together.

I’m suddenly numb by the loss of something I thought would be mine.

Dalton and I had talked about having kids together, but we put it on hold while he was getting situated at work.

I didn’t mind waiting as I just started up my private editing service and was working to get my name out in the book community.

I close my eyes to reign in my emotions before I take another look.

Baby Stanford arriving spring 2025!

“Hold on,” I abruptly say.

“Hold. The. Fuck. On.” I quickly toss Evie back her phone and grab my own. Opening my calendar, I begin doing math. We’re just at the beginning of November, which means Chloe is approximately four months…

This mother fucker got her pregnant in the summer . Which means he knew. He knew she was pregnant for at least the last two months.

“What is it?” Evie asks, “you just got pale there, like someone told you that Santa isn’t real. Or that you were adopted…”

“Did you look at the due date?” I ask her.

“Well, no. I saw that it was 2025 and just assumed it was the summer.” She pauses to unlock her phone. I see her doing the mental math, too. “That piece of shit. He got her pregnant while he was still with you!”

“Yuuup,” is all I can say as I sit there, staring. I’m not fully focusing on the details.

I look up Chloe’s profile. Scrolling through her pictures, from the first glance of her profile, it’s clear she’s someone who posts on social media all the time.

I don’t know what comes over me but I end up looking at every single one of her posts. The perfect candid shots, her perfect blonde hair, and her perfect body.

There’s one of her laying on a boat, soaking in the sun in her tiny little two piece bathing suit.

It is a moment I wouldn’t be caught dead in because it would make me look like a beached whale.

Scrolling back to the top of her page, I find myself analyzing their pregnancy announcement again.

They both seem overjoyed announcing they’re starting a family.

Dalton looks down at Chloe so tenderly as she smiles up to him in pure bliss.

For a brief moment, I imagine myself in Chloe's position. We had talked about kids over the last two years. Dalton always said it wasn’t the right time, and now I’m questioning the entire thing.

Apparently, it wasn’t timing that was off. It was me who wasn’t right.

Insecurities appear in my mind. They begin prickling up my body, pinpointing every part of my body that I love to hate. Without being aware, I’m covering my stomach with the pillow even more as I continue to look through her feed.