Page 20

CHAPTER 20

RICHARD

I can’t fucking sleep.

I’ve been laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling for the past few hours since everyone disappeared to get sleep. Victoria sent a text where I could pick my car up an hour ago, then a few more followed cursing all of us, demanding apologies, and to be compensated for her time. We “owe her that much”, according to her.

Knowing I’ll wire her money in the morning, my thoughts shift to Miriam at the end of the hall. I never expected to have her in this space again and I’m torn between being at ease with her here, but pissed this whole situation didn’t pan out the way I had planned.

I need my structure and expectations met. A pregnant, near stranger, holed up in my cabin is so far from what I thought would happen; I’m struggling to accept it. How the hell did this happen? Shooting out of bed, I rush downstairs to the office I have here where I keep my laptop. Because of my line of work, I make a habit of meticulously scanning and saving every document I’ve ever created, plus I back up additional copies on a separate hard drive.

Scrolling through the files, I find Delgado, Miriam, and open it. I know exactly what page to go to, and right there, the box is checked yes. She said she was on birth control and even lists the name of prescription.

Vaguely, I remember her telling me she was going to nursing school, so does this mean she’d know how to screw up her dosing to cause it to fail? I glance at the spot on the ceiling I know she’s laying above.

Deciding I’d rather ask her the questions instead of assuming, I close the computer and head up. I catch Kevin sitting in the kitchen in the dark, and I should find out where his head’s at, but right now I need answers.

The door to her room is silent as I push it open, and I’m only three steps in before I catch myself from tripping over a sleeping Ezra. I jerk my head up to see Miriam’s form laid on top of her bed with her face turned toward me. Pointing at the sleeping soldier, I wordlessly ask if she wants me to get rid of him.

“Leave him. He belly crawled in here and promptly passed out once he got settled. What’s one more night?” She sounds defeated at the end, turning her head away to focus on the ceiling. Just as I was down the hall, fighting for sleep to come for me.

Stepping over him, I fight the urge to nudge him with my toe, but who knows how he’d react being startled away. Even with her speaking in the room, his breathing doesn’t change, telling me he’s deep into sleep.

I sit on the edge of her bed, bending a leg so I can face her. “I have some questions.”

“You going to be a dick about it?”

I’m too tired to react, so I shrug. “Probably, but will you give me the benefit of the doubt and not take anything personally for the duration of this conversation? If we can have one, honest to God, adult conversation between the two of us, I won’t hold any truths against you if you don’t hold my dickish personality against me.”

“Sure,” she says without hesitation, closing her eyes. “Ask away.”

“You were on birth control.”

Cracking an eye open, she waits, but I stay silent. “That’s not a question, pen—Richard.” I don’t miss the way she catches herself from throwing another insult in my direction.

“I apologize. If you were on birth control, what happened that it failed?”

Sighing loudly, she closes her eyes once more. “I’m not sure, but since I found out, I’ve been planning to speak with my obstetrician at my next appointment. Maybe it was my antibiotics, but it also could be my own stupidity.”

That means nothing to me, so I press for more information. “Would you explain that?”

Miriam sits up and crosses her legs, giving me her full attention. “I was sick prior to the cabin trip, so my doctor put me on antibiotics. It’s possible that those may have interfered with the effectiveness of my pills. I researched in my textbooks, but it said that most common antibiotics are safe for hormonal birth control medications. But I think it was because I was self-medicating with an herbal treatment. St. John’s wort. It was temporary and I think it did help for that small period of time. Turns out, I probably made the pills useless.”

All of what she says only creates more questions. I raise my eyebrow at her. “You didn’t seem sick when I met you.”

She deadpans me. “Yeah, because I took antibiotics.”

“Alright, what were you self-medicating for? Our contract requested you fill out the medical portion truthfully. If you didn’t, that’s a?—”

Holding a hand up, she stops me. “Before you start planning a lawsuit, it wasn’t anything of importance. I’d been stressed and worried I was dealing with a bought of situational depression. St. John’s wort is an over the counter, herbal treatment that I heard helps. It did. It was temporary because the situation resolved itself.”

“What was the situation?” I ask, not worried that I’m getting too personal.

The corner of her lip tilts up in a smirk. “Richard, do you really want to know?”

I consider her question, then wave her off. “I suppose it’s not important now. So, you didn’t intentionally plan on tricking one of us into eighteen years of child support?”

Her look grows dark, but she reins in her anger, which I appreciate. I did tell her I’d probably be a dick, but these questions have to be asked.

“I’m going to answer your ridiculous question with a sarcastic one of my own. Do you truly think that I, a twenty-four-year-old virgin, living on my own, working endless hours at a physically difficult job, and attending school in the evenings would think a baby would solve all my problems?”

Pursing my lips, I consider her question, then startle when she growls. “The answer would be no , pendejo .” I’ll disregard her slip to try to bait me. It is awfully early in the morning now.

“Fair. I assume this is why you called me at my office?”

“ Sí ,” she bites out, crossing her arms.

Nodding, I see where I screwed up. “Well, I’d like to apologize for that, then. I should have given you an opportunity to explain the reason for your call without interruption. I hope you can forgive me for that, but?—”

“Apologies should never come with a but .”

“Alright. Then I’ll leave it at hoping you’ll forgive me for my rudeness.”

I expected her to offer her forgiveness immediately, since I apologized sincerely, but she quietly sits, blinking every so often at me. It grows uncomfortable as I wait, eventually pushing me to pry.

“Well?”

She cocks her head curiously. “Well, what?”

I can’t help my eye roll. “Are you going to forgive me?”

Groaning, she bounces her body down the bed so she’s on her back again and rolls to bury her face into her pillow. Her words are muffled, but I doubt I’d understand them since I’m fairly positive she just insulted me multiple ways in Spanish.

“She said no.”

I turn toward Ezra as Miriam lifts her head. He’s lying on his side, bracing his head up with his hand. Who knows how long he’s been awake and listening? I’ve learned long ago to just run with the oddity of Ezra.

Facing Miriam again, I ask, “So you won’t forgive me?”

“Not today.”

Frustrated, I exhale loudly and sit up straighter. “I’m not sure what there is to consider. I explained what happened, and it was reasonable. It’s not as if I can go back and change my actions now.”

“Richard,” she groans. “It’s three in the morning. I have a headache, and you’ve been nothing but rude and condescending except for when you were too distracted by fucking me.” My nostrils flare at her reminder, but she doesn’t come back to the topic. “I don’t feel good about the things you’ve said and the disrespect you’ve shown me since the moment we’ve met. So, no, I don’t feel like forgiving you right now just because you think your apology was appropriate.”

Clenching my jaw, I fight the urge to argue against her nonsense when Ezra pipes up. “Well said, my petal! You want me to throw him out of here for you?”

“Ezra, I’d like you to throw yourself out of here. He’s capable of leaving on his own, which I’d like you both to do.”

I open my mouth to argue, but even in the darkened room, I can see the dark circles under her eyes. She looks exhausted, which must mean she’s not thinking clearly. That comforts me, not that she’s worn out, but it explains why she’s not seeing reason.

Now that we’ve talked, I do believe her that this situation we’re in wasn’t intentional, which alleviates a bit of my fears.

“Alright,” I saw, standing and straightening my clothes. “I’ll leave you to rest and we can reconvene this conversation in the morning before you head home.”

“She’s not going anywhere!” Ezra cries, scrambling to his feet and rushing toward her.

I don’t miss the way she leans away, so I put out my arm to stop him. “Enough, Ez. No more tonight.” Physically turning his body away, I push him toward the door, then over my shoulder, tell her, “There’s a lock on the inside.” Ezra chuckles, telling me it won’t keep him from entering, so I add, “Plus a deadlock toward the top, if you can reach. Goodnight, Miriam.”

A part of me wants to turn back and apologize in a different way, but that’s my dick talking. The rest of me refuses to grovel to someone who only has a twenty-five percent chance of carrying my child. Those odds are in my favor.

Just a little blip in my future plans that will be all sorted once a DNA test confirms I’m not the father. This kind of shit doesn’t happen to me.