Page 5

HOLT

What. The. Fuck.

What. The. Fuck.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

My vision tunnels. Flames of nausea eat away at my stomach. My brain liquifies to jelly. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

Fortunately, Ella scrambles in front of me, blocking the camera with her hand. “We need to take a break. Now.”

I’m too stunned to even move. It’s like I’m glued to the chair. Somehow Ridge gets me up and pushes me across the yard and into the house. Breaking free of his grasp, I race down the hallway and into the bathroom. I slam the door and grip the countertop, forcing myself to take some deep breaths.

I’ve never had a full-blown panic attack before.

Not before my multiple college National Championship games.

Not before my multiple Super Bowl appearances.

Not when I jumped off the cliff to catch Anna.

Not when I got arrested.

Not even when I was sitting in the damn jail cell.

But now? I feel like I’m dying. Like someone is squeezing my heart, just counting down the seconds until it implodes. My throat is swollen, and I can’t even swallow. I toss my suit jacket on the floor and yank off my tie. I can’t even undo the neck buttons of my shirt because my fingers are shaking so badly. Eventually, I just rip the small-ass buttons off. I’m too desperate for air to be patient. I splash cold water on my face and stare in the mirror.

It’s a face I don’t even recognize anymore. If I were at my own house, I would smash my fist into the glass just to hide myself.

Gone is the man I thought I was. Before Christmas, I was a decent guy. At least, that’s what I told myself. I worked hard. I built a life. I loved my job. I loved my family. And most importantly, I loved Merit.

I was going to make her my wife. I was going to spend every day of my life making love to her. I was going to give her a son. Give us a son. A son who would one day be a sod farmer, keeping her family’s business in the family.

Now look at me.

I’m a total pussy. A complete and total pussy.

I let my punk-ass attorney plant some ill-fitted, cockamamie theory in my head, and I tossed my woman out like she was nothing but some worthless piece of trash. It took what? Ten minutes from the time the idea hit my brain for me to run with it as the truth? Maybe less than that. I did the exact same thing to her that the entire world was doing to me—I rushed to judgment.

And I didn’t lift one single finger to fight for her. Why? Because I was blinded by the thought that she betrayed me. Blinded by the thought that she just wanted my money—like every other woman before her. Blinded by the thought that she tricked me into loving her.

I didn’t lift a finger when Dad told me someone spray-painted dicks all over the sidewalk in front of her store.

I didn’t lift a finger when Raylee told me the windows had been broken.

I didn’t lift a finger when Crutch told me she refused to have any further police presence.

I didn’t lift a finger when Ridge noticed everything being moved out.

And I didn’t lift a finger when Ella brought me a huge stack of cash and a pile of Delaney’s phone records.

And after that? I was embarrassed. I was scared. And I’ve been scared every second since.

The old me would have gone to her then, right that very minute. Fallen to my knees and begged for forgiveness. Begged her to help me fight Delaney and punish her for nearly ruining our lives, nearly demolishing our perfect life together. The old me would have pulled out the engagement ring that matched her antique diamond and ruby bracelet. I would have slid it on her finger and pulled her into my arms. And together, we would’ve watched her favorite movie. The movie that we never got the chance to watch because the police showed up and arrested me.

But that was the old me.

This me?

This me is a scared little pussy, and I never did any of those things because I’ve been so terrified at the possibility that she’ll never forgive me. The thought of not having Merit by my side is so devasting that I’ve been forcing myself to live in limbo for months on end because at least in limbo, I have hope. Hope that she’ll forgive me and come rushing back into my arms.

Because even though I refuse to accept any other future besides one in which we are man and wife, that doesn’t mean it will actually happen that way .

Fuck knows a future like that isn’t one I deserve. So why would the Heavens grant it to me…

I’ve been terrified to face reality this whole time. And the reality is that she most likely will slam the door in my face and walk away without ever looking back.

And if she walks away, is she taking our child with her?

Is she really pregnant?

With our baby? With our son or daughter?

Did I shut Merit and our baby out of my life?

Did those ten minutes in January ruin our family before it even began.

I’m not sure how long I stay in the bathroom, but eventually there’s a soft knock at the door. “You need to come out, man,” Crutch says. “Lulu needs to talk to you.”

Crutch and Ella. Ry and Lulu—the names only the two of them call each other.

I grasp onto one small glimmer of hope, barely shining in the distance, like a small piece of fool’s gold on a mountain. If they can make it after the shit they went through, there has to be a chance for me and Merit.

I leave the bathroom and find everyone in the kitchen, standing around the island. Ridge lifts an eyebrow, taking in my disheveled appearance.

“It’s true.” Ella’s words are simple and finite. I ask her to repeat them. “It’s true. She’s pregnant. The paparazzi finally decided to head south to her parents’ house after months of not seeing her here. With you.” She pins me with a glare, making me feel even shittier. “They have pictures. If they aren’t plastered all over the Internet by now, they will be shortly.”

I drag my hands through my hair. “I can’t believe this is happening. What the fuck have I done?”

There’s a tap on the kitchen doorframe. “Excuse me?” Alaina takes a cautionary step into the kitchen. Chloe peeks out from behind her shoulder.

“They have pictures, Chloe?” I ask.

Thinning her lips, she nods. “I talked to some of my old colleagues earlier today.” She frowns. “I’m sorry, Holt. I thought you knew.”

I turn to Alaina. “Please, you can’t put this on air. I’m begging you.”

Alaina’s eyes widen. “Holt...”

“Please!”

“But it’s the truth. There isn’t anything false in what I’m saying or in the questions I’m asking. Merit is pregnant.” Her face softens. “I really am sorry. We all assumed you knew.”

I sit on the barstool and drop my face in my hands. “Please don’t. Don’t mention her pregnancy. If you say something, she’ll think I knew. She’ll think I gave you permission to talk about it. Merit’s a very private person. She’d be devastated.” Lifting my head, I pray she can see the sincerity in my eyes. “I screwed up. Bad. I have to get her back in my life. I love her. I love her with every fiber of my being, and if you ask me about her pregnancy in this interview… it’ll be the nail in my coffin.”

Alaina takes a deep breath. It feels like hours before she answers. “Okay. I won’t mention her pregnancy. You have my word.”

That’s all I need to hear. I jump up, racing from the room, calling thank you behind me.

“Holt! Where are you going?” Ella asks, but I’m pretty sure she already knows the answer.

“What!” Alaina squeaks. “Where’s he going?”

“You already have enough footage from tonight and the other day to put something great together.” I glance over my shoulder as I race down the porch. “I’m going to get my girl.”

***

I used to be smart.

Well, I’d like to think I was.

But I’m really beginning to question my intelligence. Because this? This may not be the smartest idea.

I pound on the front door, not giving myself a chance to devise a wiser plan. I’m pretty sure they already know someone’s here. When you live in a rural area, the night sky is even darker, and most people wake up when headlights flash across the bedroom in the middle of the night.

My impatience is suffocating all of my sane thoughts, snuffing them out like dying embers in a fire. “Merit!” I pound the door again. “Merit! Open the door.”

And then, the door opens.

To the very angry and sleep-deprived father of my knocked-up girlfriend. I mean, ex-girlfriend. Well, you know what I mean.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he barks. “Have you lost the two brain cells you have left? It’s one in the freakin’ morning.”

“Is it true? Is she pregnant?”

Deke curses under his breath and drags a hand down his worried face. “I thought I saw those bastards taking pictures.” There’s a rumble low in his chest. “It’s on the Internet? That’s how you found out?”

I bypass that question, asking one of my own. “How could she not tell me?”

“Tell you?! You kicked her out of your house! You tossed her on the street!” His jaw tics with anger. “Even worse, Holt, you trampled her heart.”

I lean against the doorframe, bracing myself. “I’m so sorry.”

His eyes narrow. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

“I know. Please, Deke. Please, let me talk to her. I’ve made the worst mistake of my life. I love her.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

It feels like I’m dying. “Please.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “Go home, Holt. Before I call the law.” Without looking back, he slams the door in my face.