Page 159 of The Five Year Lie

But his gaze is so calm that I start to relax. “Amina didn’t deserve what she got. But I wasn’t going to let you take the fall for what your uncle did.”

“But Hickson said I’m not in trouble.”

“Right.” His voice is quiet. “Because he has Ray trying to nail Zarkey and Zarkey trying to nail Ray. It’s different now. I couldn’t count on that, though. And I just wasn’t willing to risk it. Not for one minute. Not if I could help it.”

He leans in and kisses my forehead, and I relax against him instinctively. “Still. What went through your mind when you saw that video?” I shiver. “There goes the worst employee of Chime Co.My dad was actually right about that.”

“No, baby. That’s not it at all. When I saw you on that video, I saw my own arrogance. I showed up in Portland to make someonepay. But the further I got, the more rules I broke. Just like Ray and Zarkey. And even Ward. I thought my own goals were more important than the rules.”

“They were,” I insist.

“My intentions were better. But when I saw that video, it didn’t matter anymore. I wasn’t going to take you down with me. Even a one percent chance was too much. Revenge is a shitty lifestyle, baby. I learned that from you.”

“You didn’t,” I argue.

“I did.” Jay tightens his arms around me. “You live your life on your own terms, and now you’re teaching Buzz to do the same. Don’t waste one minute thinking you’re to blame for anything that happened at Chime Co. I don’t.”

I sort of sag against his body, and he holds me up.

“Is there something I can do for you? Are you sick?” he asks, rubbing my back. “Or was that just a really bad shock?”

“I...” Deep breath. “I might be just a tiny bit pregnant.”

His hands freeze on my back. “Seriously?”

“Probably.” I screw my eyes shut, because of course I didn’t mean to blurt it out after an ugly moment. “It’s a theory I’m working on. The timing isn’t great, but...”

The rest of that sentence is lost when Jay lets out a whoop that’s way too loud for the bathroom. “Holy fu... dge,” he says, laughing. He’s been trying to work on his language, for Buzz’s sake. “Ihopeit’s true. This time I want to see you get all round and wobbly.”

“That is not a selling point,” I say into the collar of his T-shirt.

“Says you.” He picks me right up off the ground. “Come on. We have to be sure. Let’s go.”

“What? Where?”

“To a pharmacy. I need to know if this is true.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now! We’ll need to pick out another paint color, too. Doyou hope it’s another boy, or a girl? Which room should the baby get?”

“Put me down. I don’t care.”

But those are lies. I want his arms around me, and I care a great deal.

We both know it, too.