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“Ugh!” I yell in frustration as I stare at the blank screen. I finally decided to ask Sara to take me over to Best Buy on Sunday morning so I can take a look at new phones. I’ve had the damn thing sitting in rice for the last thirty-six hours, and I don’t even know why I let Christine scare me into taking this God-awful road trip, but I did.

In my head, my intent was to protect my baby at all costs.

Now I just wish I’d never come.

I didn’t realize how freaking dependent I was on my phone until I dropped mine in a toilet at a rest stop.

That’s right. I’m that freaking stupid.

I stuck it in my back pocket when I got out of the car since these maternity jeans don’t have front pockets, forgot about it, went to the bathroom, and sure enough, just when I stood up, it slipped out right into the urine-filled water.

I almost threw up as I fished it out, but I managed to hold it together as I ran to the sink to rinse it off. Half a bottle of sanitizer later…and the damn thing wouldn’t turn on.

When I got to Sara’s, she stuck it in rice to dry it out, and now, a day and a half later, I wish I never would’ve left Fallon Ridge.

I tried to send my mom an email, but I couldn’t remember my password. Why do I need to know it when it’s stored on my phone and in my laptop?

I didn’t bring my laptop. Didn’t think I’d need it for a quick trip to convince Cam, who I haven’t even seen yet, to sign over the rights to the baby. My plan was to call him when I got into town and ask him to meet me somewhere.

But I don’t know his number.

I don’t know anybody’s phone number. Who memorizes numbers anymore when you just type them into your contacts and save them?

I had Sara send my mom an email through the address listed on the church website, but chances are pretty likely my mom won’t see it until Monday morning since she rarely checks her email, particularly on the weekend outside of regular business hours. And I don’t think Tristan and I have even exchanged email addresses, so I can’t have Sara email him to let him know my phone’s dead.

So we play the waiting game.

“Did you back everything up to the cloud?” the salesperson asks me.

I have no freaking clue. Is he for real? “I don’t know.”

“Once you log into your account we can check.”

“Log into my account?” I echo. “I don’t know my password.”

“You don’t know your password?” he repeats.

I shake my head.

He sighs.

This is going to be a long day, and it’s only Sunday morning.

I think about going home and just coming back during the week to confront Cam, but what’s even the point? I came here to see him, and I’m going into the office with Sara in the morning to tell him to sign the damn papers.

At least that’s my plan.

I’m terrified, though. Christine made it seem like he wants to be part of this baby’s life. Or she wants him to be, anyway.

I’m not sure why she got involved.

She knows nothing about this…that much was clear.

Why she didn’t just call me, I’ll never know. Maybe she wanted to see my pregnant belly for herself. It’s a mystery to me.

But I’m fighting for this baby. I’m fighting for the dream life that was within my grasp a few days ago. I’m fighting for Tristan, me, and Fallon to become a family.

I’m fighting to keep Cam out of it forever.

I had to do it alone. Tristan’s not home, and my first thought was just to get the hell out of town. I called Sara as I left my house, and she told me to come stay with her. She told me she’d help me put together a plan. I beelined for her place.

It’s not like Tristan’s back home anyway. It’s the final day of his big party, the day when everyone checks out and heads home. I’m sure he’ll be worried when he gets home and I’m not there, but my mom will show him the note I left. Everything will be fine.

Sunday feels interminable. I’m nervous to see Cam, and even though Sara is doing her best to entertain me, I can’t stop thinking about tomorrow.

What if he sees my rather enormous baby bump and decides he wants to be part of her life?

What will I do then? What will Tristan and I do?

Christine is right, though. Cam does have rights even though he told me in no uncertain terms that it was my problem.

I left my job to protect the baby. I went back to Fallon Ridge to get away from Cam. I did everything right, and all I needed was his signature on the papers Christine somehow intercepted to make everything legal.

Instead I’m spending my weekend incredibly stressed and I don’t even have Tristan’s calming voice in my ear telling me everything’s going to be okay because I dropped my damn phone in the toilet.

What a mess.

“Let’s go shopping,” Sara suggests after I’ve paid for the phone I can’t activate since I don’t know my account details. “Some retail therapy always makes me feel better.”

The salesman gave me instructions to take it home and activate it there. He told me he could do it in store, but it might take a few days to recover my account. I’ll be home tomorrow, so I opted out of that one.

I agree to the retail therapy, and a few hours later I have a trunk filled with baby clothes and toys. I found the sweetest little purple bedding set with unicorns and flowers—very fairy-esque and somehow magically princess-ish at the same time, and as soon as I saw the set, I knew it was perfect for my baby girl. She picks up a few outfits for her honeymoon, which is just a few months away now, and we shop until dinnertime, when we go out for some Chicago style pizza.

If I wasn’t already huge from carrying a baby, the pizza would do it. I eat so much I feel like I’m carrying twins.

Once we’re back at Sara’s new house, which is gorgeous, by the way, I take a short, relaxing bath and head to bed.

I toss and turn all night, which is no different than usual at seven months pregnant, and when light dawns in the morning, I take a shower and get ready to see Cam.

Nerves crawl down my spine, and I can’t seem to keep still. I pace back and forth as I wait for the clock to hit seven-fifteen when Sara and I agreed to meet in the kitchen for breakfast.

This is not keeping things low stress, but this is something I have to do.

I know I need to eat something, but my stomach is in knots. I draw in a deep breath and release it slowly, trying to calm my racing heart down.

There are so many what-ifs in my head right now, but I know worrying about them is useless. I’ll have my answers soon, and then we can take it from there.

“Want eggs or something?” Sara asks once I join her. “I’ve just been having protein shakes these days.”

“No, don’t go to all that trouble. Do you have yogurt?”

She nods and hands me a little individual container of vanilla Greek yogurt, and then she grabs me a spoon.

We sit at the table together.

“Tell me more about Tristan Higgins,” she says, clearly trying to distract me as I eat and she drinks. “I know the basics—you met when you were twelve, he was your next-door neighbor, you broke up shortly before you graduated high school, and you reconnected when you both found yourselves in your hometown at the same time a few months ago, and now you’re engaged to be married and he has agreed to raise the baby with you as the father. But what’s he like ?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. He’s Tristan. He’s a normal guy who happens to play football professionally, but to me he’s still the boy next door who I fell in love with when I was twelve.”

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Is he, like, so good in bed? He seems like he would be. He gives off this vibe like he knows what he’s doing. It’s in the way he walks or something, like he’s packing heat down there and has to adjust his gait to accommodate the size.”

I giggle. “Pretty much all that, yes.”

She laughs.

“And he’s so kind. He’s the type of guy who would do anything for anybody. He leaves things better than he found them. He always wants to help, like he’s got some savior complex or something.”

A thought occurs to me as I say the words.

Is that why he wants to be with me?

Is he trying to save me and the baby the way he helps everybody else?

I’m not sure why I’m questioning it right now of all times. I know he loves me…but why does he love me? Why does he want to give up the single life he just got back? Why does he want to raise somebody else’s baby as his own?

Is it because it’s what he truly wants? Or is it because he sees a girl he used to care about in a tough situation, and he’s doing what he thinks he has to do to help me?

The thought leaves me feeling a little empty and a little broken.

“Okay, girl, what’s the plan? Are you just going to walk into the office all pregnant like hey everyone, surprise! It’s Cam’s baby in here! Or do you have another plan?” she asks.

I chuckle. “Gosh, I’ve missed you.”

She reaches over to squeeze my hand. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“I don’t know if I have a plan. I didn’t really think about seeing Paul while I’m there or explaining what’s going on,” I admit.

“Let’s get there early, then. You can just be waiting in Cam’s office when he gets there. It’ll be a nice little surprise for him.”

I chuckle nervously, and then I nod. “It’s a plan.”