The next morning, Drew and I had another round of sex. No. It wasn’t sex at all. He made slow passionate love to me while exploring my soul with his penetrating gaze into my eyes. It was great, unbelievable, and right on target with what I needed at the time.
I sat up, deciding whether or not I felt sick. I didn’t. I pulled on a shirt and slid into my panties. As soon as my feet were planted on the plush carpet, I felt it and ran to the bathroom with my hand over my mouth.
Fucking, son of a bitch.
I turned to look at Drew between my bouts of heaving into the toilet. He was staring at me with a bewildered look. He knew.
I looked at him through the mirror as I brushed away the nasty taste in my mouth. The tooth paste smell almost had me running back to the toilet. Drew never spoke. I swear he was in shock. I couldn’t help it at the time. He didn’t have to speak. I had to lie back down.
I brushed past him and sprawled across the bed with a groan.
“Morgan?” he questioned, sitting on the bed with me.
“Yes, Drew. I am pretty sure I am.”
“Is it mine, Morgan?” he asked.
Fucking, shit…shit…shit…
“I don’t know,” I told him honestly.
He stood and paced the bedroom, running his fingers through his hair.
“I fucking knew it,” he yelled.
Great…
“What did you know, Drew?” I asked, exasperated, already.
“I knew you fucked him. You don’t fucking care anymore about me now than you did before you ever left here.”
Damn, he was pissed. I sat up. I was on the verge of being pissed myself.
“Really, Drew? You’re going to go there?”
“Where the fuck would you like for me to go, Morgan?”
“To hell right now,” I yelled. “What the hell, Drew? You don’t get that right. You fucking raped me, beat the hell out of me, humiliated me, and I be God Damned if you are going to stand here and fucking judge me for falling in love with another man. Fuck you!” I screamed.
Drew grabbed me by both of my arms.
“I have fucking apologized for the things that I did ten times over. I have been trying everything that I know to do, to make you realize how much I fucking love you. You don’t have the right. You throw that shit up to me every time you get pissed off.”
“I’m scared, Drew,” I spit out. He had a cold dark glaze in his eyes. I was scared. I wanted him to let me go, and stop screaming in my face.
He let me go, and stormed out. He locked himself in his office until it was time to go.
We were both dressed in black and rode the backseat in total silence. He stared out the window, resting his chin on his fist. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t know what to say. I could understand him being upset, and I was trying to be mature about it and not just say fuck it and run away back to my mom’s.
I walked to the coffin with my hand in Drew’s. Mr.
Callaway looked good. I thought his face looked a little sunken in, but overall he looked to be at peace.
“There aren’t many people here,” I whispered to Drew, looking at the empty chairs.
“Mr. Callaway wasn’t the most liked man,” he replied. I thought that it was sad, but could understand it. I had seen how he talked down on Drew the few times that I had seen them together. I looked around for Justin. I never saw him. His parents must not have been too fond of him either.
I almost felt like there should have been more said at the funeral, but there really wasn’t. It was a simple funeral with very few people. There wasn’t even a graveside service per Mr. Callaway’s request.
Drew opened my door and held my wrist before I could slide in. “I’m sorry, Morgan. I’m trying my best to comprehend that my wife may be carrying another man’s child,” he said. I could understand that. I touched his cheek and smiled, letting him know that I understood.
“Can’t you pin point the time frame. I can’t stand not knowing,” Drew said on the drive back to the house.
Fuck…
“No, Drew. I can’t do that. I was with you three times in the two days that you were in Maine, and I was with him three times the following day.”
Drew shook his head. He was angry again. I would be too, I guess.
I looked down at my phone and saw that I had a missed call from Dawson.
What the fuck? Neither of them had called the whole time I was at my moms. Not once did either of them call to see how I was, and now they both decide to pop back into my life at the same time.
Drew sent Marta home as soon as we were back.
He went into his office and I followed, removing my heels. I watched as he typed in the search.
“Can you have a paternity test while being pregnant?”
“Drew, I’m not even a hundred percent sure that I am pregnant,” I protested.
“You’re a week late, you have been sick for the past two mornings, but feel better shortly after. You are tired, and hungry. I’m no doctor, but I’m pretty sure you’re pregnant.”