It's a Fugly Life (Fugly #2)

And you forgot.

My heart pounding, I turned slowly. Right in front of my face was the display of little white sticks in fancy boxes. My trembling hand stretched out, and I felt like I was reaching for a nightmare. A big fat nightmare hiding inside an innocuous little box.

I grabbed a three-pack and headed for the register.



The ten-minute drive back to Max’s felt like two seconds. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d heard my cell vibrating over and over again. Callahan spoke to me, too, but I couldn’t hear a damned word. The entire world had disappeared around me, leaving only myself and my frantic heart. I sprinted inside Max’s house, through the front door and into the guest bath right off the foyer. I fumbled with the plastic-foil wrapper, tossed the cap on the ground, and did my thing. As I sat there, panting, feeling like I was going to lose my mind, a funny feeling sank in. Why was I panicking? I wasn’t all together ready, but I wasn’t fifteen. And Max would be happy, wouldn’t he? My fear that he’d be a horrible father and mentally wreck our children for not being perfect was idiotic. I saw that now. He wasn’t anything like that woman I’d hit today. He was good. He knew who he was. I had to trust him because if anyone didn’t have their ugly under control it was me, not him.

I glanced at the stick and felt my innards dissolve.

Plus sign. “Oh shit.”



I didn’t know how long I stayed in the bathroom, peeing on the other two sticks, wondering how the hell I’d forgotten to take my pills, but the results did not change.

I threw everything into the trash and washed my face with warm water to clean off the sweat. Hanging my head over the sink, I looked into the mirror at my face. What if I had a little girl, and she turned out to look like me? The thought broke my heart. Not because I wouldn’t love her, but because I knew how cruel the world could be. I didn’t want to watch my or any child endure that sort of pain. I just didn’t.

I suddenly felt a huge amount of respect for my own parents. They’d never once led me to believe they’d had these same thoughts and feelings, but they must’ve.

I shook my head and patted my face dry.

A loud knock on the bathroom door startled me. “Lily!”

“Max?” Holy Jesus. I jerked open the door, and there he stood looking wrinkled and beaten down. “What are you doing here?” I threw my arms around him and hugged him hard.

He peeled me off. “Why weren’t you answering your phone just now?”

I blinked up at him, taking in that sublimely beautiful face with several weeks’ worth of thick stubble. “You should talk! I haven’t heard from you for two days!”

“I forgot my phone at the hotel in Buenos Aires, and I didn’t have time to replace it since I had to get to the airport to catch a plane home—the Wi-Fi was also out on the plane. But forget that. What’s this I heard about you hitting my mother and getting arrested?”

I winced. “She had it coming.”

He shook his head, and I saw the raw anger in his eyes. I hadn’t expected him to be so upset.

“I need a drink.” Max headed for the living room, where he had a bar in the corner. I followed him, feeling every nerve ending spark with adrenaline.

He served himself two fingers of scotch. “Care for one?”

I stood opposite him across the narrow counter. “No. Thank you.”

He took his glass, raised it to me, and threw it back. Frankly, I’d never seen Max looking so volatile.

“Are you all right?” I asked. Because there was a lot I needed to talk to him about—the ownership of the company, our very complicated relationship, Patricio’s little issue, but really, there was only one topic I needed to get off my chest ASAP. Baby.

He set his glass down and refilled it. “No,” he barked in reply to my question.

I was about to ask what happened with his sister when the front gate buzzed.

My lips twisted sideways. “I’ll get that.”

Max was too busy pouring another drink down his throat, determined to anesthetize himself from something awful.

I walked over to one of the intercoms stationed in the little hallway just off the foyer. “Yes?”

“Lily! You open this gate right now!”

“Patricio? What are you doing here?” Oh, hell. He must’ve been calling me from the airport earlier.

“I am here to see that bastard! Open the gate.”

Hell no. He’d clearly come for a fight, and Max’s foul mood would guarantee he got one.

I heard the gate buzz open.

What in the… I hadn’t touched anything.

“The man wants to see me? Let him the fuck in.” Max stood behind me with a remote of some sort in his hand and then walked back to the living room.

“Are you out of your mind?”

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