“We’ll figure it out, but I gotta tell you, Kitten. My brain ain’t worth shit right now. I’m exhausted and honestly I’m not a hundred percent sure I’ve processed any of this.”
“I understand,” she said against my finger.
“You can’t do it, can you?” I said, smiling half-heartedly.
“Can’t do what?”
“Be quiet,” I said, winking at her.
“Sorry,” she whispered, breaking eye contact by turning her head.
I leaned over, cupped her chin and forced her to look at me.
“Can we figure it out tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” she muttered.
“Kitten,” I said hoarsely.
“Please don’t call me that,” she whispered, turning away again so I wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.
“You should probably get used to it if we’re going to do this parenting thing. You will always be my Kitten,” I said, taking her hand and tugging her against me. “Lay down with me?”
She lifted her head from my chest and looked up at me, blinking—her eyes full of unshed tears. Neither of us said another word as I pulled her onto the bed and wrapped my arms around her.
I closed my eyes, listened as she sniffled against my chest, and because I was a selfish fuck, I cuddled my baby mama.
Talk about a mind-fuck.
Chapter Eighteen
Here we go again.
I removed Riggs’ arms from me and hurried out of bed, making a beeline for the bathroom. Routinely, I dropped to my knees and pulled my hair back bowing my head surrendering to the nausea. I’m not sure how long this vomiting business can go on. At some point doesn’t the baby need for me to sustain food to grow?
After the initial shock wore off, and I told the women I was pregnant, they tried to make me feel better and told me I was glowing.
I was most definitely not glowing.
But hey, thanks for trying guys.
I don’t know what made me blurt the truth to my mother. I’m going to blame all my craziness on the hormones and pray that after I give birth they find some sort of chemical imbalance so I can continue the charade.
To say my mother went ballistic would put things mildly. Very mildly. She lost her shit, and rightfully so; I suppose. She hates Riggs.
But she didn’t have to do what she did.
It wasn’t her place to tell him.
Yet, as pissed as I am, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was relieved too.
I decided there was no right way to tell a man you slept with once, who blew you off and crippled your self-esteem, that you were having his child.
Now everything was out in the open and he had a choice to make.
I prepared myself for the blow, knowing very well he doesn’t want a kid but he didn’t outright say that.
Not yet anyway.
He didn’t say much of anything.
I wonder if he even remembers. Oh, God, please let him remember. I don’t think I could go through that again.
He knocked on the door as I flushed the toilet.
“I’ll be right out,” I called, making my way to the sink and rinsing my face. The cold water instantly made me feel better, but still, I wished I had a toothbrush. I grabbed the bottle of mouthwash he kept on the ledge of the sink and gurgled until the foul taste left my mouth.
I opened the door and spotted Riggs sitting on the foot of the bed, yawning as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“Hi,” I said, leaning against the frame of the door, not really sure where we go from here.
“You okay?” He asked, tipping his head toward the bathroom.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve gotten used to it,” I replied, watching his face for some sort of reaction, not even sure what it was I was expecting.
He nodded, his eyes dipping down to my stomach momentarily before looking away.
This was going awesome!
“I should go,” I stammered, pushing off the frame of the door.
“Go where?”
“Home, my brother’s house. I’m assuming this whole lockdown thing is over with, right? I’m a free bird so I’ll just fly away and get out of your hair,” I rambled.
“Stop it, Lauren,” he said, causing me to look at him.
“You’re pregnant for Christ sake and you didn’t get that way by yourself,” he hissed, lifting his eyes to mine. “C’mere,” he ordered, patting the empty space on the bed beside him.
I licked my lips and reluctantly walked toward him, sitting down next to him.
“You’ve had a helluva lot more time to digest this whole thing, so I’m assuming you being you, you have a plan?” He asked, reaching behind him and leaning over the bed to grab my glasses from the night stand. He sat up straight and pushed the glasses onto my nose. “Better,” he said. “Now go on, tell me, what’s the plan, Kitten?”
I felt stupid because he was right, I should’ve had a plan. But since every plan I make seems to go up in smoke, I decided to be reckless and just take it day by day. I say reckless because taking it day by day shouldn’t be an option when you’re responsible for another life.
“I don’t have a plan, Riggs,” I mumbled.