“Lay it on me.” I like this no-holds-barred thing we have going on.
She takes a deep breath. “Eric’s family was behind the offer on the farm. I just found out about it when he showed up on our doorstep last week.”
My jaw tightens, and I scoot her off my lap.
“See, I knew you’d be upset. Which is why I didn’t tell you about it. Because I know your family needs the money.”
I let that sink in. It’s a difficult pill to swallow.
She continues. “I’m tempted to say I hate him, but that suggests I feel something for him, some kind of emotion, but I don’t. Honestly, I’m not sure what I saw in him. But what I do know is he and his family can afford some little farm. That expense means nothing to them. And if it meant helping you and your parents get out from this mountain of debt, then I thought it was worth swallowing my pride.”
I blow out a breath. “You were going to let me take that money because you wanted to help my family?”
She nods, her lower lip trapped between her teeth.
“From someone you hate?”
Her whole body is tense, like she’s afraid I’m going to yell at her.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “Pretty much.”
I laugh. “I’d be really pissed if I went through with it and found out later.”
Her hands fidget in her lap. “If you sold the farm, I’d hoped you wouldn’t find out. That you could go back to Boston and restart your life. Use that money to raise Izzy. To take care of your parents.”
A silence stretches between us, and finally, I groan. “You’re amazing. I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. You’re worth it.”
“I’d say you’re the one who’s worth it.”
Resting my forehead in the crook of her neck, I breathe her in. Her hands thread through my hair, and we stay like that for a long minute. When we part, I ask something I’ve been dying to know. “So what happened with him? Why’d you break up?”
“I realized the senator didn’t mean half of his campaign promises, and Eric knew this and let me go along like an idiot.” She rolls her eyes. “That’s why the campaign hired someone right out of college. Someone who was dumb enough to believe the spin and sell it. Because I was passionate. Convincing. Especially when it came to fracking. Anyway, I overheard Eric and his dad talking one afternoon and found out his father had no plans to enact any reform. Of course, I was livid. Eric and I argued about it. I told him I was going to quit. Which he thought was insane since, hello, I worked for a senator. But I couldn’t in good conscience continue to lie for the campaign.”
“I’d be pissed too.” I pull her back into my lap, and she rests her head on my shoulder. “Since we’re having this big discussion, can I ask you something else? Because I heard parts of your conversation with Eric last week.”
She stills, and I lace our fingers together, wanting to reassure her.
“You can ask me anything you want.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Were you really pregnant last spring?”
A deep sigh leaves her. “Yeah.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Right after that argument, I got really bad food poisoning and threw up non-stop for two days. It compromised my birth control, and I was too sick to realize it. Then a few weeks later, my period was late.”
I rub her back. “So what happened? Did you? You know…”
“Oh, God, no. I didn’t get an abortion. I mean, I’m totally pro-choice, but I don’t think I could’ve gone through with it. Eric was pissed I had gotten pregnant. Upset about how it would look for the campaign. You know”—she lowers her voice—“‘son of a conservative senator knocks up girlfriend.’ We weren’t in a good place at the time—we had already been arguing about the campaign when this happened.” She blows out an exasperated breath. “Anyway, then I came here.” She takes a deep breath. “I had just arrived when I started spotting. The doctor said sometimes pregnancies terminate without rhyme or reason.”
“Damn, that’s heavy.”
“Kinda.”
“I’m sorry, babe. That’s a lot to go through.”
She nods against me.
“Mrs. Mac said you guys were engaged.”
“No way. Before the pregnancy scare, he had brought up marriage. But I couldn’t see that kind of future with him. I had never really wanted kids—I helped raise my sister. I didn’t want to be saddled with children while he was traipsing around the state.”
I clear my throat, wishing we’d had this conversation sooner. “Do you still feel that way? About kids?”
She laughs and turns to kiss me. “No. I want kids, silly. Just not with him. I mean, how could anyone be around Izzy and not want kids?”
Thank God. A wave of relief washes over me. “Cause, you know, I have a kid.”
Kat laughs harder. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”