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“That’s not a good idea,” I told her, leaving out that her sister was living in my house. She probably didn’t need to hear that from me.
“Everyone needs a helping hand from a friend. You’re obviously going through a tough time, Liam. I want to help you. I’m not trying to make this into anything more.”
How many times was I going to have to tell this woman no? Probably until I admit the truth—or at least part of it. No woman would want to be friends and hang out when I had a baby momma living under my roof.
“I didn’t want to have to tell you this. I’m not proud of it, but I’m taking responsibility for my actions,” I said, prepping myself for whatever reaction I was about to get. “I had a one-night stand with a bartender I met one night before you and I went on our first date. She got pregnant. I’m dealing with that and making sure she’s taken care of.” I stopped, hoping this would end it, that she’d be appalled and hang up on me.
“Are you sure it’s yours? If she had a one-night stand with you, then—”
“It’s mine. I had a paternity test done,” I interrupted before she could continue on about it anymore.
“Oh. I see. Well …” She paused, and I waited for her to say goodbye or have a nice life or maybe fuck you before hanging up.
Then, I heard the sniffling, and I dropped my head into my hand. Fucking hell, she was going to cry. A sob came over the line. Was she seriously crying over this?
“I’m sorry. I just—it’s the anniversary of my mom’s death. I’m struggling. Not having family to talk to. I just needed someone, and you were the only one I could think of that I wanted to talk to. I know you’ve got all this on you, and I don’t want to dump my stuff on you too.”
I’d left Liberty at home this morning and not texted or called her all day. Was she struggling with this? I knew she hadn’t gone to the funeral, but maybe it was for reasons I didn’t know. Like facing it was too much. She’d been younger than Selena. She might not have been ready to accept her death. Was she crying at home alone too?
“Again, I’m sorry for bothering you,” she said after another sob.
I realized I hadn’t responded earlier and cleared my throat.
“I’m, uh, sorry. I know that must be tough,” I replied.
She sniffled, then let out a breathy laugh. “I don’t suppose you could find a couple of hours to maybe come over to help me eat a carton of ice cream and let me borrow your shoulder to cry on for a little bit?”
I did feel bad for her, but I wouldn’t be going to her house ever again.
“I can’t, Selena. I’m sorry. I need to get back to work. I do wish you all the best, and I hope tomorrow is a better day for you,” I told her. “Goodbye.”
My thumb hit the End button, and I stared at the screen, wondering if I should check on Liberty. But if she was sad, I’d want to go comfort her, and then I’d want to fuck her. She didn’t need that, and I didn’t need to be the one she cried on. It would only make her grow dependent on me. Start getting feelings.
I’d just had a taste of what a woman who had started wanting shit and a future was like when I tried to shake her loose. That shit wasn’t easy with someone you could just shut out. It would be even harder with Liberty if she started wanting more with me. She would be in my life for the next eighteen or nineteen years. We were gonna have to raise a kid together. We needed to get along.
28
Liberty
Ozzy came racing back to me with the stick in his mouth. I tried my best to smile for him despite the knot in my chest that had been there since last night, when I’d realized Liam wasn’t coming home. I didn’t have an appetite by that point and wrapped up all the food that I’d made for dinner, then put it in the fridge. I had managed to eat some for lunch today. I’d not wanted anything at breakfast.
My phone dinged, alerting me of a text, and I pulled it out of my pocket, hoping it was Liam with a very good excuse.
Unknown Number: It’s Wallace. You keep blocking me. Until you talk to me, Liberty, I’m going to keep texting you and calling. I’ll get new numbers. I need you to give me a chance. I can fix this. I can fix us. I love you. Please, baby, I am begging you. Talk to me.
I read the text, and my mood plummeted more. He wasn’t going to stop, apparently. He wanted me to talk to him, so I’d respond.
Me: Please stop trying to contact me. I am pregnant. It’s not yours. I had a paternity test done. I’m living with the father. What we had is done. It’s over.
I hit Send. Then went to block the number. That should fix that. Wallace would not keep on pursuing me once he knew I was pregnant. If only Liam wanted to text me as badly as Wallace wanted to.
Ozzy dropped the stick at my feet, and I stuck my phone back in my pocket, then bent down to pat his head, praising him before I picked it up to toss it again. We’d been doing this for thirty minutes, but he didn’t seem to grow tired of it. At least I had him for company. He rarely left my side. Ozzy might be the best relationship I’d ever had. When Liam moved me out after the baby was born, I wondered if he’d let me take Ozzy.
I’d woken up this morning to Ozzy staring at me again as he stood beside my bed. When I had gone to sleep last night, he had lain down on the floor beside my bed. I had told him to go to his bed, but he had just looked at me, then put his head back down on the rug.
When I couldn’t find his food this morning because Liam hadn’t told me where that was, he had gone over to the cabinet it was kept in and barked once. I filled his bowl to the top. There were no directions on how much I was to give him, but since he was massive, I’d figured he required a large portion.
“He’ll keep you out here for hours, throwing that, if you let him,” Liam called out.
