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I look like I’ve been run over by ten dump trucks, set on fire, then left in a pile of molding sandwiches.
“Eight weeks,” he finally answers.
We were together for three weeks. It’s been two weeks since the press dropped the bomb on our fledgling relationship. When did Jeanette conceive? Before or after he told me he was devastated by me?
Devasted. That’s the verb he used the last time we were together. He was devastated by me, by what we had together.
“You don’t want children.”
He told me he didn’t want kids. He also told me he and Jeanette weren’t together and that they hadn’t been a true couple for years.
One broad shoulder lifts in an approximation of a shrug. “It was a surprise.”
Finding a twenty dollar bill on the side of the road is a surprise. Getting a curly fry mixed in with an order of regular fries is a surprise. A baby is a life-changing event.
They were about to separate publicly. Then, when a reasonable amount of time had passed, Blake and I could stop hiding our relationship. We had plans. I couldn’t wait to share my joy with everyone, including my friends and my family, announce it to the world, and maybe even go on an actual date with Blake that went beyond my bedroom.
“You were never going to leave her.” I don’t bother making it a question. It’s an unequivocal fact that I couldn’t comprehend before now because I was too busy being dazzled by Blake and everything he is.
He was devasted. I was dazzled. Clearly a recipe for disaster.
He drapes an arm behind me on the bench. “I can’t leave Jeanette now. Splitting from her when she’s pregnant?” He shakes his head. “I can’t do that. What would people say? We’ve both agreed that we have to do what’s best for our careers. I know that you of all people can understand that.”
I don’t understand. It’s true that I’ve been single-minded when it comes to work, which is the main reason I was able to resist him for so long, but this is . . . beyond even my greatest flaws and ambitions. He's talking about having a baby for his career and staying in a loveless marriage for show.
The real ass-kicker is that none of this is a surprise. I’ve always seen him clearly, and despite his obvious self-absorption, despite the anger churning in my gut,even nowif he said he would give it all up to be with me, I . . . I don’t think I could resist him.
I’m such a fool.
“I already have three songs written about what I’ve been going through. All of this press stuff,” he waves a hand, “even though it’s a little hard right now, think about how much interest it will generate in my music.”
Blake keeps talking in soothing tones, low and intimate, but the words are lost over the roaring in my ears.
I doubt he’ll notice I’m not listening and responding. He can’t comprehend a world where people don’t hang on his every syllable. I’ve never had blinders on when it came to Blake’s flaws, but I loved him anyway. I’m not sure he could say the same about me. I’m not sure he loves anyone, really, except himself.
On the one hand, I miss him. On the other hand, he’s being a total self-absorbed asshat and I hate him, and I hate myself for wanting him still.
“Maybe after the baby is born and things calm down, we can try again?”
The steely anger burns a path through my veins. “Are you kidding me?”
He frowns, a crease forming between his brow. “Is that a no?”
“It’s a hell no.”
His mouth pops open in surprise.
Before I have a chance to enjoy his astonishment at being rejected, my phone rings, the jarring, musical sound filling the space between us. I pull it from my pocket and stare at the number on the screen.
It’s the executive VP of Rebel Records.
“Hey, Sonya.” Mouth dry, I stand, taking a few steps away from the bench, putting my back to Blake and his words and this entire conversation.
“Hi, Mindy. Can you come in sometime today so we can chat?”
I’ve been on administrative leave, waiting to hear from them about the status of my position for weeks. “Absolutely. I can be there in twenty minutes.”
This has to be good news. They can’t fire me, not without firing Blake, too. They would never do that—he’s worth too much.
