Lib Novel Page 8
Damn it, I keep deviating from my plan. I keep messing it up because I cry way more than I should and I still think about the bastard when I shouldn’t at all.
But how could I not when he didn’t even bother to say “Hello” to me when we crossed path in the hallway the other day. No, he was just casually walking with a suitcase in his hand—he must’ve just come back from seeing Joy in Loverly Cave—and all I got from him was a nod.
A nod!
After a year of what I thought was a loving relationship. It has been over a month since the awards ceremony and all I got was a nod.
I almost let it go. I almost kept walking in the other direction when my pathetic heart decided to give him one last chance. I turned around, and looking at his retreating form, I said, “I’m pregnant.”
Justin stopped dead in his tracks, freezing right there on the spot before slowly turning to face me. A part of me—that desperate one—wanted to believe he would react somehow, I don’t know, positive? Maybe he’d be happy?
But once again, I was proven wrong when the bastard opened his mouth. “And what? Need me to pay for the abortion?”
There. That was that final snip.
“The only thing we will abort are your balls. Want me to pay for that?” I told him with a deep sneer he’s never seen on my previously docile face.
“So what do you want from me? Be a daddy? Sorry to break it to you, but I’m not interested,” he said with that sweet disgust.
The blood in my veins was reaching a dangerously high level, threatening to claw his lying tongue out but I still managed to say, “The only thing I want from you is a signed document saying you give up any and all rights to my baby.”
“I knew you were smart,” he answered with a patronizing smile. “I’ll send it your way by the end of the day. In return, you’ll send one that says your offspring won’t come after me at any point in life.”
My offspring. My.
At least there was one thing already that we shared with my baby. Both of our sperm donors were useless assholes.
I walked away from Justin, sending him the document he wanted, and in return got one I requested that same minute. I told myself it didn’t matter, that I could do this alone and keep the job I loved so much without being affected by seeing him day-to-day and I kept selling that delusion to myself because I was a strong, independent woman but damn it, it still hurts so fucking much.
It hurt when he dismissed his child this easily. Discarded her just like me.
Strong women can hurt too. We can feel too much too. We can be in pain and dying on the inside with none-the-wiser, and that’s what I am doing right now.
“I-I am okay now.”
“What does ‘now’ mean? When were you not okay and why haven’t I heard about it until now?”
I take a deep breath and decide to just spit it out. “I’m pregnant.”
Silence.
“Dad?” I ask, worried. I should have FaceTimed him. That way I would at least see it if he had a heart attack from my news, but instead, I’m left in the dark and the longer the silence stretches the higher my panic levels are rising. “Daddy, please say something!”
He clears his throat. “You are pregnant.” It’s not a question, more of an amazed statement like I have just told him the best news ever. “You are not joking right now like I was about the whole owl search rubbish, right? You wouldn’t do that to your old man.”
“Nope, I am not joking in the slightest.”
“Oh, thank the Lord,” he exhales loud enough for me to hear it over the phone. “Zoe girl, how dare you tell me that I’m going to be a grandpa over the phone when I can’t hug you right now!”
“Um, well frankly I had no idea you would react like…that.”
“And how else am I supposed to react when my daughter gives me the best news ever?”
“I don’t know, maybe tell her she’s an idiot? Or tell me how irresponsible I am or ask what I was thinking…or hell, ask me about the father of the baby? Aren’t you mad that I am not married and having a baby?” I fling my arms up and down while pacing around the airport—I’ll get back to that—spilling all the insecurities that have been building up in my head over the past few weeks.
“First of all, my daughter could never be called an idiot. And I mean, ever!” he deadpans. “Secondly, if you wanted to be yelled at, I can send you your mother’s phone number. She was always good at yelling for no reason because there is none here. And finally, I assumed he was not in the picture since you’ve never told me about him. You tell me about all your boyfriends, and I don’t care to know about your one-night stands or whatever it is you kids call it these days.”
Great, let’s add shame for lying to my dad to the ever-growing list of my fuck ups because I never did tell him about Justin.