Page 76 of Expecting an Argument
I left the room decorated in celebration of our impending parenthood and breezed past Mom and Aunt Liz whispering in the foyer. My hands stayed in my pockets so no one could see them shake.
I found myself in front of the pink and blue glass containers of punch but couldn’t bring myself to get a drink.
How could I have miscalculated so badly? Olivia and I never put a label on our relationship, but how could she say we weren’t together? We were always together. We were going to be parents together. Our whole lives were going to be together.
No matter what I did for her, or gave her, I still wasn’t enough for her.
I nearly retreated to the kitchen again when I caught Tyson approaching out of the corner of my eye.
God fucking damnit. Of course.
I fixed the furrow in my brows, but my hands gripped the refreshment table as I turned to face him. “Hey, great shower. Your wife did a good job with everything.”
Tyson gave me a half smile. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Beau. I know how you’re feeling.”
I was in a fucking free fall, hiding behind twenty-eight years of practiced indifference. Tyson “born with a horseshoe up his ass” Copeland had no God damn clue what I was feeling.
I bit back the urge to tell him to fuck off and instead merely shook my head.
He gave me a knowing look. “You can’t hide that ‘oh-shit’ look on your face. I felt the same way at our first baby shower for Kierra—that’s when the reality of being a dad really sank in.”
Beads of sweat formed at the back of my neck. I swore the leather ring box threatened to burn a hole through my pocket and fall to the floor. Pain bubbled up inside my chest like I was a freshly-shaken soda can, ready to explode.
I had to escape—make an excuse that I was going to clean the kitchen.
“Y-yeah,” I answered. “You caught me.”
Before I could run, Tyson put a hand on my shoulder and smiled. “Being a dad is one of the hardest jobs out there—not everyone is cut out for it.”
I forced my face to keep still as I swallowed a lump down my shaking throat. My eyes darted around the room, finding Ashley scooping up a giggling Tarik and setting him on her hip, then Dr. Copeland mixing blue and pink cups of punch to create a pretty purple drink for Kierra.
“You’ve got a good family, Beau,” Tyson continued. “Don’t be afraid to rely on them.”
My eyes settled on the light streaming in from the window on the front door. My heart pounded as I waited for it to open, waited for that tall man with blonde hair to walk in at last.
But just like Olivia had rejected me, my dad had rejected me too…and neither of them were ever coming back to me.
“Just lean on your girl like I did,” Tyson said, “and you’ll be just fine.”
I shrugged out of Tyson’s grip and bit my tongue before I said something I would regret. I only caught the briefest glimpse of Tyson’s brows furrowing in confusion as I left the dining room. My hand wrapped around the brass handle and I flung the front door open. The air was sticky, but I ran face-first into it as I made my great escape.
“Beau,” my mom called behind me. “Where are you going?”
I ignored her, running down the steps two at a time before heading to the Bel-Air parked on the lawn. I opened the door just as Mom ran up to me.
“What the hell are you doing?” Mom hissed. She glanced over her shoulder at the house. “Everyone is watching you!”
I was halfway into the car when I looked back at the house. Aunt Liz stood on the porch, her hand over her mouth. Ashley clung to the purple front door as Tyson stood behind her, watching me fall apart.
But my heart skipped a beat when I saw the white dress hiding within the shadows of the foyer, the ghostly silhouette of the woman I still loved—the one who, despite everything, would never love me back.
I tore my eyes away from Olivia and sank into the driver’s seat. Mom tried to stop me, but I jerked my arm away from her.
“Everyone is always watching,” I bit out. “Doesn’t mean we’re any less alone.”
I jerked the Bel-Air door shut and turned the key as the ignition roared to life. I slammed on the gas, tearing through thelawn and bumping down onto the curb as I sped away.
My heart pounded as I gripped the steering wheel. I gritted my teeth so hard I swore they were going to crack. The tension in my chest bubbled over as I maxed out the speedometer toward the manor, each painful thought morphing into a white-hot tear on my cheek.
