Page 3 of Falling for the Unexpected

Simone

It had been a few days of radio silence since I showed up at what turned out to be Brad’s fiancée’s house. I had run back to my car as soon as I heard the guy who had answered the door yell at Brad for cheating on his sister.

I had sent multiple texts and left him numerous voicemails since then. Each attempt at contacting him had gone unanswered. I figured that was his not-so-subtle way of letting me know that I was truly on my own with our baby.

The fact that Brad had a fiancée was a complete shock. I would never have guessed he was involved with anyone, let alone getting married. We had never defined what was going on between us for the past few months we’d been seeing each other, but the moment I realized he was engaged, it’d rocked my world. I was not only pissed at Brad for doing that to me, but to the other woman as well. From her reaction, she’d been devastated by Brad’s deception. Even though I hadn’t known about her, my guilt was overwhelming. I was not the type of girl who went after unavailable men. I hoped that one day I would have the opportunity to apologize to her, but I wasn’t sure if that would ever happen.

Even with Brad’s deplorable behavior, I still wanted to give my child a mother and father who were both involved in their life. My baby wasn’t even born yet, and I already felt like a failure. I had no one in my life to model how to be a good parent. I was born to parents who had cared more about their next high than me. When I was finally put in foster care, the abuse and neglect I’d suffered didn’t stop, but was instead delivered by complete strangers. It’d caused a host of issues, which included never developing a bond with anyone in a parental role. The moment I’d turned eighteen, just a few weeks after I’d graduated from high school, I’d been on my own—with no one to turn to. When I met Brad at the beginning of my sophomore year at Beachside Community College, it’d felt right, like perfect timing, but we’d only just started getting to know each other when I got pregnant. We were still new and I was still reeling from the thought that we’d forever be connected, regardless of what he did, or didn’t do.

There was no guarantee that Brad would help us out, and that scared me. He had suddenly cut off all contact a few weeks ago. At the time, it’d shocked me, but now I assumed it had something to do with him getting married soon. During Brad’s disappearing act, it was finally confirmed that I was pregnant. I had suspected it for weeks, but I had been too scared to find out for sure. Once I knew, I’d wanted to tell him right away, but I was worried about how he would react. Obviously, I hadn’t been wrong in assuming the worst. Still, I wanted to provide for my child but every day, it seemed more impossible. There was no way I could juggle college, my part-time job, which I needed more than ever, and a baby. My baby deserved so much more than what I’d had, and I was determined to not fail as a mother like my own had failed me.

Sitting cross-legged on my dingy couch, I looked around my tiny studio apartment knowing I would need to figure out another living situation soon. This wasn’t any place to bring a baby home to. As soon as night descended, so did the drug dealers and prostitutes who lived in the neighborhood. The mad dash I made from my car to my front door each night was a testament to how unsafe I felt here. As bad as my living situation was, I wasn’t sure how I was going to be able to pay the rent for a nicer place, especially if I was going to have to pay for daycare as well. There were so many unknowns and the stress was starting to take its toll on me.

The one positive thing that kept me going was the baby growing inside me. Two days before I had gone to confront Brad, I’d had my twenty-week appointment and learned I was having a girl. That was part of the information I was going to share with him, but nothing went as planned that day. I hadn’t expected a houseful of people, never mind Brad’s fiancée and her family. Then the looks on all their faces… It was the most mortifying experience of my life.

And the good-looking man who had opened the door, with his tall build, light brown hair, and green eyes that were so much like the other woman’s features… it was obvious they were siblings. I had felt his eyes on me the whole time, wondering who I was, what I was doing there. He probably hated me just as the rest of them did now.

I may not have had everything figured out yet, but I knew I loved my daughter more than anything and I was going to do whatever was needed to take care of her. That still didn’t change the fact that I would love to have someone here with me to share this experience with.

While I was sitting in my dark, drafty apartment and contemplating my future, I heard my cell phone ding with a text notification. I wasn’t interested in talking to anyone at the moment and chose to ignore it. Instead, I went into my kitchen in search of dinner, praying whatever I ate would stay down. I opened the refrigerator, but it was almost completely empty, just a carton of milk, some lunchmeat, and a jar of pickles. Again, I heard my cell phone ding. Deciding it could be important, I went to grab it off the foldable card table that was acting as a dining table and looked to see who the sender was.

With utter disbelief, I clicked on my text app to read the message from the one person who had been ignoring me.

Brad:We need to talk.

I felt like a lead weight had planted itself firmly in my stomach at those four simple words. Of course we had to talk, but what did he want to talk about? Had he decided he wanted to be involved with our baby? Did he want to finally confirm what I had feared this whole time, that he was done with me and our daughter and I was truly on my own? Or worse, did he want to try to take my child away from me? As much as I feared his intentions, I had to know what was on his mind.

Me:Ok. Do you want to meet in person or talk on the phone?

Brad:In person. Can you meet tomorrow?

Me:I have to work at 3 so anything before that is fine.

Brad:Noon at your apartment?

Me:Sure.

I didn’t know if meeting at my apartment was a good idea, but I wanted to be as agreeable as possible. Having him involved was the most important thing to me, and whatever I had to do to make things easier on him I was going to do it. I was determined that my child would have a father. I was fine with him only wanting a relationship with our child, but if he wanted us to have a relationship I wouldn’t rule that out either. Maybe that seemed foolish to some, but having grown up the way I did, the dream of having a stable home life, with a complete family, was too good to pass up. I knew how the real world worked and I had no illusions about Brad being in love with me. Hell, he could still be with his fiancée for all I knew. But if he wanted to work things out with me, I’d be willing to try. Because knowing my daughter and I weren’t alone in this… would mean everything.

The next day when my doorbell rang, I felt as though I might vomit. For the first time in months it wasn’t due to the pregnancy but rather because of the massive amount of nervous energy that was spinning in my stomach. I tried to calm down and not fidget.

I opened the door and was immediately met by a pair of steely blue eyes set in a handsome face. Brad was an extremely good-looking man with his blond hair and toned body. His looks were what drew me in the night I met him. Now those eyes weren’t staring at me in lust like they had that night, instead they flicked to my pregnant belly. It seemed in that moment it finally hit Brad that he was going to become a father. The quick intake of breath and widening eyes were a dead giveaway that reality was setting in.

Brad was just under six feet, but next to my five-foot-two-inch frame, he could be very intimidating. I had seen his anger often when we’d gone out, and even though it had never been directed at me, it was scary nonetheless. At the moment, he didn’t look happy to be here, but I was relieved that he didn’t appear angry.

“Hi,” I said, quietly.

His eyes shot back up to meet mine again and he took a deep breath before speaking. “Hey. Can I come in?” he asked, equally quiet.

I pushed the door open and moved aside as an unspoken invitation for him to enter. He had been in my apartment many times. Most of our hookups happened here. It wasn’t ‘til recently that I understood why he never invited me to his place. I could feel the bitterness seeping in so I quickly pushed that thought away. I wanted today to be about making amends and starting fresh, no matter what had happened in the past.

As he walked by me, I couldn’t help but notice that he moved stiffly and had a few bruises on his face, like he’d gotten into a fight. I swallowed hard, wondering if he had—with the green-eyed man. That man had looked fit enough to take on Brad, who was definitely not out of shape. While I didn’t condone violence of any kind, to have someone defend your honor… it was a nice idea. Granted, he would have been defending the honor of Brad’s fiancée, but one could dream. Knowing Brad’s quick temper, I wasn’t going to ask what happened. I needed him calm and focused.

He took a seat at one end of the couch, which was the only option in my tiny living room. I sat on the other end putting as much space as possible between us. I turned, propping my knee up on the cushion, and waited silently for him to start.

“So,” he said, slowly. He appeared to be choosing his words carefully so I gave him a moment. “I’m going to want proof that the baby is mine.”

My jaw went slack with surprise. I was slightly taken aback that that was the first thing he’d say after days of silence. In my mind, I wanted to throw back at him that I wasn’t the one with a fiancée that I had been cheating on, but I refrained. Lashing out wasn’t going to solve anything or make him want to be involved.

And even though his assumption offended me, I couldn’t deny that he had the right to ask. “Okay, I understand wanting to know for sure. I have no doubt that you’reherfather but I’m happy to have the test done,” I said, emphasizing the gender of our child.

“Her?” he questioned, his eyes growing wide again.

“Yes, we’re having a daughter.” I smiled, hoping to see some kind of excitement from him.

For some reason, my answer seemed to displease him. His expression turned grim. “Oh, well, I’ve done some research and I found out you can do a paternity test while still pregnant. I would prefer that so we could know sooner rather than later. If it’s”—he paused when I eyed him questioningly—“I mean, ifshe’smine, I’m prepared to do the right thing,” he said with zero enthusiasm.

“And… what do you think the right thing would be?” I inquired timidly, almost afraid to ask, but I had to know what he was thinking.

He looked away, resignation in his voice. “We’ll get married and raise the child together.”