Page 49 of Good For Me

“I’m going tohavethe baby. But I haven’t decided on…” she swallows and her voice shakes a little when she speaks. “Adoption.”

“Oh.”

My brain is spinning and I feel like I’m going to throw up. The idea of my baby,ourbaby, out there somewhere without us…

“That wouldn’t just be my choice,” she goes on. “Adoption, I mean. That’s the kind of thing we’d have to agree on. You have rights, River.”

A wave of dizziness crashes over me. I have rights. Rights to my child. Holy fuck, how is this even a conversation we’re having?

“I still don’t understand how this happened,” I mutter, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, cradling my head in my hands. “We used condoms.”

“Condoms aren’t always a hundred percent. And you didn’t answer me before, about checking the package.”

“Checking it for what?” It’s a struggle not to snap at her. None of it is her fault but God, it’s just starting to dawn on me how messed up this is. A baby. I can’t be a father. What the hell am I supposed to do?

“An expiration date,” she says, and my blood turns to ice.

“I didn’t check,” I say in a strangled voice. “Fuck, I didn’t even think about it.” My breathing is coming in sharp gasps. “This is all my fault.”

“No, it’s not—”

“No wonder Brie wants to kill me.”

“She’s just being overprotective,” Jas says. “She was pissed you weren’t around when I found out.”

Yeah, because I’d been a fucking coward. My feelings had been hurt so I did the thing I always do—I bailed. I left her alone and terrified for the past month. What the hell is wrong with me?

“I should have fucking been there.”

Maybe she can sense how close I am to breaking down, because Jas leans across the table and covers my hand with hers. “River. I had access to your employment file at the bar. I could get your phone number or address. I could have found you if I wanted to.”

That does nothing to soothe me. She could have found me if shewantedto. “But you didn’t.”

And who the hell could blame her? What woman in her right mind would want to have a baby with someone like me? I’m a fucking part time bartender who lives in a rental house with my cousins. My biggest commitment is surfing four or five times a week. I have no education, no goals, no plans. I’m a mess.

A mess who got her pregnant because I was too stupid to look at an expiration date on a condom.

I stand so quickly I nearly knock over the chair. “I have to go.”

She looks up at me with wide eyes. I can’t read the emotion in them, but I don’t think it’s surprise. She probably figured I’d bail long before this.

“Not forever,” I say quickly. “I just…I need to go.”

She nods her head. “Okay, River.” She looks away. “Will you give me your number first? I could go through the files but that feels sketchy—”

“Yeah,” I say quickly. Jesus, I was ready to walk out of here without making sure she had a way to contact me. I rattle off the number and she types it into her phone.

“I’ll text in a few days,” she says softly. “I’m…I’m sorry, River.”

“What the fuck do you have to be sorry for?” I ask, way too loud. “This is my fault, Jas.”

“It’s no one’s fault, it just—”

But whatever it is, I can’t hear it. Not right now. I need to get the fuck out of this coffee house. I need to not look at this woman I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen head over heels for and see how much I’ve fucked up her life. I need togo.

“I’m sorry,” I manage to rasp out, not sure if I’m apologizing for leaving now or for the whole mess. Both, I guess. I turn on my heel and nearly careen into the waitress bringing our drinks and Jasmine’s baked goods.

God, just twenty minutes ago I was asking her what she wanted to drink. And now the ground has dropped out under me. “Sorry,” I say to the waitress, steadying her with my hands on her shoulders. I have a feeling I’m going to be saying sorry a hell of a lot more in the next few months.

Before I can do anything else to cause pain, I flee from the coffeehouse, leaving Jasmine sitting alone at the table.