Players, Bumps and Cocktail Sausages (Silence #3)(40)

Abby and a baby was all I’d wanted, and I just lost both.

Her belly was wiped and she sat up, taking the photographs.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

She turned around, and my heart slammed against my chest. It was over. All of it. Our marriage and our future, completely gone. She wasn’t mine any more. Her baby wasn’t mine. We were done. My eyes stung. I spun around and sprinted from the room.

I ran towards the exit and could hear her hot on my heel. She was running to catch me up, to say what? There was nothing that could ever make this better. She’d assured me the baby was mine, and her and Brett used contraception. They obviously fucking hadn’t. Or there was another man in the frame.

“Jasper, please!” she shouted as I jogged to the car park.

I ignored her.

“Jasper, I’m sorry,” she said, running faster to catch up with me. Thank God I’d insisted on taking two cars.

I slammed against my car, fumbling in my pocket to find my keys. I opened the door, gripping the handle. “How could you not tell me there was a chance the baby wasn’t mine? What the fuck are you trying to do to me?” I bellowed.

“I didn’t know, okay. I thought it was yours. I’m sorry. My periods have been light, but my midwife said when the baby implants some women can bleed and that didn’t mean I wasn’t pregnant before they stopped completely.”

“So fucking tell me that to begin with, so I don’t get my hopes up. Jesus I’ve been so happy these past couple days. I bought a motherfucking toy penguin!”

“I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t think it could be anyone else’s.”

“You’re always sorry these days. Is it Brett’s?”

She dropped her eyes.

“Well isn’t that fantastic. Have a nice life, Abby.”

Gasping, her head shot up. “No! Please. I don’t want to leave it like this. We have to talk. I need you to believe that I didn’t do this to hurt you. I thought you were the dad, I swear.”

I got in the car. Slamming the door, I shoved the key in the ignition and got the hell out of there.

It took me quicker than usual to get home. Much of the journey was a blur. The kid with Abby’s eyes and my smile slowly disappeared from my head. She knew. If there was even a chance, she should have said.

I shoved my front door open and kicked it shut. “Fuck it!” I shouted, punching the wall. Pain shot through my hand, so I shook it off. Everything was falling to shit. I felt like I’d just lost my chance to have a family and I was completely lost.

If she’d have at least told me she’s slept with him around the same time, I wouldn’t have put everything into it. I wouldn’t have made plans in my head, and I wouldn’t have thought about the first time he or she called me Daddy or peed on me when I was changing a nappy.

Heading straight to the alcohol cupboard in the kitchen, I ignored the dragging feeling weighing me down. I just wanted to get blind drunk, get lost in another woman and sleep. Then I wanted to wake up and have this all be just a shitty dream.

Holly would know what to do. She was having hard time getting over the library dick, who kept trying to get hold of her through her friends and family, so at the very least we could drown our sorrows together. I already felt pathetic but somehow drinking alone took it to a whole new level.

I called her, and she picked up almost right away.

“How did it go?” she asked. “When’s the baby due?”

I closed my eyes.

“I can’t remember.” I’d zoned out by that stage, frozen in shock as the news that I wasn’t the dad sunk in.

“The baby isn’t mine.”

She gasped. “What? Not yours?”

“Abby lied. She’s probably been seeing Brett this whole time. She thought the baby was mine, but missed out the part where she was sleeping with someone else. God, Holly, I thought I was having a kid.”

“Are you at home? I’ll come over.”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Okay, give me ten minutes.”

“Thanks,” I breathed and hung up.

Less than ten minutes later, Holly knocked on the door.

“It’s open,” I shouted, not being bothered to get up from the sofa.

She walked in just as I took another swig of Southern Comfort.

“What the hell happened to the wall? Show me your hand!”

“It’s fine,” I replied, taking another swig.

“Stop that.” She snatched the bottle from my hands. “You’re not drinking this away.”

“I thought I was gonna be a dad, Hol.”

“I know,” she said and sat beside me, putting the bottle down on the table. “I’m so sorry you got hurt again. She’s such a bitch for allowing you to believe you were the father.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say bitch before.”

She smiled, blushing lightly.

“Say it again.”

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

She nodded at my bloodstained knuckles. “Do you need me to take care of that?”

“My boner?”

She gasped, her light blush turning lobster red. “Oh my God! No, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t even know you had… you know.”