The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)(29)

I watch Mikey climb the stairs before grabbing my cigarettes off the table and heading out to the back porch.

I knew it would happen eventually, I knew the other shoe would drop. I just assumed it would be something we could control, something we could work through. Something less threatening, less agonizing. I never expected the thing to rip apart my happiness to be an illness neither of us could control.

Taking a long pull of my cigarette, I try to ease my nerves and shake my head, hoping the thoughts will disappear. I’m overreacting which is so out of character for me. I’m not the girl that worries, or drives herself mad with maybes. I’m the girl that rolls with the punches and when life gives me lemons I make spiked lemonade—a shot or two of vodka and that shit is delicious.

So why am I sitting out here crying?

I angrily wipe my tears only for them to be replaced with fresh ones. Staring at the cigarette in my hand, watching as it burns, I realize I don’t even want it. I was hoping it would relieve my anxiety but all it does is remind me how bad smoking is for me. I flick it over the porch and jump when I hear the sliding door close behind me.

I turn my back to Mike and try to blow into my eyes to stop the tears.

“I’ll be right in,” I say quickly, willing my watering eyes not to betray me as he steps closer. His fingers knead my shoulders as he leans close.

“Princess,” he whispers.

I close my eyes as he slowly spins me around in his arms.

“Look at me,” he demands softly.

I can’t.

I want to disappear.

“Nikki, look at me,” he insists.

Clouded by unshed tears, I blink my brown eyes and peer into his that are full of concern and confusion.

“Shit,” he growls, wiping my cheeks with his thumbs. “Why are you crying?” I imagine Mike feels panicked watching me unravel. I can count on one hand how many times he’s seen me cry and three of them were over the last few weeks. He gets frazzled when I’m emotional, like I’m a freak of nature he doesn’t know how to handle.

I don’t blame him.

I hate emotional Nikki too.

“Is this about your dad again?”

Right. My dad. The reason everyone thinks I’m distraught. I suppose my dad being in prison is partially the reason I’m sad, but it’s not everything—it’s not the main reason I’ve been bursting into tears at the drop of a hat.

After Mikey proposed I was upset, and I cried whenever I thought about our wedding and how my dad wouldn’t be there. It’s not so much him not walking me down the aisle but knowing I won’t dance with him. I’m not even talking about the sappy dance a bride and her dad usually share, I’m talking about real dancing, where you break a sweat and have everyone on their feet watching you. Dancing was kind of our thing, we’d tear up the floor at every family function and on the most important day of my life, he won’t be there. Not to give me to Mikey or to dance with me.

It sucks.

It hurts.

“It’s not my father,” I snap, pushing him away and taking a step back to put even more space between us. “Not everything is about our wedding and my father spending the rest of his miserable life behind bars.”

I hated the words I spoke as they left my mouth. I hated the tone they carried and the sharpness of them, but more importantly I hated the look they caused in Mikey’s eyes.

“I’m not a mind reader, Princess. You’re going to need to elaborate and I’m not allowing you to brush me off so you better choose your words,” he grounds out, crossing his arms against his bare chest as he waits for me to explain my attitude and the tears we both weren’t sure how to handle.

“Two months ago my period was late, like two weeks late,” I start, assessing Mikey’s features, waiting for him to show some sign of a freak out but his face remains neutral. His eyes are blank as he gives me his undivided attention.

“I took a test, and it came back negative,” I caution, taking a step closer. The sigh of relief I expected never came. “I wound up missing my period that month altogether but the following month I got it and it was worse than ever before. The bleeding was so bad and the cramps felt as if my body was splitting in two. I was scared and didn’t know what to make of it. I started to think the test was wrong, maybe I took it too soon and I really was pregnant and the bleeding, the cramping—well, I thought I was having a miscarriage.”

Finally, Mikey shows some reaction biting the inside of his cheek as he uncrosses his arms and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to be sure. I didn’t want to tell you something like that without knowing for sure,” I pause, tearing my eyes away from him to stare at my bare feet. “The test was negative, Mikey. It was just me over thinking or maybe it was a sign telling me I needed to go to the doctor.”

“Did you?” He asks. His voice thick with emotion and rough like gravel all at the same time.

“Yes.” I look up at him through the fringe of my lashes. “Turns out I wasn’t miscarrying, there was most definitely no baby but he also didn’t know what the cause of the problem was and sent me for a whole lot of tests. It could be a number of things.”

“Like?”

“Mike—”

“Like?” He repeats, clenching his teeth as he speaks.