Unbreak My Heart (Unbreak My Heart #1)(23)
“Very cool,” I agreed.
“Is it going to be our cousin?” Sage asked, jolting me out of my soft conversation with Keller.
“Can you grab me a glass of water, sis?” I asked after what seemed like a really long pause. “I need to take my medicine before I get sick again.”
“Ew!” Keller yelped, scooting back away from me.
As Sage climbed off the bed, I turned to meet Shane’s eyes.
He looked as shell-shocked as I felt.
Chapter 5
Shane
I felt like I was spinning out of control.
As I lay there in my bed, I couldn’t help but think back to when I’d sneaked the kids in to see Kate a few mornings before. She’d been sleeping so heavily that she hadn’t even heard the door open or the kids’ quiet conversations, and for a moment I’d felt a flash of something between protectiveness and possessiveness rush over me.
It had rattled me so badly that I’d made an excuse to use her bathroom and had locked myself in there for a few minutes to get my shit under control. Protectiveness I could handle—it wasn’t a new feeling when it came to Kate. But possessiveness was wrong on so many levels that I felt like a creep for even putting a name to it. I didn’t want her, and she wasn’t mine.
She wasn’t mine even though she was currently carrying my child.
I pushed my sheets down to my feet in irritation and rolled onto my side, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep. I had less than two weeks before I had to leave, and though I was already starting to transition into work mode and the familiar life I’d be living for the next six or seven months, my mind constantly raced with the thought of leaving my kids.
I’d left them before. Shit, I’d left over and over again…but things were different now. I wouldn’t be leaving them with their mother, secure in the knowledge that everything would stay the same when I was gone. I was leaving them with Kate, and I trusted her with their lives, but I couldn’t reconcile that with the place she had in mine.
She was pregnant. God, how could I have been so stupid? As if f*cking Kate hadn’t been enough of an epically bad decision, I’d also stormed the gates without putting on my goddamn armor.
Not that I’d had any condoms with me anyway. I hadn’t had sex in a year, and I hadn’t planned on having sex for a very long time after that. Then I’d made the boneheaded decision to use Kate to end my dry spell.
Kate. My wife’s best friend, and the niece of the only people I’d ever called my parents. The worst mistake I’d ever made in my entire life.
I couldn’t decide if I was mad about what I’d done or so f*cking sad about the entire thing that I wanted to weep.
I didn’t want a child with her. God, I didn’t want any more children period.
I could barely keep up with shit as it was, even with Kate to take care of the kids while I worked. How the hell could I add another kid into that mix? When Rachel was alive, I’d teased her that I wanted a houseful of kids. I knew that it was a lot to place on her shoulders when I was away so much, but she’d agreed wholeheartedly with my dream, and she’d never once complained about the life we’d made.
If she hadn’t died, I had a feeling that she’d probably already be pregnant by now, and I’d be ecstatic about adding to our brood.
But Rachel was dead, and Kate was the one who was pregnant. I couldn’t find it in myself to be excited about that.
And as I turned to my belly and shut my eyes tightly, I finally gave in to the fear that had been niggling in the back of my mind for close to a week.
The fear that I wouldn’t love Kate’s child the way I loved the others.
The fear that I’d feel nothing.
*
“Are you sure you’re okay with them?” I asked for the third time as I screwed the lid on my coffee mug.
“I’m fine, Shane. I promise. Sage doesn’t have school today so I’m going to let them sleep as late as they want and then make them snuggle on the couch for a movie day.”
“Are you still puking every five minutes?” I asked, taking in her pale face and hastily tied-up hair. She still didn’t look good.
“Nope. The anti-nausea stuff they gave me is like magic. I haven’t puked in like—” She looked past me to the clock on the stove. “—four hours.”
“You were up at two in the morning vomiting? Why the f*ck would you even take that medicine if you’re still puking? That’s f*cking bullshit. Call the doctor and see if they have anything else—another brand maybe. Did you buy generic? They say that stuff is the same as the name brand, but—”
“Whoa! Slow down there, turbo.” She cut me off, raising her hands in the air between us. “It’s not foolproof, okay? It helps, but it’s not a cure-all. I’d much rather puke every six to eight hours than every fifteen minutes. It’s doing its job. I’m keeping my food down and can actually drink water again. It’s all good.”
“You’re still throwing up,” I replied stubbornly.
“Let’s see how many different names we can think of to describe vomiting. We’ve used like three already. Why don’t I go next?” She pursed her lips and squinted for a minute before stating, “Blowing chunks. Now you.”