Unconditional
Page 64

I feel a twist behind my ribcage, the ache of longing and regret.
Garrett doesn’t know I’m pregnant.
At first, it seemed like the right thing to do, to keep it from him, just until I knew for sure. He’d pushed me away and sworn he could never be a husband and father. And as much as I wished he could be there to hold my hand through all the uncertainty, I wanted to protect him even more. Why drag him into the drama and bring up all his old fears and pain for nothing? Drugstore tests lie all the time.
So I waited. And when the doctor confirmed I was pregnant, I still couldn’t bring myself to make the call. Anything could happen, I reasoned with myself. It’s too soon to tell.
Besides, what could I say? He broke up with me, broke my heart in two. The only thing that kept me going after I walked away that night was the hope of this pregnancy, and my own family. Juliet. When I told her what had happened—spilled the whole sorry story on her in an avalanche of tears—she didn’t hesitate for a second. She offered up her home and her friendship to me in a heartbeat, and I still thank heaven for it, every day. It hasn’t been easy, rebuilding our fractured relationship, but somehow, this pregnancy helped us both keep it together and try.
It was a wake-up call, Juliet told me one night as we snuggled on her couch, talking. She couldn’t stand the thought of another generation of McKenzies suffering the same broken relationship and terrible distance that we’ve been through. We could mend this, not just for our sakes, but for our children too.
“I want my kids to know their aunt,” she said shyly.
“You’re not…”
“No!” Juliet protested. “Why does everyone keep asking that? I’m just saying, I’ve spent enough time without you. I want us all to be better than our parents were.”
And I do too.
“I know I have to tell Garrett,” I say to Juliet, letting out a long breath. “I just don’t know how to find the words. It’s been months now,” I remind her. “He hasn’t called once. I moved out of the apartment, and I haven’t seen him since. Now I’m just supposed to waltz back to Beachwood and be like, ‘Surprise!’?”
“Maybe don’t say it like that,” Juliet tells me wryly. “But you need to say something, and soon. Emerson’s been chomping at the bit to tell him. It was hard enough making him promise to keep it under wraps for now—and from Brit too.”
I feel another stab of fear, just thinking of Garrett’s reaction. He couldn’t even have a simple relationship with me, and now, I’m going to turn his whole world upside down.
I don’t know if I could stand to see him angry, about the one thing that’s a blessing to me.
“Look, can we not talk about right now?” I beg. “I know I need to figure something out, but for now, can we just celebrate the fact that it’s healthy. He’s healthy,” I correct myself.
Juliet softens and gives me a long hug. “Of course! I’m sorry I’m nagging, I just think you’ve got him wrong. Garrett will be happy, I promise.”
I give her a wistful smile. “I wish you were right. But you don’t know him like I do. This baby…” I pause, cupping the little bump with regret. “This baby is the last thing in the world Garrett will want.”
Juliet agrees to stop pressing the Garrett issue, and as we head across town to grab some lunch, I feel my spirits rise again. I hold on tight to the little photo of the ultrasound, staring at every line and speck. I didn’t feel ready to be a mom, and in a way, I still don’t, but somehow, it doesn’t matter. From the moment I saw those little blue lines on the test, I knew deep down this was meant to be.
“I can’t believe this is going to be a real live person in six months,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief.
Juliet laughs. “A real live person eating and barfing all the time.”
“Shh,” I grin. “Don’t spoil the fantasy.”
“You mind if we swing by Emerson’s for a sec?” Juliet asks, checking the street directions. “He said they were getting the furniture in today.”
“Ooh, yes,” I agree, brightening. “I can’t wait to see it.”
We drive to the bustling part of downtown and pull up outside what will soon be Emerson’s new restaurant. They found an abandoned old workshop to use, and with a whole lot of work, it’s been transformed into a cool, rustic, open-plan space. There are still construction benches and wiring everywhere, but as we make our way inside, I can see the promise of what it’s going to become in just a few short weeks.
“Hey baby,” Juliet finds Emerson over by the long bar. “Is this it?” she demands excitedly, running her hands over the pockmarked wood. “I love it!”
“Looks great,” I add, hanging back to look around the space. Bare brick, iron girders; it looks sexy and modern. “I won’t have any trouble selling this to the magazines.”
“From your lips to God’s ear.” Emerson laughs.
I’ve been helping plan the big opening, using my PR contacts to set up reviews and press for the launch next month. I found a couple of other small businesses who need PR services too, so my freelance portfolio has been growing—enough to support me and my future addition, anyway.
“So, what news?” Emerson asks, his dark eyes looking cautiously between me and Juliet.
“All good.” She beams. “Carina, show him the picture!”