“I gotcha some candy worms.” I dangle the bag in front of him, but he’s not the least bit interested. Taking my face in his hands, he steals a kiss instead, and I revel in his smooth chin, jaw, and cheek. I love to kiss him. Especially when he’s clean-shaven.
“Come on. We’re going to be late,” I tell him, reaching for the door handle.
He moves to open the door for me but stops, his eyes rising and looking over my shoulder, the color draining from his face.
I follow his gaze.
Cici Diggins strolls past us, her steps slowing and her eyes locked on Kaleb.
But my stare falls to her stomach. Her pregnant stomach.
My lungs empty. No.
I jerk my eyes to Kaleb, seeing his jaw flex and his chest rise and fall in shallow breaths. How far along is she? We’ve been away from town for six months.
Unless she’s carrying twins, she’s farther along than that, which would mean…
Is it Kaleb’s?
I can’t swallow. I can’t breathe.
I look over my shoulder again to see her saunter up to us. “Let me guess,” she says. “You’re going through the math in your head right now?”
She smirks, looking between us. “We’ll be in touch,” she whispers to Kaleb.
She walks away, and I blink, trying to keep the tears away. Please. I hold my stomach because it hurts. Not this.
“Kaleb?” I murmur.
She was pregnant before the snow. She was pregnant well before the snow.
But he says nothing, simply opening the truck door and ushering me inside quickly.
He slams the door, rounds the front of the vehicle, and climbs into the driver’s side, speeding off toward home. The lumber in the bed bangs against the tailgate, and the groceries spill in the backseat.
I hold the handlebar above the door, staring over at him. “Did you know she was pregnant?” I asked.
His knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel, an
d he won’t look at me.
“She’s been pregnant a while. Is it yours?”
Still, nothing. Did he know? He seemed surprised. But maybe that’s what she was upset about in the cave that day. She was pregnant, and he didn’t want her.
Anger curdles inside me, and I breathe hard. “Did you know?” I demand. “Did you know last fall?”
He punches the gas, taking us across the train tracks, toward the highway leading home.
If it’s his, Cici will be in our lives forever. She’ll have his first child, not me. I’ll never have that.
Won’t he say anything? Nod or shake his head? Why won’t he do anything? I know he can!
“Just let me out,” I choke out, the tears threatening. “Stop the truck.”
He keeps driving.
“Stop the truck!” I yell.