“Yeah,” Amanda says with that odd smile once more. “Bye, Lyle.”
I head to the elevator, hearing the door snap behind me. It feels strangely final. I shake my head. I’m being ridiculous and paranoid. Everything is fine.
As I head down to the ground level, however, I try not to be too worried that she didn’t reply to my feelings.
Chapter Sixteen
Amanda
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
The moment Lyle is gone, I feel awful. How could I do that? I know my plan is to break up with him. He still hasn’t told me who he is, after all. I’m mad at him.
But then he flounces into my apartment, concerned for my health and wondering what’s been going on, his huge eyes beseeching me to tell him, and I just…
“Argh!” I say out loud, running my hand through my hair.
My phone rings. I glance at it and scowl at my mother’s picture before picking it up.
“What?” I ask sourly; I’m still unhappy she let Lyle into my apartment without telling me.
“It didn’t go so well?” my mother asks sympathetically.
On the contrary, it went a little too well, but I’m not about to tell her that. I huff.
“Why did you let him in?” I demand. “Especially without warning me first?”
“Sorry,” my mother says, though she doesn’t sound apologetic at all. “I met him at the door, and he seemed really sincere.”
“He was,” I say grudgingly. “He was concerned because he hadn’t heard from me in a few days.”
“See? I told you that you need to talk to him.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I snap. “I’ve already made my decision. I’m not changing my mind now. He’s had plenty of time to talk to me, and he hasn’t.”
“Just like you’ve had plenty of time to tell him that he’s going to be a father?” my mother asks.
I hate it when she makes sense, sometimes.
“That’s different,” I protest.
“I fail to see how.”
“Lyle hid the truth from me first,” I say, feeling a little sulky. “And I am going to tell him about the baby. When I’m not so mad at him.”
And when I can be assured that I won’t jump on him the moment I see him, I add silently.
“When will that be?” my mother asks wryly. “When the baby is born?”
“I definitely wouldn’t do that to him,” I say. “That’s horrible!” I sigh. “If I still haven’t calmed down in a week, I’ll tell him, okay? I’ll definitely tell him.”
“Of course, honey,” my mother says, though she sounds unconvinced. “Well, I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.”
“Reading,” I lie, glancing at the book on the couch, where I left it last night.
My mother laughs.
“Fine, I’ll let you go back to your book,” she says. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Lyle. Remember I’m always here if you need me.”