He sighs, long and weary. “I appreciate that,” he says. “Does that mean you’ll try to listen to me now?”
I hesitate for barely a fraction of a second. “I’ll do my best.”
I can almost hear him suppressing another sigh. “He’s not going to be able to give you the life you want, Jessa.”
My heart falls instantly, but I bite back the tears and the sadness. He’s not telling me anything I don’t already know.
“Think about your life in the last few months,” he continues. “That’s what you’re looking at for the rest of your life if you choose to stay with him.”
“I’m having his baby, Chris,” I say softly.
“So?” he asks. “People have babies all the time. That doesn’t mean they stay together.”
“Chris—"
“I love you, Jessa,” he says. “I only want what’s best for you. And for your child, too. You don’t need him.”
“I can’t raise this baby alone.”
“You won’t have to,” he says. “You and that kid will always have me.”
A tear slips down my cheek, and I know if this conversation continues I’m going to end up a blubbering mess.
“I love you, too, Chris,” I say, choking out the words before I completely lose it. “I have to go now.”
“Jessa—"
I hang up, hating myself for not seeing things Chris’s way. It’s so black-and-white to him. But to me, the world is more inscrutable than it’s ever been. I’m lost at sea, and there’s one scarred, tattooed hand reaching out to save me from the waves.
Anton’s.
Can I take it?