“Shit! Sorry,” I say, catching her arm since I almost knocked her over.
“Not to worry. It’s my fault. I turned too quick.” But her eyes stare up into mine and I feel like she’s searching for something.
“Did you need something?”
“How close are you to Poppy?”
I lift an eyebrow to her and gesture for her to have a seat. But she continues to stand and paces back and forth, agitated.
“Are you good? Maybe you should sit down. It’s not good for the baby to have you so agitated.”
“It’s not good for her either.”
“Who?”
“Poppy.”
“What does this have to do with Poppy?” I ask her, tension digging in to my soul now.
“Did you know she’s going to quit? She’s leaving town as soon as she can.”
It feels like a fucking wrecking ball to my gut. Like I’ve been torn apart by a storm and then flung to the far corners of the earth. I suck in a sharp breath, feeling despair and anger tugging at me.
“Why is she doing that? Because she’s been so sick?”
“Because she’s pregnant and apparently it’s yours.”
My head swims and I grope for the door, leaning into the jamb, shocked. But what I don’t feel is upset. I feel hopeful. She’s having my baby. I know it’s mine. Poppy’s not the kind of woman that goes out all the time. I know. Half the time we work late and she goes home exhausted, just like me.
So it has to be mine. I must have said it out loud because Spring nods her blond head.
“Yes, it’s yours. Although she didn’t tell me. I guessed. She doesn’t want to bother you with it. Says you’re not looking for a future.” She stomps up to me and pokes me in the chest. “Well, you’ve got one, buddy. And it’s not fair to expect her to be the only provider for this baby.”
“I don’t expect that. I love Poppy.” Flashes of her at work and then how she looked during our one time together all coalesce into a whirling picture of the woman that I need more than anything on this planet.
“Oh shit! I love her,” I whisper, letting the emotions roll over me.
“That’s all well and good but she’s never going to believe you if you know about the baby. And she’ll leave anyway.”
“No! NO! She can’t leave. I need to think.” I pace back and forth, fear and anxiety knotting my gut.
“Go to her. Tell her you love her. But don’t tell her you know about the baby.”
I shoot her a startled glance. “That would be lying. I can’t do that.”
“It’s not lying. It’s just fudging the timeline.”
My eyebrows lift higher. “That’s not how that works.”
“Well, you better figure it out. Because as soon as she gets out of the hospital tomorrow, she’s leaving.”
I grab my coat and keys. But I pause by the door. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I hate gossip but in this case, I’m glad you told me.”
She shoves me lightly. “Go! Just watch how you tell her!”
I race out the door and tear out of the parking lot, my teeth clenched and my pulse thundering in my ears. Will she listen to me? Will she let me be the man she needs? And our baby needs?
A smile curls my lips. “I’m gonna be a daddy.” If I can catch her before she does something silly like leave me.