Page 33 of A Little Secret
He hasn’t said a word to me since the baby’s heartbeat echoed through the hospital room.
It was so fast. Faster than I expected. It kind of scared the shit out of me because now that I’ve heard the sound, it’s made my entire situation…real. All of it.
I should be mad Griffin knows. I should be pissed at the doctor for blurting out my not-so-little secret to him while I was recovering from my seizure, but I can’t find the energy to be angry, even if he hasn’t taken his eyes off me since.
I shift on the couch, my body aching. I feel like I was hit by a truck. It’s a familiar feeling. Doesn’t make it easier, though.
“How are you feeling?” Griffin asks, breaking the silence.
“Like a million bucks.”
“I’m serious, Fin.”
I paste on a fake smile and lean my back against the couch. “I’m fine, Griff.”
His eyes narrow. “You’re not fine.”
“Yes, I am,” I argue. “I’m fine. The baby’s fine. Everything is…fine.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“Then why did you ask?” I toss back at him. “If you’re so sure of how I feel, why even bother asking me?”
“Because you’re not fucking fine, and I want you to admit it.” He leans forward in the armchair across from me and threads his fingers together. “I want you to talk to me.”
“Well, what else would you like me to say, Griff? That I’m pregnant with a baby I don’t even know if I want right now, and I’m connected to a man I’m seriously questioningwhether or not I want to be tied to, and I feel young and stupid and alone and scared and every other negative emotion a girl like me could have, not to mention the whole epilepsy side of things and whether or not my anti-seizure medication is working any more thanks to the hormones flooding my body, let alone whether or not said medication is affecting my baby’s development. Yup, that makes me even more overwhelmed and frustrated and fucking terrified, all right? So, yeah. You’re right. I’m not fine, but if I have to assess my actual feelings instead of hiding behind rainbows and butterflies, I just might lose my shit, and that isn’t an option right now, either, so how am I, Griffin Thorne? I’m. Fucking. Fine,” I snap.
“Okay, you’re fine,” he grunts, settling back in his chair.
“Thank you.”
Silence envelops us, but it barely lasts a minute as he continues his intense stare.
I know what he’s doing. Baiting me. Trying to convince me that opening up is the better option, when I’m so overwhelmed I don’t even know where to start. Or maybe it’s my stubbornness keeping my lips sealed. Yeah, I’m well aware I can be a bit hardheaded on occasion, but he has no right to come in here and demand I let him in. Not when he’s so far removed from the situation he can judge me from afar.
Folding my arms, I hold his gaze and turn the tables. “Is this another game of Chicken?” I ask.
“Sticking your head in the sand won't get you anywhere.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” I volley back at him.
“Says the girl who sucks at acknowledging reality.”
“I don’t suck at?—”
“You have a baby in your stomach!”
“Uterus,” I correct him. “And, yes. I. Fucking. Know!”
“Does anyone else?” he challenges, refusing to back down. “If the doctor hadn’t mistaken me for the dad, would you have bothered to tell anyone, or would you have kept pretending like none of this is real until you delivered the kid?”
“I don’t need a lecture from you.”
“Yeah, well, you’re getting one,” he snaps. “Because I care about you and this?” His attention falls to my stomach. “This isn’t some failed test you forgot to study for but can make up in the future. This is…” He sighs. “This is a lot, Fin.”
“Again, I’m well aware, but thank you.”
“Not gonna acknowledge the whole I care about you bit, huh?”