Page 73 of Mile High Baby

When I got to Samantha's house and knocked on the door, Maria answered and smiled at me. "Miss Layton didn't mention you're coming by."

"I'm being rude again. If she's busy, I can just sit in the living room or somewhere."

Maria frowned, and I was sure she thought I was going crazy. But she invited me in, led me to the living room, and let me know that she would tell Samantha I was there.

A few moments later Samantha entered, her expression full of concern. She sat next to me on the couch. "Oh, dear. What happened? Did you decide to tell him after all, and it didn't go well?"

"I did decide to tell him, but I didn't have the chance. I overheard him and my dad talking, and my father was teasing him about the possibility of a wife and kids, and I'm pretty sure Alex would rather drink broken glass than be a father."

"Wow."

I nodded and wiped away the tears that couldn't seem to stop falling. Samantha reached over to the coffee table where a box of tissues sat. She handed me the entire box, and I was pretty sure it still wouldn't be enough.

"When he left, he didn’t bother to see me. And when he was out front, he saw me in the window and just turned away. Like I was nothing. He even told my father that he had never loved a woman and he was grateful for it. God, Samantha, how have I been so stupid? I had this dream of us being a family, and somehow, I'd talked myself into believing that was a possibility when all the evidence was pointing to the opposite."

Samantha took my hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. "I'm sorry."

I leaned over, resting my head on her shoulder. "What you said was right. I can't think about how this has shattered me. I need to think about the baby. Alex told my father that if he unexpectedly got a woman pregnant, he would provide financial support, but that would be it.”

“What a gem,” she quipped.

“Fortunately for me, I don't need his money." I turned my head to look up at her. "I'm trying to tell myself that I'm doing him a favor, but there's something about it that still doesn't feel right."

She gave me a stern look. "I know how you're feeling, Tori, but based on what you said, I'm sure he'd see it as your doing him a favor by not telling him. He doesn’t want it. Why burden him and create more stress for you?"

"Is that how it was with Pax’s father?"

She flinched, and it made me regret asking about something that clearly hurt her.

"Never mind. It's none of my business. I’m sorry."

"Pax’s father and I were done, or more accurately, he was done with me, before I even knew I was pregnant. By then, I was out west making a life for myself, and similarly to what's going on with you, I made the decision that telling him would just bring on more stress and turmoil than any of us needed."

I was glad that my father had been able to help secure her job out west so that she could find distance from the man who'd hurt her and forge her own life. Now she was back in New York, and while it was a big city, that didn't mean one didn't run into people they knew.

"Now that you’re back home, do you ever worry that you’ll run into him again?"

She swallowed and looked away. "I don’t get out much, so not really."

I rested my head on her shoulder again. "Did you love him? I only ask because I'm wondering if it's true that time will heal my wounds."

She was quiet for a moment. "I wish I could tell you that was true, but if you love him, I suspect there will always be a part of you that loves him and grieves for his loss. But you do learn to live with it."

Well, that was something.

We sat quietly for a moment. My pain didn't go away, but I did have a sense of gratitude to have Samantha with me.

"I'm sorry I have been such a shitty friend," I said to her. "I was a terrible friend, and now here I am, laying my problems on your doorstep when you’re already carrying so much."

"I've been a shitty friend too, Tori. When I left New York, I broke off with everyone except my mom. I'm sorry about that."

I sat up and looked at her. "Do you plan on staying in New York?" It was only after I asked it that I realized how insensitive the question was since I was essentially asking if she’d stay after her mom died.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think so. Moving will take a toll on Mom, but we’re thinking of selling the house and maybe getting a little bungalow on the beach. My mom always liked the beach, so it would be nice for her. And Pax loves it too."

If she was talking about the beaches in Long Island, that wasn't too far away. Again, I was selfish in wanting to keep her close.

"I didn't ask about your job. Did you have to leave your position?"