Page 80 of When Sinners Fear
He takes the steps up to a small cocktail bar, and we enter. It’s not somewhere I’ve been before or that I’ve noticed. It’s quiet, but then it’s still late afternoon.
He indicates a small table, and I take a seat.
“What would you like?” he asks, taking his coat off.
“A lime and soda, please.”
His brows pull together, and I wonder if it’s in recognition. “That’s not a drink.”
“Well, it is. It’s just not an alcoholic drink,” I correct, amused at the same conversation we had on our first date.
“I know you drink, Peyton. Wine?”
“No. A lime and soda is fine. I really can’t drink.”
“Nobody cares that you’re not twenty-one.”
“It’s not that, Knox.” I look up at him and weigh the options I have in front of me. Everything has been wrong since I came back. The theory that everything would fall back into place was horribly flawed. The only thing that’s been a constant is how I feel for Knox. Complicated and twisted as that may be, it’s not changed. If anything, it’s only grown stronger. Maybe fighting something I can’t solve isn’t the way to fix it. Maybe I need to look at it from a different perspective to make it balance. Maybe loving Knox is just a fact, and I shouldn’t analyse or dissect it. Just accept it.
I don’t have to tell him about the baby, but I want to. In my heart, no matter what’s happened between us, if he still feels anything for me or not, he deserves to know the truth. Our truth.
“Then what?” He looks cross, but I don’t know if that’s because of this conversation or if he doesn’t really want to be here with me. He’s back, and I’ve not attempted to get in contact with him, so he has his own explaining to do.
Maybe I’ll trump that.
Time to rip the band-aid off. “When the doctor gave me the pills after we were rescued, I didn’t take them. I’m pregnant.”
CHAPTER TWENTY - NINE
KNOX
The bar seems suddenly silent. All I can hear is my own heartbeat rushing twenty to the damn dozen. I keep staring at her eyes, barely acknowledging anything but them. What does she mean she didn’t take the pills?
“Knox?” Is she fucking talking?
I stand, almost panicked. Not because of the baby inside her, or her sheer fucking beauty because of it, but because any rational thought just left the goddamn building. I was in control. I’d made a decision, of sorts.
She stands with me and keeps staring me down. “Are you going to speak?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“About the pills? I didn’t take them. I left it to fate, in a way.” I look at her stomach for the first time, as her hand goes to it. “I was processing everything that had happened. But I had to find out for sure. And then Mom died.” I look back up at her mouth moving. “If you’re worried, don’t be. I don’t want anything from you. You don’t have to–”
“What do you mean you don’t want anything from me?”
“I just … maybe you don’t want anything to do with a baby, given the look on your face.”
“What look on my face?”
“You look furious.”
“I’m surprised, Peyton.” She nods and looks around. “How could I possibly be furious with you? I’ve never once been furious with you. Incensed, yes. Furious? Not even close.”
“Yes, you have.”
“When?”
“In your bedroom. You threw a chair at me.” What is she talking about? I frown. “Don’t deny it. I pushed you and you didn’t like it and threw that chair.”