He couldn’t blame his dad for teaching him a lesson. Preacher asked him to stay with Robin, to keep her company, especially on her birthday, and instead, he went and did what he wanted to, without a care for her, or what she wanted.
“I know. I will make it up to you.”
“Why do you have to keep making things up to me? I don’t get it, Bishop. You’re my best friend.”
“I know. I’ll be for the next one.”
“Are you seeing someone?”
“You want to know if there’s a girl waiting for me?”
“Isn’t there? I’m not a fool. I know this is only on paper, but if you really want to be with someone else, then I don’t want to be in the way.”
“You’ll never be in the way.” There wasn’t another girl. He didn’t want to go and sit in a room, staring at the screen to tell him his girl had another man’s baby.
Yes, he wanted to pretend he was the higher person, that he knew more, and he was doing the best he could, but it was all lies. Every single little part of it.
“You better go, Robin. You don’t want to miss the appointment.”
“If it’s not some other girl, it’s this, isn’t it? It’s the baby.”
“Robin, I love you. You know that, but there are some things I can’t handle. This is one of them. I’m sorry. I wish I could say something different, but I really can’t. Give me time. It’s all I ask.”
She nodded, opening the door. “I get it. I do.”
He watched her as she walked across the parking lot. He sat for a couple of minutes as she disappeared inside the building.
“Go in there, asshole. She’s your best friend and was with you whenever you needed her. She was by your side, and she didn’t ask for this but is doing the best that she could. Your dad is handling this shit. Just get in there.”
He didn’t move.
Instead, he started up his car, and pulled out of the parking lot.
There were some things he couldn’t do.
Robin wiped the tears before they fell. When she was no longer pregnant, she would be happy from the reprieve of struggling with her emotions. She hated crying, and it felt like she’d done so for no reason.
Sitting back in the chair, there was no mistaking the larger stomach. She would be getting bigger, but she could still get up and sit down without any assistance.
Picking up a magazine, she flicked through the pages, not seeing any of the pictures or words.
Randall was busy, and his assistant said he’d be back soon. He was fixing up the machine.
She turned toward the door to see Preacher enter. He didn’t say anything as he approached, taking a seat.
“Bishop didn’t want to come in,” she said.
“Did he tell you?”
“He texted me before he drove you here. I had to cut my meeting short, but I wouldn’t miss this.”
She tried to hide her sniffles, but he heard. He held out a tissue, which she took. “Thank you.”
Next, he took her hand. “You shouldn’t be crying for him.”
“I … I miss my best friend.”
“He’ll come around.”
“What if he doesn’t? We spend time together, but he always looks ready to take off at the nearest chance. I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s so exhausting.”
Preacher turned to her, his large, muscular frame filling her senses.
“What you need to do is stop worrying about Bishop or what he thinks. None of this is his business. It doesn’t have to be. If Bishop can’t get his head out of his ass, he has no right to be here.”
“No buts. Listen to me. He has no right to make you feel miserable.”
“He is my husband.”
“And I’m starting to think it was a mistake making you two get married.”
He took her hand. “Don’t let him in, Robin.”
“Preacher, Robin, would you like to come through?”
He didn’t let go of her hand, and she didn’t fight for it back either. They followed Randall into the back room, and Preacher helped her up onto the bed.
Leaning back, she lifted up her shirt.
“How are you feeling?” Randall asked.
“The morning sickness?”
“Comes and goes. Today was a good day.”
“That’s good. Some women experience morning sickness throughout their pregnancy, but others only get it in the first trimester.”
“Let’s hope I’m the latter,” she said.
He chuckled. “How are you feeling overall?”
“I’m finding myself getting tired more. My clothes are too tight, which is making me miserable.”
“I’ll have some clothes sent to my house,” Preacher said.
“No, you need to be comfortable.”
He was already tapping on his cell phone, and she didn’t have the energy to argue.
“Let’s see what we’ve got here. Do you want to know the sex of the baby?”
“Yes,” they both said in unison.
She turned toward Preacher. “You do?”
“Yeah, I want to know how to decorate the nursery. I want to be prepared for everything.”