it was on the verge of exploding off my face as I took in the man clutching at a chair for dear life. Even his mouth hung open like all the life had been sucked out of him. I was pretty sure I wasn’t imagining the fact that he looked on the verge of fainting either.
I kept my mouth shut though, at least while I had this booger on my lap. I didn’t want her getting all flustered because she could sense me getting that way. She was sensitive, and if she’d sensed me even starting to get upset, whether it was sadness or anger, she’d immediately pick up on it and get fussy.
So, with all the strength I had inside of myself, I kept my voice nice and even, tried to will my eyelid to get its shit together and my face to quit being hot and my nostrils to go back to normal. I managed to put a smile on my face, even though part of me was making stabbing motions inside, and asked, almost sounding sweet, “Why didn’t I tell you?”
God, the sarcasm was dripping off every word out of my mouth.
I bounced Mo on my thigh, earning a big toothless grin. We were pretty sure she was about to start teething soon, a little late but the pediatrician said not to worry, and from everything I’d heard, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but that wasn’t for me to focus on right then. I had bigger things to stress over. Specifically six foot five inches and two hundred and fifty pounds of fuckface to focus on.
I kept my voice light…ish even though I gave him a bitchy bright smile. “What do you consider me calling you and calling you, and calling you some more? Me not trying to talk to you?”
He didn’t answer, and whether that was because he borderline fainted or because he knew I was right, I had no fucking idea. Mostly because I didn’t give him the chance to talk because I kept going.
“You never answered, Jonah. And I left you… oh, I don’t know… a dozen messages too. I did that until you stopped checking your voice mail and let it get full and stay full.”
Jonah Collins brought both hands up to palm his forehead.
Why didn’t I tell him? He was either a master liar, an asshole, or just… a jackass. I wasn’t done though. “There were the texts too. It might have gotten old deleting every email I sent you, but I did try to contact you until right after she was born. So… I did try and tell you. Don’t try and turn this around on me.”
I thought about his words for a moment, watching his palms scrub over his forehead as he forced one loud, ragged breath after another.
Was he having a panic attack? He wasn’t straight-up wheezing, but it wasn’t much off. What a fucking asshole.
I stared at him, my anger rising. “Is that what you’re trying to imply? That you either didn’t care enough to listen to my voice mails, read my texts, or my emails? That you didn’t know?” I told him on a whoosh, my stomach clenching up in pure fucking fury that almost made me want to throw up. On him.
Because it had pissed me off when I thought he didn’t care enough to reply, but the possibility he hadn’t listened or read a single fucking thing I’d sent him over nearly nine months, might have honestly been worse.
I wasn’t going to overanalyze it and figure out what won because it didn’t matter.
I didn’t look at him, and because I didn’t look at him, I didn’t see his reactions.
The only thing of his that I did catch was probably the hoarse curse word he spit out. “Fuck.”
He could say that again.
Why was he making it seem like he didn’t know? I’d left him so many voice mails, emails, and texts. So many. And he wanted me to believe he had either not gotten them or ignored every single one?
Motherfucker.
Piece of shit.
Asshole.
Of course this would happen to me. The one time I picked out a guy who I felt comfortable with, who I was unbelievably attracted to, who I liked so much, who seemed like a decent human being… who wore a condom and everything… knocked me up during the two months of almost nightly sex we’d had. Then his life had gone to hell, and he’d disappeared.