Having Adam's Baby. Christyne Butler
I mentioned it to Dad during our weekly phone calls he said the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. Then again, seeing the two of you together—”
“You only saw me carry her up the stairs. What the hell are you talking about?”
His father motioned Adam to follow him away from the door and down the hall. As much as he didn’t want to, he went, his brother at his side.
“Son, during your last visit home in April I headed for your place early, wanting to spend some one-on-one time with you before we took you to the airport. Then I saw Fay’s van in your driveway and hightailed it back home.”
Every muscle in Adam’s body stilled, even his heart for a moment. Then it began to slam inside his chest.
“You’ve always had a thing for her,” Nolan added.
Adam’s gaze shot to his brother, who only shrugged and continued. “Hey, I remember you telling me what happened between you two. Down by the river? The night of your twenty-first birthday?”
“Geez, that was years ago,” Adam said. “We were just kids.”
“Besides, between Dad and me we’ve been through this nine times—”
“Through what?”
“If we didn’t know any better, your brother and I would both swear Fay is pregnant.” His father once again placed a hand on his shoulder. “What happened that night? Is it possible you’re the father?”
Pregnant?
His father’s soft words exploded inside Adam’s head. He braced himself, his posture ramrod straight against his father’s touch, but the detonation continued, a powerful roar that flowed outward until it reached every inch of his body.
He’d felt this way only twice before in his life, most recently just a few short weeks ago when he’d had the harrowing experience of barely missing an IED—or improvised explosive device—that thankfully exploded after their transport of construction equipment had passed and was a few precious miles away.
Adam tried to form the word he hadn’t spoken in five long years, but he couldn’t put the syllables together aloud. That didn’t stop the utterance from vibrating inside his head again.
Pregnant?
Because of the night they spent together?
He’d insisted they use protection, both times, even after Fay had whispered something about it not being necessary as she couldn’t get …
Fay being sick yesterday morning at his place. The way she held one hand protectively over her stomach. The paleness of her skin, the tiredness in her eyes.
The way she pulled from his touch.
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