Having Nathan's Baby Read Online Free PDF

leaves; every time I tried to sift through for information, it became even more of a mess. “I guess a week ago, properly. I took a test a few days before that,” I said, unable to advance beyond monotone.
    “What would you have done if I hadn’t been in New York?”
    I stopped searching. His tone was light but I heard the accusation in it. My expression tensed. “I know how to book a plane ticket,” I said.
    His gaze narrow ed, he averted it to the bottle for a moment. He looked handsome, but tired under the sharp overhead lights, his bone structure jutting harshly against his skin. He blew air out of his mouth. “It’s unbelievable, if you think about it. We were together for six years, and we weren’t always careful. Then one stupid night...” He shook his head.
    “Are you seeing anyone?” I blurted the words, belatedly glad that the rising sound from the kettle went some way to covering the tremor in my voice.
    “Not really.”
    I stared at him, careful to keep my expression even. Not really? What in God’s name did ‘not really’ mean?
    His expression was equally bland. “Are you?”
    I turned back to my search for mugs. “No, not really.”
    “What does that mean?” he asked immediately.
    Pique assailed me. “What did it mean when you said it?” I finally found a cupboard full of white porcelain mugs. They sat in a uniform line. I pulled one out, left a gaping hole like a missing tooth.
    “I’m saying I’ve been on tour and I haven’t been a saint,” he said, and his tone was so low it rasped. “Is there any chance this kid isn’t mine?”
    I exhaled harshly. The cup scraped against the counter. “That’s not what I said.” God, why had I even tried to bait him? It had been a stupid impulse. Water sloshed over the counter as I filled the empty mug. “Do you have any tea bags?”
    “How would I know?”
    I turned, the drink forgotten. “Why would I bother telling you if it was someone else’s? I’m not exactly expecting you to step up and marry me, or-”
    “Then why b other telling me at all if you don’t need my help?” he asked.
    “Because-” I paused. Why was I telling him again? “I didn’t say that. Besides, you have a right to know-”
    “You’re damn ed right I have a right to know,” he cut in. He got up and stalked over to the sink. The remainder of the beer in the bottle glugged as he poured it into the sink. The sound echoed around the room. Once it was empty, he leaned on the counter and stared outside at the inky black nothingness.
    He remained still for a tense beat. “What are you going to do?” he asked finally, and turned to me.
    “ About what?” I snapped.
    He leaned back, searching for words. “About everything,” he said eventually. “This baby; your job…”
    What was I going to do about everything? I stared at him in shock for a moment. Was he trying to tell me, in his own emotionally retarded way, that this pregnancy was my problem? What the hell was I doing in Vermont, then?
    I watched him for a second until it became apparent he wasn’t going to embellish his question. Anger swirled in my stomach. I turned and poured more hot water into the mug, my eyes still darting around fruitlessly for something to make tea with. He was acting as if I’d made this goddamn baby without involving him. I was here, wasn’t I? Stuck in Vermont for two days just because he’d decreed it! The first thing I’d done when I’d discovered I was pregnant was try to track him down, even if I hadn’t wanted to.
    My mind swirled with arguments; this was my body, my life, and ultimately my decision – but it wasn’t my problem alone! I should have waited, I thought feverishly; decided what to do on my own before contacting him. Yet I’d approached him first, and now he was holding it over me as though I were responsible for this entire mess!
    I felt tearful suddenly, persecuted. I opened a few other cupboards, blindly searching for tea. My hands shook a little