Crashed

“I’m not in the mood for your melodramatic bullshit so cut the crap.” Colton takes a step farther into the room. “You know you’re not welcome here, Tawny. If I wanted you here before, I would’ve invited you myself.”

I shrink back at the venom lacing his voice, but at the same time, I’m pissed. Pissed that she just waltzed in here—a home where I’m the only woman he’s ever brought—like she deserves to be here.

“Testy, testy,” she scolds playfully, unfazed by his complete disinterest. “I was so concerned about you and how you’re doing and if you’ve gotten your memory back yet that—”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about your concern! You have two seconds. Start talking or I’m throwing your ass out.” Colton takes another step toward her and I can see his grinding jaw and his complete callous disregard for her.

“Just because you’re pissed your recovery is going so slow—that you can’t remember important things—doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me.” Tawny lets out a condescending laugh and turns slightly to look over at me with disbelief in her eyes as if she’s saying “Really? He’s picked you over me?” before she says, “I’m sure this is amusing to you being his nursemaid and all, doll, but you’re no longer needed.”

I’m off the wall in an instant, a ball of anger flying at her, but Colton beats me to the punch. Rage emanates off of him in palpable waves as he grips her bicep. “Time to go!” he growls out as he starts to direct her toward the door. “You don’t come into my house and disrespect, Ry—”

“I’m pregnant.”

The words that float out of her mouth die in the sudden silence of the room, and yet I can see them vibrating within Colton. His body stops, fingers flex on her arm, and teeth grind. It takes a beat for him to catch his stride again, pulling her toward the front door.

“Good for you. Congrats.” He bites out, sarcasm dripping from his words. “Nice knowing ya.” He starts to open the front door as she yanks her arm free.

“It’s yours.”

Colton’s hand stills on the doorknob as my heart twists at the words coming from her lips. I’m watching this unfold—all of it right before my eyes—but I feel like a complete outsider, a hundred miles away. I watch his head sag down between his shoulders for a beat, notice his hands clench in fists at his sides, see the fury rage in his eyes as he turns ever so slowly around. His eyes dart over and hold mine for a beat, and what I see knocks the wind out of me. It’s not the rage they glisten with—no—it’s the disbelief laced apology he’s offering up to me. The apology that tells me deep down he fears her words are true. Lead drops into my stomach as the mask he’s let slip is reapplied, and he turns to direct his anger toward Tawny.

“You and I both know that’s not possible, Tawny.” He takes a step forward and I can see every ounce of restraint he has—how he’s trying so hard to not pick her up and physically throw her out. His eyes dart from her face to her stomach and then back up again.

“What?” she gasps, shock laced with hurt in her voice. “You don’t remember?” She holds a hand to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. “Colton you and I … the night of Davis’ birthday party … you don’t remember that?”

My stomach wrenches because if I thought she might be acting—playing the part to get him back—she just stole the show with the hurt look on her face and desperation in her voice.

Oh my God. Oh my God. It’s my only coherent thought because my entire body trembles with every imaginable emotion possible.

“No,” Colton says, shaking his head back and forth, and the look on his face—the one that says if he keeps repeating no over and over this will all just be a nightmare—kills me. Tears into parts deep inside of me opening me up, preparing me for the onslaught of hurt to come.

“It’s the only possibility,” she says quietly, placing her hand over her midsection where I can see the slight bump now that her shirt is smoothed down. “I’m five months, baby.”

I have to fight the bile that rises in my throat as my faith falters. I have to force myself to breathe. To focus. To realize that this isn’t about me. That this is about Colton’s worst nightmare coming true on the heels of a truly magical night between us. But it’s hard not to.

All my mind can focus on is dates—days past—as her words sink their claws into me. Five months, five months, five months, I repeat over and over because time is so much easier to focus on than the world that’s just been shifted beneath my feet. When my mind can formulate coherent thoughts again, I realize it’s been a little shy of five months since we met. Fuck, it’s possible.

I tell myself she’s lying. That she’s trying to dig her hooks into Colton—catch the prize she wants more than anything—by pulling the I’m pregnant card. The oldest one in the book. But the evidence is there in her swollen belly and the terrified look on Colton’s face says it’s a possibility—that he’s reaching deep within the locked vault of memories and trying to find the one she’s telling him about. Fear flickers across his face, embeds itself in those eyes of his that all of a sudden refuse to look at me.

And no matter how much I want to, I can’t look away. It’s like if I keep staring at him, he’s going to look up at me and give me that smile he gave me moments ago in the pool and she’ll just disappear.