I feel guilty for complaining, but then I think about the fact that I’m about to burst after carrying this baby for the past nine months and try to give myself a little bit of grace. Lost in thought and flustered at trying to keep everything together before I even get into the office, I’m not paying much attention to where I’m walking.
I run right into what feels like a solid brick wall, my notebooks flying from my arms, and my bag in the opposite direction. My knee jerks up in reaction, as I try and keep myself upright.
“Shit,” I hear a deep, low baritone cursing then a deep groan, as I shake my head and try and figure out what in the hell just happened.
I push my hair back from my face and immediately squat down to pick everything up then begin apologizing for not paying attention to where I’m going. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying att-”
“Maddison?”
My gaze lifts to the man squatting down in front of me, and my stomach plummets. The flustered feeling I was just experiencing turns to dread, and my mouth goes dry.
No. No. No.
This is not happening.
I swallow thickly, then stand on my wobbly heels.
"Briggs,” I whisper.
I’m shocked and angry all over again, and the urge to punch him right in the dick hits me square in the gut. The same time, there's a hard kick to my abdomen from my little girl, probably warning me that giving birth in an actual prison cell is not part of our birth plan.
“Holy shit… You’re here. I’ve looked… I’ve been looking for you for almost a year,” he says quietly. His hand is still on my arm where he reached out to steady me. I rip it away like I’ve been burned, and I guess… I have been burned. One too many times by Briggs Wilson, and this conversation, it’s not happening.
He’s a liar, and I refuse to listen to this.
Fixing my blazer, I pull it tighter over my stomach, still silent when his light blue eyes drop down to my belly and widen.
“Wow,” he breathes, his face a mask of shock. “You’re pregnant. Really pregnant.” The confusion in his words only annoys me further.
What an asshole.
I scoff. “Get out of my way, Briggs.”
I brush past him to retrieve my discarded bag, but almost topple over with the basketball connected to my front. These heels are going to put me on my ass if I don’t get home soon. Suddenly, I feel strong hands at my waist, and when I look back, Briggs is standing far too close to me, his hands leaving me recoiling from his touch.
“Do not touch me,” I all but spit.
The anger in my veins is palpable, I can feel it radiating off me in waves, and I hope he can feel it. I, no we, don’t want anything to do with him, not now, not ever.
“Woah, why are you so angry, Maddison? What’s wrong?” The sincerity in his tone causes me to pause and look up. His brow is furrowed in confusion, and he looks so genuine, for a second, I almost believe him, and then I remember what he did, and the choice that he made.
“Don’t you dare sit here and insult me this way by acting like you didn’t know I was pregnant.” Fury laces my words and I realize I was speaking much louder than intended when several eyes dart our way. I lower my voice. “Now please, get out of my way.”
His brow furrows deeper, creating a crease between his piercing eyes, then he glances down at my protruding stomach and back up at me.
“Holy fuck… Wait… I-… we were together ten months ago… at the inn… you left before I-” He’s saying it out loud, but it seems to be more for himself, as if he’s connecting unseen dots.
I remember vividly the day that he changed my life forever, and I don’t mean the night he got me pregnant. The day that he signed his child away without even having the courage to look me in the eye as he did so. I thought at that moment that Briggs Wilson was out of my life, for good, and we were better off without him.
So, imagine my shock, and anger, seeing him here. Even if I wasn’t exhausted, achy in all of the wrong places, and very, very pregnant, I still wouldn’t be in the mood for this.
I suck in a deep breath that seems to give me the strength to step closer to Briggs, into his space. So close I smell the light scent of his aftershave, and everything that Briggs is. Clean cedar with a splash of citrus. I’d know it anywhere as it lingered in my memory for months after that weekend, and I cursed him daily for changing the way those three things smelled forever.
There were a lot of things that changed forever, after that night.
I lift my chin to look up at him. “I’m not sure what the hell your problem is, or if you think this is some sick joke, but I’ve got nothing to say to you, had I not made that perfectly clear already. I guess I shouldn’t be shocked that you, of all people, can’t take something like this seriously. This isn’t a joke Briggs. This is my life, my daughter’s life, all of which you decided not to be a part of.” I lower my voice into a hushed whisper, “You made your choice and that’s fine with me. We don’t need you. I just want you to leave us alone, like you promised.”
Briggs’ eyes widen and his face morphs into a mask of shock as his jaw drops slightly. “Wait, hold up-” he starts, but I don’t bother standing here a second longer to hear what he has to say. I hoist my bag up on my shoulder, lift my chin higher and brush past him toward the office.
The entire conversation has shaken me to my core. I’m in complete shock about how unexpected it was to actually come face to face with the man who broke my heart before it was really even his to break. My hand trembles as I press it to my stomach, trying to ground myself. Tears threaten to spill, and I refuse to give him this.
To let him see me cry. He doesn’t deserve my tears.
“Maddison, wait,” he calls after me, but I walk faster, ignoring him.
Just as I’m pulling the door to the office open, a hand envelops my arm and lightly pulls. I look back at Briggs, his eyes are full of… something I can’t place, and I’ve had enough.
“Let me go,” I hiss.
“Please, just give me five minutes. Just five minutes, Maddison, please.” he pleads. “I’m so fucking lost.”
I can’t tell you why I stop, or even why I decide to grant him the five minutes he’s asking for. It’s not as if he deserves it, and it’s not like the anger I just felt isn’t still coursing through my veins. Maybe it’s the fact that somewhere deep down, burrowed and nestled into the dark, singed part of my heart, is a place that’s all his.
Regardless of whether he deserves it or not.
My eyes hold his gaze, searching for something to detect his intentions, whether they’re genuine or not, but in the end, I simply nod. “Five minutes.”
“Five minutes.”
I brush past him to the small bench in the courtyard. I’m desperate to sit for a moment and give my feet a reprieve from these heels. When I sit on the small concrete bench, I don’t expect Briggs to take the seat next to me, but he does.
“Maddison, I didn’t know you were pregnant.”
His words sink in, causing unease and rage to form in the pit of my stomach. “How can you sit here and look me in the eye and lie to me when you couldn’t even look at me when you signed those papers.”