Until November

Chapter 3

Jocelyn

Someone pick my jaw up off the floor and sew it shut. What in the hell? My heart is mistaken. Rich is wrong. I stare at him like he's the one who just gave birth. "I-I'm sorry?" I trip over my own words. I look at Ben but he's useless standing there with such venom in his gaze that I have the sense to focus on Rich.

Rich's bushy eyebrows knit together as he takes in the two of us. "I know it's a lot to take in, so let me continue." He focuses on Ben, rightly so, though I do have a few questions of my own. "Ben will have primary guardianship during this time and at the end of it, he has first rights to continue that role, if he chooses."

"Which I won't," Ben says quickly.

Rich's solemn, closed-mouth smile turns to me. "If Ben chooses not to assert that responsibility or he is unable, you have second rights to make that choice. If both of you forfeit this request, the baby will immediately go into the hands of social services and then into the adoption process. All I need from both of you-before the baby arrives-is both your signatures agreeing to Jack and Hannah's request." He taps his finger again. "On this document."

"Rich," Ben interrupts, "could we speak privately?"

Rich nods with a hefty sigh, looking at me.

"Of course," I say and make my way over to the plush couches littered with decorative pillows. At least I get why Rich wouldn't tell me Ben's identity before he arrived.

They go upstairs. A door closes and I lean back against the couch, my heart rate still high and flying with this news. This is the longest thirty minutes of my life. I still haven't gotten over the fact that Ben Ryan is Jack Winfield's brother, which feels like a tiny finger prick compared to the news that this baby's future is dependent on Ben and I becoming...roommates? Living with a stranger? Raising this baby temporarily and then deciding on its future? The questions are a heavy fog swirling in my brain. All I want to do is cry.

I'm allowed to be angry at the dead. "What were you thinking?" I lift my voice to the elevated ceiling in this sacred home where soon-to-be parents were stripped of their right to live and see the baby they had gone through such lengths to bring into this world. I rest my head against the couch, my hands smoothing over my large belly, my skin stretched and maxed out even more every day.

Ben asked to speak with Rich privately, leaving me to sit in an oversized leather chair staring at unopened baby presents stacked on the fireplace. Footsteps sound overhead. I look up at the ceiling. A door opens, more footsteps and low voices. Rich and Ben make their way down the stairs as my disbelieving gaze goes to Ben. His eyes are rimmed in red, but he doesn't give me a passing glance. He goes straight for the kitchen.

I do a weird pregnancy roll to get to my feet. I thought the person who walked through that door would have had a different reaction-overflowing with love and loss. Ben is all scowl and his eyes are like a closed, locked, deadbolted door with only faint evidence that he had been crying while talking to Rich.

Now I have an angry athlete making my worst fears about this situation come true. The second, equally bigger nightmare is what's supposed to happen. Ben already stated he wouldn't consider the contract. Not that I will either. I won't. "I should go," I say quickly, determined to let the news settle in private where I can collect my thoughts and figure out what questions to ask Rich without Ben around.

I don't even know where to begin.

"No." Ben's voice is swift, his gaze slices at me. "Stay. We have things to discuss." He turns to Rich. "I'll take that drink now."

"Glasses are in the cabinet by the refrigerator." Rich nods in the general direction and grabs a blue folder from the stack of documents on the counter. "Everything we spoke about is here. I'll send it home with you."