A big bottle of Jack. With a side of Jack. And some more Jack to chase it all down.

But the Gatorade was there to quench his thirst for things he didn’t need or even truly want. He wanted an out, an easy fix, but he knew that there was no fucking easy fix for his mother. He couldn’t understand why someone would treat her child like that, but Stacey Thomas was a whole other level of being. A different species that he didn’t understand, nor want in his life. He was done, and he would make damn sure she never came near him again. Not only for him but for his unborn child.

Biting the inside of his cheek, he watched as Kacey took off his jacket and hung it on the back of the barstool before setting her clutch on the seat. When he reached for another Gatorade, he saw her face twist in worry before she looked away, he knew, to fight her tears. She didn’t know what to do, what to say, and he was thankful for that. He needed to get his head straight before he talked to her, before he admitted that his mother had broken his heart and he wasn’t sure how to put it back together.

She reached for him and he didn’t move as she wrapped herself around him, going under his arm so that she could place her face on his chest. She smelled so good, but he couldn’t hold her. Not yet. He knew if he did, he’d come undone, and he already felt so weak. He couldn’t give her any more of a reason to feel sorry for him. He was the man, he was supposed to be strong, but what he wanted was to wrap his arms around her and just cry.

Pulling in a deep breath through his nose, he closed his eyes and let her hug him. He needed her strength, her love. He let his chin rest on her head as he kept his eyes shut and his breathing even. When his phone went off, he didn’t move, his hands still braced against the counter, not only for support but to keep him upright. But then it went off again and again before, finally, she looked up at him.

“Someone is trying hard to get ahold of you.”

He nodded, his eyes locked on the wall above her head. “It’s either my therapist, your dad, or your brother.”

“Do you want me to answer it?”

He shrugged. “You can. Tell them I’m alive.”

But not that he was okay, because he wasn’t. Far from it.

When she pulled his phone out of his pocket, he looked down and saw that the text was from her father.

Karl King: You good?

Karl King: I know you left. She posted a nasty status about you.

And then he sent a screenshot of Stacey Thomas’s Facebook.

Don’t you love when your kid tells you you’re the reason he’s fucked up? Biggest waste of my time was having that brat. Anyone that knows him knows his issues aren’t mine and that I’m not in the wrong here.

While the status was just uncalled for, what blew his mind was that two people liked it.

What the hell was wrong with the world?

He looked away, shaking his head as she typed back quickly before setting his phone down and wrapping her arms around him again. Closing his eyes, he leaned on her head and was unsure what to do next. He knew that he had to do something, tell her something. Talk about it all, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be reminded of having the worst mother known to man. A woman who didn’t want him. Who didn’t care about him. In a way, he’d set himself up for failure. He should never have gone. He knew going in that he would more than likely leave with heartache.

His assumptions had been right on.

As Kacey squeezed him, he closed his eyes again as she suggested, “Why don’t we go to bed?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

He turned from her arms and left the kitchen, not even waiting for her. As he walked through their home, he wanted to take notice of all she had done. Kacey—well, Lacey and Regina—had really turned their house into a home. While there weren’t as many pictures of her and Jordie as he’d like, they were working on it. Even planned to go do a little couples’ shoot with Harper Titov, Elli’s best friend, who did everyone’s pictures. But a part of him wondered if he should even care about that.

Would she even want him when she realized how weak he was?

Going into their bedroom, he heard her moving around in the kitchen, probably cleaning up and getting Gretzky taken care of as he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the chair that she said was her thinking chair. He hadn’t seen her sit in it yet, and it held more clothes than it ever had her butt for thinking, but who was he to say anything? Maybe he should have sat in the thinking chair and really rethought going to see his mother. Disgusted with himself, he threw off his slacks, tossing those too on the thinking chair as she entered the room, looking so damn worried that it killed him.

She didn’t need this stress. She was carrying their child, and he needed to get his shit together before he lost both of them because of his stupidity. Pulling the sheets back, he went to get in before she stopped him.

“Can you unzip me?” she asked, and when he looked over at her, he noticed her little sex-kitten look. He knew what she was doing, and any other time, he would have stripped her down and plowed into her, but not tonight. Without answering her, he stepped behind her, moving her hair before unzipping her dress and then climbing into the bed. He felt her gaze on him, but he ignored it, cuddling deeper into the bed as she moved around the room, doing her thing.

When she finally climbed into bed, she hit the light and then turned to face him, the moonlight shining on her beautiful face. As he looked deep into her dark eyes, he knew he wasn’t being the best man he could be for her. She was freaking out, working her lip, and he could feel the tension, the worry, rolling off her in waves. He had promised to do right by her, not only to Karson but to Karl too. Plus, he loved this girl. He didn’t want her to worry.