Back to Me (Book Three ✓)

seven

BEAU

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I shove my fists through my hair, nearly pulling out the grown in strands. How did I let this happen? We'd been careful - hadn't we? My brain rushes to recall every time I'd had sex with Emma, but instantly the ache in my chest reminds me that it's a bad idea.

My cuticles are bloody as my longing for nail polish grows even more. Too many thoughts buzz around my head, making it impossible to concentrate on anything but the frenzied way my lungs are struggling for air. It feels like the little room is a hundred degrees and my skin is clammy.

"Beau?" Dr. Williams steady voice reaches me somehow, pulling my gaze and my focus onto his face - the picture of calm. "Tell me what's going on."

History has a way of repeating itself.

I startle in the leather armchair of the counseling room, my father's voice as clear in my mind as if he were speaking just beside me. Too shaken to speak, I hand Emma's letter over to Dex, the page wobbling in my fingers.

I stare at him intently as he reads the words that ripped the ground from under me just moments ago, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. A baby? Me - a dad? I scoff to myself, furiously shaking my head and pulling at the skin on my thumb.

"Well." Dex folds the sheet in half and places it on the table between us. "Not to be cliché, Beau, but how do you feel about that?" His eyes trail down to my hands, the blood trickling down my finger.

Pissed off? Overwhelmed? In shock? "Dizzy," I mutter, setting my head into my hands. The scorching heat at the back of my throat is flamed by this new information and my mouth is dry. Scared.

"A pregnancy can be overwhelming in any situation,"  Dex settles into his chair, propping his glasses on his nose and assuming his shrink position.

"What about this situation, Dex?" I snap, glaring at him even though I'm not sure why. Memories from somewhere deep threaten to spill over into the forefront of my mind - where I'll have to actually face them, and I push back against them stubbornly. "What words would you use to describe Emma and I getting pregnant, hm? A shit show? A disaster? Fucking impossible?"

Dr. Williams sighs, letting me have my tantrum, before he purses his lips at me. "Some would call it a blessing."

"A fucking idiot would, that's who." I growl, shoving from the couch to pace behind it, too much adrenaline running through my veins. Fire licks up the back of my throat ruthlessly and I clench my fists, tempted to shove one through the thin wall. Emma, full with my child, laughs in my mind, pregnant Zoey beside her, leaning her head on Beck's shoulder. The image almost makes me gag.

"Beau, is something else the matter? I know this wasn't planned and there's certainly a lot to think about, but you seem... very unsettled." Dex leans forward in his chair, eyes trained on me as I stomp back and forth in the small room.

"Emma is fucking pregnant!" Without realizing it, I'm shouting, probably loud enough so that anyone in the hall can hear. "And I can't even be around her anymore because it's not healthy for either of us. How am I going to raise a fucking kid with her? Or at all?" I exhale and sink to the floor, my back against the door of the room. "I'm a mess, Dex."

"You're almost three months sober, Beau. That's much better than where you were three months ago. Give yourself some credit and maybe get real with yourself. This baby, if you guys choose to have it, deserves you to have yourself together." Dr. Williams keeps his tone even. "But so do you."