𝖠𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗑𝗂𝖺 | 𝖬𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖺𝖾𝗅 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖽𝗈𝗇

Chapter Seventeen

"Listen to me, you stubborn girl, you don't scare me. You don't intimidate me. There's no way I'm backing out of this now. I love you."

Pregnant.

Pregnant?

Pregnant!

It was all he could think about. He couldn't stop thinking about the word. Michael was in a state of shock, but finally hearing some sort of explanation for her behavior was at least a piece of relief. But if she was pregnant, that meant there was another man. She had a boyfriend, or a husband, or a— whatever.

Michael had spent his weekend shit face plastered, thinking of Jo the whole time. How would he face her? What would he say? He had no experience in this field whatsoever. And if she was involved with someone, that meant he couldn't have her. Someone else had her, and that made him extremely uncomfortable.

He had so many questions. And as much as he knew she hated to be interrogated, he wasn't going to be able to help himself. So here he was, waiting in the parking lot for her to pull in. He hurriedly got out of his car when she pulled into the lot, slamming the door as he walked over to her vehicle. Her eyes were on his when she opened her door, grabbing her purse without looking.

They said nothing, looking at each other as she shut the car door. He couldn't help but look down at her belly. She must of just found out, he figured, because she wasn't showing at all. He found himself speechless, admiring just how beautiful she was. It was unfair someone so gorgeous was so sad. He assumed she wasn't happy about the pregnancy.

The two both walked inside without a word. Michael held the door for her, admiring her figure from the back shamelessly. When they got to her desk, he could no longer keep silent.

"Are you not happy about it?" He looked at her.

"About what?" She furrowed her brow.

"The..." He found himself struggling to say the word. "The baby."

She stiffened, looking down to her desk. "Uh- Mr. Langdon, I don't-"

"Michael." He interrupted, shaking his head. "Call me, Michael."

She rubbed her face tiredly, too tired to deal with any of this. "Michael, I don't want to talk about this."

He should respect her privacy. He knew he should, but since when did he ever respect it?

"But-"

"Please." She begged with full eyes. "I really, really don't want to discuss this. I shouldn't have even said anything. Please, just try to forget I even told you."

There was no way he could do that and she knew it.

Michael clenched his fist till it ached, contemplating what to do. He took a step forward. "Let me take you out to lunch today."

"What?" She sighed. "Michael, that's not a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because we can't." She strained. "I told you that we can't."

He couldn't help but roll his eyes, shaking his head. "It's just lunch, Garner. I won't kiss you."

She blushed at the word. He didn't miss it. Sitting back in her chair, pale and exhausted, she nodded softly. "Alright."

He smirked, tapping the desk between them. "Great. It's a date."

•

"Get anything you want. It's on me." Michael placed his menu on the table, waving over their waiter with a finger.

"I can pay for myself." Jo muttered, scanning over the prices she knew she could barely afford.

"You're very adamant, you know." He raised his brows, small smirk in the corner of his pink lips. "Stubborn. Never thought I'd get you to go out on a date with me."

"This isn't a date." She pursed her lips. "I told you this wasn't a good idea. We shouldn't-"

"Relax, relax," He chuckled. "It was a joke."

She obviously didn't find it funny, making his smirk fall. Jo looked around the restaurant, intimidated by the expensive looking cutlery and decorations.

Michael sighed, swallowing uncomfortably at her silence. "Look, Garner, I know you don't..want to talk about...you know, but you've gotta give me something."

She didn't look at him, lips etched into a permanent frown. She sighed heavily, glancing up at the waiter. She ordered a salad without care, not seeming to have much of an appetite.

"Who's the father?" He found himself saying.

"It doesn't matter." She said quickly. "It's not important."

"Is he your boyfriend?" He pushed, laying a hand on the table.

"No, no," She couldn't believe she was saying any of this. "We're not involved."

He found himself relieved, taking a sip of his red wine. "Are you-"

"Michael, please." She squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't talk about this stuff, okay?"

"Why?" He snipped. "Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

"Because it's none of your business!" She raised her voice. "You're not my boyfriend, Michael."

"But I'm your friend," He rested his arm on the table. "Friends tell each other stuff."

She really misses drinking during times like these, and she turned her head to look out the window, trying her best to ignore the ache in her heart. She sighed heavily, shaking her head. "You don't understand."

"Understand what?" He asked.

"Have you..." She started. "Have you ever had a secret that you couldn't tell? Something you couldn't even tell your best friend?" Her eyes were misting over despite her best efforts to keep from crying. "Well, my life is just too complicated, Michael. It's too complicated for friends or- or lunch dates. I just..I can't risk ruining the stability that I've worked so hard to make. I have responsibilities. You don't understand."

Michael's blue eyes stared into her's, wheels turning in her head. With each passing day she became more of a mystery to him. "Who am I going to tell?" He said softly.

She blinked away her tears, swallowing back a cry that she wanted to let out. But she'd cried one too many times in front of him, she didn't plan on continuing it.

"You have bruises." He said matter of factly. "You try to hide them but I see them."

"Michael," She strained. "I told you, no one is hurting me. I'm just clumsy."

"I don't believe you." He shook his head.

"That's not my fault." She defended. "You have trust issues."

"And so do you."

They both looked at each other, a stare off. One pair was firm, the other was glowing with unshed tears.

"Just..." Michael clenched his fist. "Give me a chance, okay? I want to be your friend. Maybe you can learn to trust me. Maybe we both can."

She didn't want to talk about it anymore, so she gave a slow nod just to get him to shut up. "Alright, okay. Just stop interrogating me, okay? If I want to tell you something I will."

He couldn't help but smile, giving a solid nod. "Deal."