Impossible by Allyson Young

Author:Allyson Young [Young, Allyson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

“Pregnant?” Cynthia breathed the word, but it sounded like a shriek, accompanied as it was by her raised brows and defined pallor. “Pregnant?”

“Six weeks.” First babies were usually late, according to that book, but she was always impatient, so people wouldn’t question her being a week off of her due date.

“Pregnant.” Her sister swallowed. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone. You never … see anyone.”

True. She hooked up. On occasion. Discreetly. “I obviously saw someone, Cyn.”

Hectic color now painted her sister’s cheeks. “When do we meet him?”

She had her shit tighter today, the Ronnie test behind her. “You don’t. He doesn’t want any part of this.”

“But… But it’s his baby.” Cynthia’s lashes fluttered in a vain attempt to hold back tears. Celeste’s welled in sympathetic reaction. Dammit.

“Some men just aren’t … paternal.” She couldn’t fucking well breathe.

“You’re crying. Oh, my God. Your heart’s broken.” Cyn lunged forward and gathered Celeste close, and for a precious second, she allowed it, scenting her sister’s familiar Patchouli, the welcoming swell of her chest.

Her stomach rebelled and she struggled free. “Sorry, I can’t do smells.”

“What? Oh. Oh. Okay, no more perfumes. Everything unscented.”

“You do that now, Cyn. For the kids. Patchouli’s your rare indulgence. I’ll get past it.” And have a reason to avoid hugs.

Instantly, she chastised herself. She had to get over this thing she had about allowing touch. She wasn’t averse, simply unworthy. That thought smacked her upside the head like a metaphorical brick. She most definitely was worthy. Maybe her parents didn’t think so, but her sister did, and Ronnie, and a couple of other folks she knew. Her baby didn’t need that vibe. She channeled Cyn’s earth mother. Breathe in. And out.

“How’re the kids?”

Cynthia embarked on a discourse of school and daycare and extracurricular activities. As far as Celeste could tell, even the baby had special events to attend. No one would know Alex and Taylor weren’t theirs, the way they were included. Culturally, yes, because people saw physical differences, but those kids were family in every other way.

She listened avidly to take mental notes, also pleased she’d diverted her sister from the question of the baby’s father and the state of her heart. She’d walled off that sadness into its own little section, determined not to let it encroach on an innocent’s life.

“What’s his name?”

Crap. “Who?”

“The father, Celeste. And don’t give me that look. I know that look. I used it on you growing up. It’s that how can I distract from the question look.”

“I’m keeping that to myself.” She held up a hand. “So give it up.”

“I don’t want to know out of prurient interest, sis. Just to … I don’t know, get a picture of my niece or nephew.”

She was having a girl. That would reduce the likelihood of anyone seeing the child and somehow making a connection between her and the father. She’d also decided not to use his name even in her own head for fear of it slipping out.

Not to say she hadn’t wakened this morning with it on her lips, her hand again between her legs.

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