For a moment, he was sure that it must be a girl, that John was getting booty called, but it was six in the morning. And it wasn’t like it would be any of Brett’s business even so. But how long would it take before the pain faded enough that he could think about John with someone else without feeling the most intense, cramping sense of jealousy deep in the pit of his belly?
“Madison,” John commented, and Brett frowned. That name was familiar. Had John mentioned her? “Are you okay? Is everything …” his voice trailed off, and Brett, though he knew that he had no right to do it and that he really shouldn’t do it, eavesdropped shamelessly. Madison. The woman that was carrying John’s child, Brett finally connected the pieces.
Brett’s fingers tingled, almost itching with the urge to reach out and touch John, to offer what comfort he could, but he and John were hardly a comfort to each other right at the moment. So he just listened.
“Of course. I’ll meet you at the hospital. Take care of yourself, I’ll be there to hold your hand, and you can scream at me and tell me it’s all my fault,” John told her, and Brett even heard the laughter on the other end of the line. The jealousy cramps increased.
John ended the call and then turned to Brett.
“I have to go to the hospital,” he commented, as though it was just a normal day for him, but there was tension in his neck and shoulders. “You wouldn’t want to come along, would you? It might be sort of boring, Madison’s water has broken, but I hear that it can take a while.”
Brett shook his head. Why would he be there? What support could he really be, with things so awkward between them? The sex the night before had only cemented that for him. He sort of wished that he was the sort of man who could be big enough to give John away to his new life, but really, he felt like he was only seconds away from screaming at John and John didn’t need that. Nor did Madison.
“No, I have to work,” he commented, and he was about ninety percent sure that it was even true. On the day before Christmas, someone was going to call in, and Brett would be only too willing to go.
“Okay. Then I’ll see you later,” John told him like it didn’t matter much to him either way. He got dressed and headed for the door, pausing just at the doorway and not even looking back as he spoke. “When the baby’s born, we’re going to have to talk.”
And then he was gone, and all Brett could do to keep himself from running after him was curl up in the fading warmth on the bed where John’s body had just been resting and struggle with everything that he had in him not to give in to the tears.
