Free Mending by R. L. Griffin

Chapter One
    Defying the Odds
    Oh. My. Shit.
    Oh. My. Shit.
     
    She was going to have a baby. She couldn’t have a baby. They’d told her she couldn't have a baby . A baby . She didn't want a baby. A baby . The bathroom in her office building swirled around her and she stuffed the five different unused pregnancy tests into her oversized purse. Stella threw the two used ones into the trash and tossed at least ten paper towels in to cover the evidence. Holy shit . This had to be some sort of mistake. Stella strode into her office in a fog of uncertainty—she couldn’t possibly be pregnant. Her phone rang and she answered without even looking to see who it was calling.
    "Stella Murphy," she said softly into the phone.
    "Hey, Stella. You okay?" Jesse’s boisterous voice came through the line and made her smile despite her baffling situation.
    Stella tucked her hair behind her ear and sighed. "Pretty fucking far from okay. Where should I start?” She put her purse on her file cabinet and sat in her chair in a huff. She didn’t need a baby; she’d be the worst mother ever. She couldn’t even do a relationship, let alone guide someone else through life.
    "You coming to Atlanta for Christmas?" he asked, shaking her out of her thoughts.
    "Yes," she answered automatically because she couldn't imagine being alone for Christmas this year. With George refusing to talk to her about anything significant and Patrick straight up sending her to voicemail, she was by herself. Millie was going home for the entire week, so she didn’t even have staying “home” as an option.
    "Good. I'm staying because of the playoffs, so let's get a massage together, ok?" He laughed a big, hearty laugh and Stella was reminded of the last time they got a massage together. Jesse had been a really good friend to her, she didn’t think she deserved it.
    "You're silly, but I can clearly be seen going into the spa with you now since George won't even talk to me."
    "He'll come around," Jesse comforted. "If he doesn't, you can come down to Atlanta and make me one happy, happy man."
    "Don't athletes stop having sex in order to perform at their peak?" She chuckled.
    "I'll make an exception for you," he joked.
    "George won't even talk to me, J. I know he still loves me. I love him. I just needed to…"
    "Collect yourself? Fuck Patrick?"
    The haze she been functioning in lifted immediately. "Oh shit! You know?" Stella rubbed her hand over her face. Of course Patrick had told Jesse. Billy probably knew too. “Is he okay?”
    “Nope,” Jesse answered.
    She needed to make a doctor's appointment to figure out what the fuck was going on with those defective pregnancy tests. She couldn’t focus on her mistakes now, especially since one of them had taken her best friend from her. She needed Patrick now, more than ever and he was gone because of her.
    She did this. “I don’t even…”
    "I know," his voice was low. "Stella. What do you want?"
    "I want to wake up and find that the last five years of my life was a huge fucking nightmare. Like on Dallas. I want to wake up and this is just…"
    "Reality, Stella, reality," Jesse chastised.
    She sighed. "I try not to think in those terms because it seems like what I want usually doesn’t matter.” She sighed again, louder this time. “I want George to know that I need him. I ran because I was trying to protect him, but I'm weak, J. I need him. I can't see my life without him."
    "Tell him."
    "I've tried."
    "Try again," Jesse directed. “What about Patrick?”
    “Patrick is my person, J. I love him, but we’re not it for each other. I’m not sure what we were thinking.”
    “From what I heard, I’m not sure a lot of thinking was happening,” Jesse commented.
    Stella felt a blush sweep across her face and down her neck. She’d slept with five people in her life and two of them were comparing notes and living together in Atlanta. Heat rose like water to a boil and she threw her phone down and threw up in her