Baby Steps ✔ (Under Construction)

SEVEN

Jude's mum was doing his head in. He didn't give a rats arse about fucking kitchen blinds. His mum, Kirstie has been over for approximately twenty minutes and he was already wanting to bang his head against the wall. He loves his mum, he really does but with more urgent and pressing things on his mind, he really wasn't in the mood to deal with her.

"I told your dad I didn't like the cream blinds with the roses on. You know the ones I mean, don't you honey? Anyways, as per usual he doesn't listen and now I'm stuck with ugly blinds that I can't bare the sight of."

Jude watched as his mum shoved her fork into a piece of melon and shoved it into her mouth. His parent's spent the majority of their marriage getting into petty arguments over the silliest of things, but they loved each other; so they'd always apologised and went back to acting like love-struck teenagers.

Once a week his mum, and occasionally his dad, came over for brunch. Jude was convinced it was just so his mum could be nosey and be kept up to date with his life; not that much happens really, well, other than getting one of his employees pregnant.

He hadn't really spoke to Zara since she dropped that rather large bomb on him earlier this week. He had wanted nothing more than to have a proper sit down conversation with her, but he was due to fly out to Dubai on a business trip on Tuesday evening which meant he had to cut their conversation short in order to catch his flight. She hadn't seemed upset or angry at him for running out of there and he was mentally kicking himself for giving her the impression that he couldn't take accountability for his part.

He could and he wanted too, that is if Zara wanted that.

She had said, "Don't worry, it's okay I understand. I'm sorry to drop this on you like this."

"I'll call you." He had said to her before he left.

But he hadn't.

Not yet, anyways.

She must think he's an arsehole. Scrap that, she must hate him.

Thoughts raced around Jude's brain as he pushed half a pancake around his plate. "Judey, what's wrong?" His mum says as she places her hand on his forearm.

He looks up at his mum with a small frown, before shaking his head lightly, his dark brown hair falling onto his forehead. He was due a haircut.

"Nothing." He mumbles. "Sorry mum, I'm not feeling very talkative. I've got some stuff I need to sort out. Do you mind if we reschedule our brunch date?"

The fifty-seven-year-old shook her head. Jude got up from his seat and leaned down to press a kiss to his mothers cheek. "Thank you."

He watched as his mum grabbed her jacket and bag and made a beeline for his front door. Once she was gone and the front door was locked, he allowed himself to breathe.

His head had felt like it was going to explode all week.

Pregnant. He had knocked someone up.

Shit.

It's not like he didnt want children; he did, but he hadn't thought they would make an appearance until his thirties, not his twenties. Zara was the perfect woman in every single way and Jude had no doubt that she would make an excellent mother but what did she want? Did she even want their baby?

That thought alone had Jude's stomach churning.

He needed to talk to her.

***

Jude had no idea how he managed to get HR to tell him Zara's home address, but they hadn't hesitated when he had asked for it. Of course he had made out there was a pressing issue that needed to be addressed and that it couldn't wait until he saw her on Monday morning.