Chapter 25: I Should Have Known Better

10:34 AM, December 3, 1964

Paul's POV

I sat at the table drinking my morning tea when John sleepily stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes. None of the others were up yet, but that wasn't surprising. John and I had always been the early risers.

"Morning, John", I said cheerily, sipping at my drink.

"Mmf", he mumbled in response, waving his hand at me as he poured himself tea.

"You seem tired. Rough night?", I asked as he settled into the chair opposite mine on the other side of the table.

"Yeah. I drove Delilah to the hospital at 3:30", he croaked, his voice rough.

"Hospital? Is she alright?", I asked worriedly, knitting my eyebrows together as I leaned forward.

John didn't answer immediately; he just cupped the steaming mug between his hands, staring into the contents in a daze as I waited apprehensively for his answer.

"She's pregnant, Paul", he finally said, looking up at me with raised eyebrows.

Time stood still. I couldn't believe it. What if the baby was mine? Would John leave Delilah to fend for herself? If so, I'd be there by her side.

"How far along is she?", was my only response. I'd be able to figure out if it was mine based on the timeline.

"About 3 weeks they said", John replied disinterestedly.

I counted in my head how long it'd been since we got back from the tour. Today was December 3...we'd arrived on the...12th of November. Exactly 3 weeks...

"Shit", I muttered under my breath, slamming my fists into the table. John shot up at my sudden violent actions and looked at me questioningly.

"Shit, shit, shit! John...John you know how Delilah sort of kicked you out the day we got back from the tour?", I asked urgently, leaning over the table.

"Yes", he nodded, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

"And you know how the next day we drove to Mimi's and she talked to you and that whole fight came about and-", I rambled.

"Paul", he interrupted, holding up his hand. "Just get to the fucking point".

"That baby...it could be mine", I gulped, suddenly afraid. John flared his nostrils and gripped the edge of the table so hard I thought he'd crack it. His white knuckles stood out against the dark wood as the pieces came together in his head.

"What the fuck, Paul! You didn't use protection?", he roared, lunging at me from across the table.

I raised my palms in defense and opened my mouth to apologize when I heard footsteps tromping down the staircase.

"What's all the commotion about?", Ringo teased. His face fell when he noticed the tension between John and I; not to mention the fact that John was halfway across the bloody table, his fist poised above my face.

John sighed and backed away, sliding back into his seat. He waved his arm, motioning for Ringo to sit down. Ringo glanced at me, perplexed, and cautiously made his way to an empty chair between John and I.

"Delilah's pregnant", John said bluntly, tapping his fingers impatiently on the table top while shooting daggers at me.

"Well that's great!", Ringo, ever the enthusiast, gushed happily.

"No, it's not. Remember when I cheated on Delilah and she found out? Well, the night I was gone, her and Paulie got busy. So, Paul could be the father", John spat, his black eyes boring into me as I tried desperately to ignore his gaze.

"Paul! I can't believe you didn't use a condom!", Ringo scolded, shaking his head as his blue eyes widened in surprise and disappointment.

"Oh shut up, you", I grunted, staring at the floor with my arms crossed.

"There's no need for that, Paulie", John said in a sarcastic, biting tone. "After all, Ringo's not the one who got her knocked up".

"Maybe it isn't mine, though! I mean, you've been shagging her almost every night since you two got back together!", I protested, throwing my hands in the air in annoyance.

"I guess we'll have to see, then", John replied bitterly, challenging me with his eyes. Ringo looked back and forth between us, unsure of what to say or do.

Just when the unfolding silence was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, George appeared, scratching at his neck.

"Morning, fellas", he called, winking at us obliviously as he rummaged through the fridge.

"Let's see what Georgie thinks of this mess", John suggested mockingly as George turned around, eyeing us in confusion.

"Come here, George. We've got a bit of a dilemma on our hands", John invited, waving his hand in the same fashion as he did with Ringo earlier.

I slumped down in my chair and pressed my palms into my eyes, preparing for the worst. George placed himself opposite Ringo and folded his hands in his lap expectantly.

John told the same story and by the time he was finished, George remained with a neutral expression. I was beginning to think that George might've been on my side after all, when he opened his mouth to speak.

"You're a daft git, McCartney", was all he said, as he rose from the table and continued his quest for the perfect breakfast.

I banged my head against the table and sighed, squishing my nose against the cold surface. John folded his hands on the table and peered at me.

"Wait till Delilah hears", he said coldly, getting up from the table and briskly walking upstairs.

"Fuck", I grumbled, closing my eyes.

Ringo's POV

I couldn't believe it! Never once would I have thought Paul would be so irresponsible. I mean, it was one thing to shag your mate's girl, but it was another thing to shag her and not use protection. I vaguely wondered how Delilah would react, or if she already knew. John must've been furious, Paul was feeling regret and George, well I believe he was on John's side. I know I felt bad for both parties. It was wrong of Paul to do that, but then again, it was wrong of John to do what he did.

And stuck in the middle of this mess was Delilah. Poor girl. She was going to need a ton of help, which I wasn't in the least bit hesitant to provide. I had a strange feeling that John might leave her as soon as he could, if the baby really was Paul's anyway. And I felt like it was my responsibility to take care of her if neither Paul nor John would.

I was contemplating these thoughts when John appeared in the kitchen with her, his arm around her thin waist. She looked puzzled; he obviously hadn't broken the news to her yet. She also looked sick. She had deep purple circles under her eyes, her skin was pale, and her face looked a bit sunken.

A tide of pity washed over me and I suddenly felt a paternal need to hold her and comfort her. John looked pissed and wouldn't take his eyes off of Paul. Paul was staring at the table, his face red and George was watching everything from his position leaning against the counter.

"Tell her, Paul", John spoke, his voice dangerously quiet as his grip on Delilah's waist tightened. She looked as though she was going to be sick, so John pulled out a chair beside me and placed her on it gingerly.

She looked at Paul expectantly and he raised his eyes to look at her, shame written all over his face. He shifted his weight uncomfortably as all of us fixed our gazes on him.

"I might've gotten you pregnant", he mumbled, coughing into his hand.