Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Rubbing his hand along my neck, he adds, “Let’s get you to bed.”
I’m too tired to carry this burden any longer. It’s too complex to navigate my thoughts through the pros and cons of the situation. But really, it’s just Noah being here, being himself, that has my heart bursting with joy to tell him. “I need to tell you something.”
He holds my wrist and leads me back into the bedroom. “You can tell me anything,” he replies as if it will be nothing more than small talk about the weather.
Pulling back the covers, he steps away just enough for me to crawl into bed first. He’s quick to lie beside me and offer an open-arm invitation to snuggle against him. I do. I settle right in, thinking about how it would be nice to talk about the weather with someone, to make small talk over coffee, and to—What am I doing?
His being a father to Maxwell doesn’t come as a package deal with me attached. I’m not opposed to the idea, but I’m not the priority. I still can’t bring myself to regret what we did in the shower or how I’m lying with my arm draped over his chest like I do this every night. I savor this night, closing my eyes and letting the feel of his beating heart soothe me.
But my head is determined to ruin everything good in my life, to blow it up with guilt riddling through my heart until I tell him everything. How? How can I ruin what we’re sharing? Using his words, it’s so beautiful that it hurts.
My thoughts are suddenly in overdrive, my heart racing. I know why, but I’m not sure how to break this news to him or when. Is there ever a good time to have your life turned upside down? Once he’s told, I can’t take it back. Although I’ve realized he needs to know sooner rather than later, what if he’s not prepared?
I swallow hard, knowing I’m being a fool. No one prepares for something like this. I wasn’t, then went it alone for months before I told my mom. She became a shoulder to cry on, the only person I knew would help me through without judgment.
It sure wasn’t my dad.
I think a part of him still believes this is Chip’s baby. I think he wants to because otherwise he’s facing a societal shift inside his belief system. Not only did his daughter have a one-night stand but she’s having a stranger’s baby. By choice. How would he explain that to his country club buddies out on the golf course or, worse, the office? He took it as a personal affront to what he was trying to accomplish.
So much resentment has built up inside me that I refuse to give him any more of my strength. I pray Noah will take the news better than my dad did. I think he will, and that alone comforts me to know I’m doing the right thing.
Despite the nerves on how to tell him, my mind is made up. My soul is settled on the subject. Noah’s a good man and should know the truth.
His breathing is even but shallow, making me think he hasn’t fallen asleep yet. “Are you awake?” I whisper, drawing figure eights on his chest.
“I’m awake.” He sounds on the verge of sleep, but I grin in the dark, realizing he doesn’t want me to know. He wants to be here for me. Warmth and a dreamworld of emotions swell in my chest.
I’m still unsure how to say this, so I tilt my head up, thinking I might find the right path when I look into his eyes. “Noah?”
A light chuckle rocks his body when he looks at me. “Yes, Liv?”
Like a Band-Aid, I need to rip it quick. “You know, you were the last one I was with.” I leave the confession in the air and wait for a response with bated breath.
“I hope so. It was only twenty minutes ago.”
“Even tired, you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”
“I’m certain nothing was funny about that bad joke. I’m blaming it on the hour.” But then he says, “That was two years ago.” Disbelief tinges his words. There’s a pause, and I can tell he’s inching closer to the truth by how his brow furrows, and the grin is gone. He glances at me, tightening his arm around me. “That’s a long time.”
God, he feels sorry for me. I could almost laugh, but I’m worried I’ll end up in tears from the tension beginning to permeate the air. “Yes. It’s been a while.” I sit up, planting my hand on the bed to rest my weight. Making sure he’s okay, I swallow my fear and go for it. “I want you to know . . . I need you to know—”