Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
In my fantasies, though, he always pulled me closer. He was the protective guy who held my hand on the airplane. The romantic guy who kissed me in the rain. The possessive guy who got in someone’s face and said, You best keep your hands off the mother of my son.
I missed that guy.
Since I’d asked him for space, I sensed a reserve between us, neither of us quite sure how to act. For so many months, the intimacy between us had been allowed to grow and flourish. It had felt like a dance as we’d circled around each another, then joined hands, and finally held each other close as we spun around the floor.
Now it was like we were walking on broken glass, each of us unsure where to put a foot.
The distance was what I’d asked for, but I missed the easy way it used to be. I missed feeling free to text him whenever I felt like it. I missed chatting with him nightly about what the baby was doing and how I was feeling. I missed that flutter in my heart when he’d say something a little suggestive or pay me a compliment or call me his cupcake.
Had I let my anxiety have too much sway? Was safe really better than sorry? Would I regret not throwing caution to the wind and taking a chance on this man I loved? Maybe he wasn’t perfect, but damn, he tried hard. And he was good to me.
I could spend hours second-guessing myself this way.
I miss you, he’d said the other day. I’d seen the expression on his face as he said it, and it was tortured. That was how I’d described it to Ari when I told her about the FaceTime call, which might have been a mistake because she said, “Good. He deserves torture.”
But I didn’t want him to hurt. I loved him.
Not just because he was the father of the child I carried, but for the man he was. The good in his soul. The gold in his heart.
And I couldn’t stop hoping he’d wake up one morning and choose me to share it with.
“Am I a fool, Nicky?” I asked, running my hands over my belly. “To keep on hoping this way?”
The baby was silent on the matter.
“Okay, fine. Be that way. It’s time to get up anyway.” Sighing, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and got up to head for the bathroom. “Your uncle Austin is bringing the crib over this morning, and—” Suddenly my vision went blurry. I backed up immediately and sat on the bed again. Something was not right. There was a ringing sound in my ears. As I groped for my phone, I broke out in a cold sweat.
I dialed Austin.
“Hello?”
“Hey, can you come a little early?”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure. I feel strange.”
“I’m calling 9-1-1.”
“No, don’t!” I blinked a few times. “I think I just got light-headed getting out of bed. I’ll be okay. Maybe I just need to eat.”
“Stay where you are. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Don’t move, Mabel. I have a key.”
“Okay.”
But as soon as we hung up, I realized I had to go to the bathroom. My bladder was not going to last ten minutes. I looked at my bedroom doorway. It was just a few feet from there to the bathroom. I could make it.
Moving more slowly, I lowered my feet to the floor and took a few tentative steps. But my legs were unsteady. Or maybe it was the room. Instead of moving toward the door, I’d veered toward my dresser. I reached out, grabbing for the edge, but lost my balance, my upper body falling forward.
Something hit my temple, and I sank to the bottom of a deep, dark pool.
TWENTY-FIVE
joe
Exactly six hours after I’d left Chicago, I pulled into Mabel’s driveway and parked right behind her new SUV. The front lawn was covered with snow, but I was too impatient to go back to the sidewalk and use the shoveled front walk, so I stomped through six inches of snow in my shoes like a madman.
On the front porch, I stamped my feet and knocked on the door at the same time. Impatient, I shoved my hands in my coat pockets and shifted my weight from side to side. When she didn’t answer after thirty seconds, I knocked again. When she didn’t answer thirty seconds after that, I put my hands to the small window pane within her front door. The front hallway looked exactly how I remembered it, but there was no sign of Mabel or even Cleo. The hall light was on, though, and at the back of the house, I could see the kitchen lights were on. That was a little strange. Maybe she was in the shower?