I pull back. “Eight weeks?”
She smirks. “Eric and I wanted to wait until after the first trimester.”
I understand.
“Wait, I’m the god-mommy, right?”
“Who else?”
Laughing, I wrap my arms around her again.
“But this baby is going to need a god-daddy. And my husband is bound and determined to make the godfather a damn firefighter. It’d be so convenient if my best friend would get over her bullshit so she can marry the man she loves and we can ask them both to be the godparents.”
I pull back, giving Angela an uncertain expression.
“Look, you have all of the reasons in the world to fear being with Emanuel. Yes, his family history or whatever could get in the way. And there’s the flip side. He could never want to go into the family business but heisa firefighter and a member of Rescue Four at that. He works a dangerous job everyday. There are reasons to be scared. And that’s still not enough to deny what you feel for him.”
“Angela—” I shaking my head and pushing out a heavy breathe.
“Has he ever given you a reason not to trust him?”
“No.”
“Has he ever made you feel unsure of who you are when you’re with him?”
“No.”
“Has he ever treated you like you didn’t matter to him or that whatever was going on in his life was more important?” She questions with a lifted brow.
“No.”
“Has he—”
“Okay, I get it.”
“Do you?”
Forcing out a heavy breath, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Pregnancy is making you pushy,” I tease.
She grins. “That’s ’cause this baby knows that his or her godparents need to be together.”
I roll my eyes, knowing that Angela is right. No, Emanuel has never given me a reason not to trust him. He’s been forthright about his family and his past. From the moment he told me about them he didn’t try to hide what it is they did, and if he said that he had no interest in it, I had to believe him. Emanuel always made me feel like the most important thing in the world to him. Even now, during our separation, he continues to text me just to let me know he’s thinking of me or that he loves me, or to wish me a good day at work.
“I’m such a fool,” I groan.
“Yes, you are, but you’re my fool.” Angela hugs me. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, why don’t you call him?” She steps back and picks my phone up off the bed, handing it to me.
Slowly, I reach for it, taking it from her. I stare at the phone. “He’s working.”
“His shift ends in twenty-minutes.”
Eric and Emanuel are working the same shift this evening.
“I’ll give you some privacy to call. I hear my manager downstairs setting up for the night. I’ll go help her.”
I nod, having heard the downstairs door open and things being moved around by the manager. I watch Angela leave, and then hear the apartment door open and close before I turn my attention back to my phone.
Pulling up my most recent calls, I allow my thumb to hover over Emanuel’s name for a few seconds. I’m trying to figure out how to accurately apologize for being so damn wishy-washy. Then I fear that he’s over it and over me.
