Now that my heart was involved, anything he said when he blew would obliterate me.
Then again, maybe the reason he was so calm was because he wasn't as emotionally attached as I was. Maybe his concern was more for our baby than for me.
I took a deep breath and covered my face with my hands. Oh, God, I hoped that wasn't the case. He liked me, he'd admitted as much to me. He wanted to get to know me, to spend time with me, but that wasn't the same as falling in love.
When you loved someone, you gave them the ability to hurt you. But if they didn't love you back, you couldn't trust them not to inflict pain.
J.J. gave me every indication he was a good man, but that didn't mean he couldn't hurt me. He might never do so intentionally, but unintentional pain still caused wounds.
By the time J.J. returned to the kitchen, I'd gotten myself under control. Or at least gave every appearance that I was in control.
Unfortunately, he destroyed it when he came back in and asked, "Are we going to have to have this discussion again when we move into a bigger place?"
I blinked at him, completely taken aback by the question. "What?"
He sat down in the chair to my right and scrubbed his hands over his face. "We won't be able to stay here once the baby comes. We won't have enough space for both of us and the baby and all their stuff."
I stared at him in complete silence for a protracted moment. He was right, of course. This house was almost too small for J.J. and I together. Add the baby into the mix and it would be so crowded we couldn't turn around.
And that was the moment I burst into tears.
"Oh, crap," J.J. said as I sobbed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't cry."
Of course that only made me sob harder because I felt even worse.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," J.J. murmured, his mouth suddenly by my ear. Somehow he arranged us so that he was sitting in the chair and I was in his lap. He hugged me close, rocking me back and forth as he stroked my hair. "I didn't mean to upset you. Please don't cry."
I hiccupped a few times but I couldn't stop the tears long enough to tell him that it wasn't his fault for being right.
He stood up with me in his arms and carried me into my room. I tucked my face into his neck as the tears kept coming. J.J. sat on the edge of the bed and continued to hold me while I cried.
I wasn't sure how long I wept, but when the tears finally calmed, my eyes felt swollen and hot. My nose was stopped up and my throat ached.
I sniffled then laughed when a tissue appeared in front of my face, held between two of J.J.'s fingers.
"Thanks," I muttered.
I took the tissue and blew my nose. Another appeared in front of my face where it was tucked beneath J.J.'s chin and I laughed again. I took it and wiped my cheeks, eyes, and the tip of my nose. I crumpled them up and tossed them on my nightstand.
"At the risk of upsetting you again, can I ask what brought that on?" J.J. asked, his tone conversational.
I sighed. "It wasn't your fault," I answered. "It's part hormones and part sentiment. This was my grandmother's house. She left it to me when she died and I hate to leave it."
"Ah. I understand."
I huffed a little laugh. "I'm glad you do because I don't. Not completely anyway. I've never been much of a crier and now I'm tearing up at the drop of the hat."
"Well, you did say it was partly hormones," he said, making me laugh again.
"Yeah, they're a pain." I kept my head down and rested my cheek on his chest.
"Wanna lay down for a few minutes?" he asked.
I nodded.
He turned and I crawled off his lap onto the bed. When he started to get up, I reached out and took his hand.
"Will you stay with me for a few minutes?" I asked.
