Jane
I couldn’t believewhat he was saying to me. I heard everything he said, but it was like the words were surrounding me in quicksand, and I couldn’t find any solid ground.
We were sitting in Yvette, in Lot H. I’d met him there at our regular time even though he’d had to cancel the past two days.
Lot H. The scene of many a mind-blowing make-out session. And now Stick was telling me that he’d knocked up some girl.
I wanted to rage at him—totally annihilate him. But I didn’t want him to know how much I cared. How much it hurt.
“Well, that sucks for you,” I said. He just stared at me. I wanted to open Yvette’s door, push him out of the passenger side, start her up and roar her to life and get out of this sucky parking lot. “I mean, I get it. We never discussed exclusivity. I’m just gladwewere always careful,” I said instead, in some breezy tone that I conjured up. Damn, now I really wished he didn’t know that I’d been a virgin. I could pretend I’d been sleeping with someone else too.
And that thought—that Stick had been sleeping with someone else (even though, yes, he had every right…technically)—just about broke my heart. Not that I’d ever let him know that.
He snorted in disgust. Like he had the right to show disgust at whatIsaid.
“That’s not it. I’ve been faithful to you, Jane. It was exclusive to me. I told her that I was out—casual as it was—after that first day.”
There were a lot of “firsts” with Stick. “Which first day?”
“The day I brought you Yvette. The day you told me about you and your mom going to sit outside Caro’s house when you were a kid. The day you kissed the shit out of me,” he said. He smiled at the last, a sad, soft smile, and part of me thought that maybe we’d make it through this. Weather this—baby-sized—storm.
“There’s only been you, Jane. Ever since that day. Before it, actually. Since Betsy’s wedding. I just didn’t say the words until that day. But I knew.”
I’d known too, even though I hadn’t admitted it to myself at the time. Barely admitted it to myself now, after spending nearly every afternoon with the guy for over the past two months.
“And Iwascareful with Shelly. Every time. But, you know…”
Yeah, I knew. Shit happened. And now Shelly was carrying his baby.
Shelly. Stupid name.
He took my hand, held it in his on top of the console, our fingers laced together. It was much warmer now, but his hand felt like ice, and I bet that mine was just as cold. There was pain on his face as he whispered my name, just staring at me. Not leaning in for a kiss. Not trying to get me over the console. Just looking at me.
The old me, the real Jane, would have pounced on his moment of weakness. Would have berated him for being careless (even though apparently he hadn’t been). Would have used this moment to pull away from him and a relationship that could go nowhere even yesterday. Today, it was beyond impossible.
And yet I didn’t do any of those things. Instead, I waited for him to say he wanted to try and make it work. For him to say yeah, it was complicated and uncomfortable, but what we had was worth seeing through.
But he didn’t say that. And I…wouldn’t.
He cleared his throat. I could see the struggle he was going through, and though I knew where it was all leading, I couldn’t help but think about how handsome he was to me now. When, at first, I’d thought he was just ragtag and a little scraggy. Now, I saw the strength of his jaw, the determination in his face, the warmth in his brown eyes.
“I have to stand by her, Jane. I can’t deny my own child. I won’t.”
Then. Then was when I fell in love with Stick Whatever.
He couldn’t possibly know how much that particular sentiment, those particular words, would mean to me—someone who herself had been denied. Loudly and publicly.
Or maybe he did. Maybe he knew that was exactly what I needed to hear so that I could understand his choice.
A choice I knew he’d already made. A choice that would break my heart, just as I’d begun to understand its complicated ways.
“And…I just don’t…want to be an asshole about this all. You know? I can’t keep seeing you while somebody else is carrying my child.”
“Maybecarrying your child,” I said. “You said she wasn’t sure.” My voice sounded desperate, and I hated that.
Squeezing my hand, Stick let out a loud sigh, mirroring the heaviness in my own heart. “Yeah.Maybemy child. But we won’t know for a while.”
“And you want to put us on hold until then? Until after the baby’s born?”
