She ducks back out, closing the door once more. Beck gathers the contracts I just signed for him, stacking them neatly to the side before passing another set to me.
“The rec center expansion’s going to be a big hit with the community, Nick. It’s really good, what you and Avery are doing.”
“Thanks.” I built the youth recreation center during the year Avery and I were broken up, but she’s become the true heart of it since the facility opened. She was instrumental in making the Elizabeth Xavier Center a success, planning all the art programs, hiring the instructors, pouring herself into every part of it, right down to the supplies we provide the kids. Good, but struggling kids who remind us both of who we used to be.
I scribble my signature where Beck indicates, then I slide the documents back to him. “Does that cover everything for now?”
“That’s all I have.” He collects all the paperwork then gets up to leave. His shrewd gaze bores into me. “How long have we known each other, Nick?”
“Ten years and then some.”
“Right. I’ve been around for a lot of deals, a lot of fires we’ve put out together—professional and personal. Through all of that, I've never seen you as settled as you are with Avery. I don’t think I ever saw you truly happy until she entered your life.”
I nod, totally in agreement with him. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. No offense.”
He chuckles, but his expression remains solemn. “Can I give you some unsolicited advice?”
“I’ve got a feeling you’re going to, no matter how I answer.”
“Yeah, I am. Don’t be an idiot, Nick. Don't let pride—or whatever else is troubling you about this Rennick problem—costyou what you’ve got with Avery. Nothing’s worth that. Trust me, I’ve been there, and I made the wrong choice."
He doesn’t elaborate, just stares at me while I absorb what he’s saying. Then he walks out, closing my office door behind him.
I glance at my phone again, still lying at the edge of my desk. I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with the idea of easing up on the people who came after Avery, but I do know one thing for certain. I need to make things right with her.
I open my contacts and find her name. It’s still early morning, and lately she’s been waking up later than usual. I open our latest text conversation from a couple days ago, which is full of wedding details, “just thinking about you” messages, and a lot of heart and smile emojis from her.
My cursor blinks against white as I consider how to break the ice. I start typing.
I'm sorry. Can we talk?
The words sit there, inadequate. Everything I need to say to her is too large for a text message, too important to reduce to characters on a screen.
I delete the message, letter by letter, until there's nothing left but empty space.
Whatever I broke last night, I'm not going to fix it with texts that can't carry the weight of what I need to say. We need to talk this out together, in person.
She deserves to see my face when I apologize for hurting her and ask her to forgive me.
I want her to know that I'm willing to fight for us, even when the thing I'm fighting is myself.
13
AVERY
My hand drifts tomy stomach again. I've lost count of how many times I've done that since I saw the test results. A new reflex is forming already, my palm pressing flat against my belly. My body feels no different than it had yesterday, yet nothing is the same.
I'm pregnant.
Every instinct has been nagging me to call Nick and tell him. To share this news with him and pray that he'll feel as excited and anxiously untethered as I do. I've only been holding this secret from him for a couple of hours, yet it feels like an eternity.
This secret is different from any I've ever carried. My past was something I hid out of shame, wounds I buried because I couldn't bear to expose them. This is the opposite. This is hope. It’s fragile and new, and I'm afraid to share it—even with Nick—before I'm certain it's real.
I've never hidden something this enormous from him. Not since we promised no more secrets after Paris broke us apart. We rebuilt our relationship on the foundation of absolute trustand honesty. We haven’t given each other anything less in the time since then.
I want to tell him. God, I want to. But a home test isn't enough for something this monumental. Not when our wedding is looming and we're apparently not on speaking terms after last night.
I need to be certain before I say the words that will change everything between us forever.
