I want to take his hand and press it to my stomach and watch his face when he understands.
But I can't. Not yet.
I'm due to leave for the doctor soon. And I can't tell him about the appointment without telling him why. This isn't a conversation for a text message. It isn't even a conversation for a phone call. It's the kind of thing that needs to be said face to face, when I can see his reaction and be reassured that I'm not in this alone.
My fingers hover over the screen. I type and delete. Type again.
I have to be somewhere. I should be home in a couple hours.
His response is instant:Where are you going? Can it wait?
I can practically hear through the screen how badly he wants to see me, how much he needs to fix what broke between us. My chest aches with wanting to give him that. But I can't explain where I'm going without explaining why. I know Nick. He'll demand it.
And because I can't explain why—not like this—the lie forms before I can stop it.
I promised Tasha I'd have lunch with her today. Can't cancel on her.
My thumb hovers over send. The lie sits heavy on my tongue even though I haven't spoken it yet, guilt settling like a stone in my chest.
I'm about to lie to the man I love. The man I'm going to marry.
But this isn't deception. I'll give him the truth, just... not yet. A few more hours, that's all. Dr. Wilson will confirm what I already know, and then I'll come home, and I'll tell him everything. Including why I just lied to him about where I'm going.
I hit send and let my breath out on a shaky sigh. Then I add another message to cushion the lie.
I'll call as soon as I'm home. If you still want to come back early to talk, I'd like that.
His reply comes after a pause that feels unbearably long.Okay. See you at home.
I should feel relieved. We do need to talk, and the fact that he reached out to take the first step is signal enough that he hates the way we left things as much as I do. But right now, standing in our penthouse with my phone clutched in one hand and the other resting atop my stomach, I feel the weight of everything I'm carrying. The secret. The hope. The fear.
The guilt of keeping this from him even for a few hours.
Everything will be better once we talk.
I have to believe that's true.
14
NICK
She lied to me.
I have to be somewhere. I promised Tasha I'd have lunch with her today.
I knew it wasn't true the moment I read the words. Some animal instinct recognized her deception even before my mind caught up. We've been through too much, survived too many lies—including my own—and rebuilt our relationship on too much hard-won truth for me not to know when something's wrong where she's concerned.
No more secrets. That's what we promised each other after we got back together more than a year ago. No more lies.
And yet there's no denying the fact that Avery was not where she told me she would be.
Why would she lie to me now?
I’ve been at the penthouse twenty-five minutes waiting for her to come home. I’m too unhinged to pace, so I stand at the tall window in the living area, staring out at the Manhattan skyline but seeing none of it. All I can think about is Avery’s text message.
Can't cancel on her. I should be home in a couple hours.
My right hand flexes at my side, scar tissue pulling tight across damaged tendons. The old wound aches the way it always does when I'm fighting to hold myself still. Each minute stretches into the next, an exercise in restraint while something volcanic builds beneath my ribs.
