It was almost midnight, and Adam was still unwrapping HomeGoods bags and mumbling things to himself like, “I’ll have Arnie help me gather some sticks from the yard tomorrow. A fire would look cheery during the interview.”
He was totally carried away while I sprawled, exhausted, on the new blue and white checked couch. (We’d gone with a modified grandma aesthetic after all.) But he just kept…staging. He was making a grouping in the corner of the dining room consisting of a tall vase with a feather thingy sticking out of the top. A short fat basket. Some strange wood carving that might be a monstera leaf and a banana, but I wasn’t completely sure.
“This takes our relationship to a whole new level,” I said.
He looked up, half-offended. “What do you mean?”
“I had no idea you were a frustrated decorator.” I got up and poured each of us a glass of wine. Tomorrow was a workday, butI thought it might be fun to stop and celebrate our successes. “Come sit for a minute.”
“Okay, I’ve almost got this.” Ten minutes later he got up, dusted off his hands, and assessed his handiwork. He looked pleased. Then his gaze alit on the couch. “A few yellow pillows would perk that blue checked couch right up and give the room a cheerful ambiance.”
I patted the seat beside me. “I think you’re looking for reasons to go back to HomeGoods. You love it there, admit it.” He headed to go fuss with the feathers again, I just knew. But as he passed me, I tugged on his shirt, which pulled him backwards, causing him to tumble down to the couch.
He landed next to me, the side of his body colliding pleasantly with mine. He was hard to my soft, long and lean and full of muscle, and it brought a simmering sense of yearning straight to the surface. I tried to focus by handing him a glass of wine and clinking our glasses. “It looks amazing.”
Two blue and white checked couches with ruffles on the bottom, two really nice tan leather recliners (no ruffles), and an off-white coffee table with a little beat-up-on-purpose look. Anita even rounded up some peaceful-looking landscape prints for the walls. And Adam found an area rug with beige swirls that was really soft on the feet—thank you again, HomeGoods.
We sat staring at the dark fireplace, which wasn’t lit, but I was imagining what it would be like if it were, and we were sitting here all cozy, enjoying our wine. I was weary and elated, frightened and happy, anticipating what was to come.
On top of it all, I had a deep sense of his presence next to me, which was making my heart speed up in a steady, quiet beat. His warmth and his simple clean scent flooded me.
The tiny, random noises of the house at night—the buzz of the icemaker filling up, a branch scraping softly against a window with the wind, an occasional faraway car driving downthe street—all gave me the sense that it wouldn’t be quiet this way much longer.
I closed my eyes and tried to hear baby cries, baby noises—but it all still seemed like an impossibility. This was the calm before the storm, and we both knew it.
“What are you thinking?” he said. He hadn’t moved away. We were shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, and I was having trouble thinking of anything.
I wanted to lean into him, slip my arm through his—i.e., cuddle. Maybe turn on the TV that I didn’t have yet and watch something fun together. Or not watch anything at all and pull him down to me and kiss him silly.
I remembered every touch back in that tropical dream world, every frantic and every quiet one.
My heart was pounding. Not from everything that had happened in the past few hours, but because Adam was holding my hand. Right here, right now. Unexpected and expected both. And so, so nice.
I stared down at where they were joined—his grip comforting and certain, my hand smaller, paler, interwoven with his big one.
I went as hot and cold as a teenager on a first date. I got shaky. I felt blood rush into my face, and I could barely make out his words as he said, “You’re going to do great tomorrow.” He looked completely unaffected as he squeezed my hand and lifted up his glass. “To new beginnings.”
I smiled. “To new beginnings.” But my mind was already dissecting his word choice. Did he mean us too? Werewea new beginning?
“You’re going to be a great mom, Ani.” Such comforting words. They filled me with a confidence that I didn’t quite have, because I could tell they were sincere. I knew that he believed in me.
I looked into his eyes, beautiful, brown, calm. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that right now.”
He squeezed my hand again. “I believe in you. I always have.” What would he do if I kissed him? Now, in this moment of calm before the storm? Would that be totally crazy, to start something now?
“I wonder why that is,” I said, looking him straight in the eye. “People might think I’m flighty or impulsive. But not you. Why not?”
His mouth turned up in a half smile that made my stomach flip. “You’re not afraid to do things. Actually do big things. I really admire that.”
I held my breath, wondering if he’d lean in for a kiss. Because, oh, that was so what I wanted. It was all I could think of. I’d just about decided to do it myself, but when I glanced up at him again, something made me hesitate.
His look grew serious. He gave a small sigh. His brow furled in worry. He reached over for my other hand and sat there, holding both of them. I sat frozen, unable to move, afraid to breathe, wanting him so badly. I knew it was a crazy time, a crazy place, but I wanted him to tell me that he couldn’t stop thinking about me, as I couldn’t about him, and that he had to have me right now or else he’d die.
“Ani, I like you so much.” I heard the “but” before he said it. “But I have to tell you right now, before the baby comes, that I’m a bad bet for a relationship. I just don’t want to mislead you.”
No relationshipspun in my head.Why not?Why the hell not?I was half in love with him already. Didn’t he feel the same way about me?
“Mislead me?” I managed.
