I don’t say that though. Instead, I shove past him, seeking refuge from his expectant stare. Thankfully, he lets me in my car and I think I’ve made my escape, but once I click my seatbelt into place, his knuckle taps loudly on the window.
“I’ll be by the house tomorrow,” he informs me as I begin powering down the glass.
“I have to work tomorrow,” I snap, putting the car in reverse.
He lowers his head, seeking my eyes. “It’ll be before your shift.”
I don’t even bother asking how he knows what time I come in, because knowing Linc, he’ll be there at dawn. I drive off into the night, sparing him one final glance as I pull out of the parking lot, then I continue my journey down memory lane.
Alone.
Past
My daughter came into this world with a healthy set of lungs and a head full of jet-black hair, just like her daddy. She already possesses my stubbornness, it seems. I had to be induced two weeks after my due date because she absolutely refused to come on her own.
My mother told me giving birth would be the single most painful, beautiful experience of my life and she was right. But this angel is worth every ounce of pain. I’ve been so scared in the months leading up to her birth, but all of my fears evaporated the moment I laid eyes on her.
She is the light of my life.
She gives it color and meaning.
I’ve finally found my purpose and it’s swaddled in a tiny pink blanket, sleeping soundly in my arms.
Dean hasn’t left my side. He’s been overly sweet and attentive. He held my hand the entire delivery and even cut the cord. It was so precious watching him hold his baby girl for the first time, and he’s just as enamored with her as I am.
“She has your nose,” he says, smoothing his index finger across the bridge.
I smile down at her. She does have my nose. I’ve spent hours staring at her. Even though I’ve only known her for two days, I can describe every line and curve of her face. How many wrinkles in her tiny fingers.
How many breaths she can take in a single minute.
She consumes my every thought. My need to love and protect her is immense and overwhelming. Something I think only a mother can truly understand.
Dean rises from the bed, stretching his arms above his head. “You hungry? I’m sick of the cafeteria food.”
“Yeah, a burger sounds really good right now.”
He leans down and kisses me on the cheek then the lips. “Need anything else?”
Smiling up at him, I shake my head. “I think we’re good. Take your time. Get some fresh air. You’ve been cooped up in here for two days straight.”
He kisses me again. “I’m so proud of you, baby. I’m the luckiest man in the whole goddamn world. I love you both very much.”
“We love you, too.”
“Be back soon.”
When the door finally shuts behind him, I breathe a sigh of relief and reach for my cell to text Linc and see where he is. I hate going behind my husband’s back but I’ve become desperate.
When I called Linc to let him know when I would be induced, Dean went crazy. He doesn’t want me talking to him at all. He’s always been jealous of my relationship with Linc. Anytime I talk about him, his whole demeanor changes, but it’s gotten to the point where I won’t mention him at all in order to avoid a fight, and I hate that I have to do that. But it’s hard not to talk about him when he’s sometimes all I think about.
The guilt eats at me because of it. I know I shouldn’t long for another man, especially my best friend, but I can’t help the way I feel inside.
I read somewhere once that it’s impossible to love two men at once, that your soul can have only one counterpart.
One true love.
That may be true but both of them own a piece of my heart. And each have the ability to tear it apart.
