A shade of hurt hits his demeanor because I know I’ve been pushing him away a little while I wallow in my disappointment.
The sound of the sliding door breaks our odd tension.
Our son wobbles as he carries a giant basket filled with food with a purple bow on top. “I think the neighbors left this.”
Ford leaps out of his chair to quickly help Connor by taking the basket, and his head dips while he tries to read the card. “‘Get well soon so we can ditch the guys and go for a spa day at the Dizzy Duck. Hugs, Piper and April.’”
I smile softly, as that was very sweet of them. I should have made more of an effort to see them while I’ve been in Lake Spark, but life has been busy.
“Yes! We got April’s coconut brownies.” Connor is already exploring the care package.
“Back off, those are totally mine,” I challenge.
Ford sets the basket down at the bottom of my recliner, and I sneak a peek at the array of snack options.
“Everyone was worried,” Ford adds.
I sigh. “I know. I’m just a little lost about what to do next.”
“Grandpa says you’re going to come to your senses. I don’t know what that means,” Connor informs us as he chomps on a cookie.
Ford glances at me with a hardened smile, clearly unimpressed with my father’s choice of words, and I can only rub my forehead, feeling Ford’s sentiment.
“Your grandfather just needs some time to adjust to your father and me changing our relationship,” I attempt to explain.
“We’re not inviting him to Thanksgiving, huh?” Connor speaks in a sarcastic tone.
It causes me to half-smile and Ford to crack a grin.
For a second, I’m reminded of how happy I was before the explosion of my life.
* * *
The thingabout having a ten-year-old is once the sneaking around stopped, Ford and I were free to share a room with no fear of Connor interrupting us, as he is past that stage of childhood. It means Ford and I can get lost between the sheets, although on the quiet side.
I slide into bed with Ford who is already lying with the duvet draped around his waist to reveal his shirtless body. His smirk informs me that he approves of my night dress that is cotton, simple yet short, and the straps fall off easily. I’m quick to find myself in his arms with my head resting against his chest.
“I’m worried,” he states, meaning about me. He begins to draw lazy circles on the curve of my shoulder.
“I know.” I focus on trailing my fingers on the outline of his pecs. “I’m just so disheartened. I know it’s just an exam but passing it would be the trophy that confirms I did it all despite getting pregnant at eighteen.”
He places a soft kiss on the top of my head, but he doesn’t say anything.
“You’re lucky, Ford.”
I feel him tense slightly. He feels guilty, and I’d be lying if I said a slither of resentment didn’t flow through me.
“I’m only lucky because of you.” His voice is delicate. “Is it just the exam bothering you? Or is it our parents?”
“I don’t like remembering the way it was, and now here we are ten years later, and our parents still manage to make me feel like we are incapable of making decisions for ourselves. It was shitty, that’s for sure.” And sad and infuriating. I’m twenty-eight, and they make me feel like a child.
“We either confront them or move on. When we were younger, they put pressure on us, but they don’t have that power over us anymore. They have no choice but to accept us or let it all go."
A disgusted sound escapes me. “Until they decide they need to speak their mind.”
Ford is careful when he slides out from under me to lie on his side against a propped arm. “That’s on me. I’m the one telling everyone you’re my fiancée, and deep down I wanted them to find out, not from us. How fucked up is that?”
I reach up to cradle his face. “It’s called bitterness, and we are allowed to feel it. Ten years, Ford. Ten years that we could’ve had it all.”
