“Nah, I think I managed this all on my own.”
“Should I grab you another ice cream sandwich from the freezer?” She hitches her thumb over her shoulder. “I know that you stocked up.”
I chortle and wipe my tears away at the same time. “Nah, I’ll be big enough soon, and I want to watch my sugar intake, as it’s important for the baby.”
She throws a fond look my way. “You’re really going to rock this mom thing.”
“I hope so.”
Hadley claps her hands together. “Okay, so plan of action is to give up on trying to tell Vaughn, and he will need to figure it out either by word of mouth or seeing that you’re carrying prized goods?”
“Could you maybe ask Connor not to mention that I’m pregnant?" I warn. "Not sure that's the way for this all to unfold."
She points a finger in the air. “Right, check that option off the list. We are sticking to Vaughn maybe running into you and figuring it out himself.”
“Exactly. I'm lucky, I guess, that I haven't really started to have a belly, especially if I wear baggy shirts. But I’ll start showing soon, no way around that. My jeans barely fit. I’ve moved onto using an elastic band to keep them up. Which means everyone will figure out that I’m pregnant soon. At least, the people who I haven’t told.” I sigh and feel that pain build in my throat again. "It's really not that I'm trying to keep him out of this baby's life, I swear… it's just… he's only given me signs that I will be hurt, and I just can't bear it now," I remind her. “After I have the baby I won’t feel so fragile, as if I’m about to break, and my determination to tell him will return.”
She gives me a sympathetic look. "I know… it's your own fear that you need to overcome." A long silence hits us before she changes her demeanor and attempts a smile. “We should go shopping for maternity clothes. Ooh, and are we finding out the sex of the baby at your twenty-week ultrasound? A gender reveal cake is completely in order.” Her excitement is overtaking her.
“Yes, to clothes, and no, I don’t want to find out, so no cake, sadly.”
She throws me a pretend pout. “Hmm, we’ll just have to go all out at your baby shower before the baby arrives.”
I look around my living room and my eyes gently gawk at the scene. “Well, at this rate I won’t have much space to store anything. I need to add moving to my list. I use the second bedroom in this place as a closet.”
“A closet housing dresses and your shoe collectionisimportant.”
I appreciate that she has detoured from our serious discussion. That’s the kind of friend I need, someone who follows my cues of what to say or do.
“Ready to implement the plan of action?” I ask.
It takes only a beat before she squeezes my arm. “No telling Vaughn and Big Isla, here we come.”
I laugh. “I’m hoping for a cute bump. But yes, plan confirmed.”
One day, I just hope Vaughn will understand.
* * *
It’sa few weeks later when I’m sitting at my desk going over project timelines in our Kanban boards on our project tool when my phone buzzes with an incoming message.
I finish typing my sentence when I quickly skim the screen of my phone, then my eyes shoot wide open in attention when I see Vaughn’s name on top of the bubble box.
Vaughn
Hey, I just wanted to touch base. A few weeks ago was kind of unexpected, and I’m well aware that it wasn’t my finest move. Just wanted to ensure that you don’t feel used or think that I’m an even bigger ass than you probably already did.
I tap my finger against my desk, taking in the fact that he’s been thinking about me or that night, which is why he texted now. I’m surprised for sure, but also remind myself of my plan of action that feels more like a strong conviction.
Still, the magnetic pull of his words causes me to type back.
You didn’t use me. I also offered.
Okay.
I should flip my phone over and move on, but I don’t. A speck inside of me is wondering if this is a tiny door to try again or at least figure out if he is in a better place.
Hope you are feeling better?
