I move from kneeling on the floor to sitting beside her, our hands staying interlocked.
“You want to learn French?”
She shrugs, her voice soft as she says, “Yeah, I want to encourage the language for our daughter. It’s a part of who you are, and I think it’s important for her to learn, as well as myself.”
A wide smile spreads from cheek to cheek on my face. “That’s amazing, Teagan, really. I’ll help you learn if you’d like.”
“I’d like that, but can you tell me what you said?”
Using my free hand, I grasp her chin gently, my finger rubbing along her jaw.
“I said, you are so beautiful, and that my life has become more beautiful since you came into it.”
“Quentin,” she breathes, her tone a mix of want and hesitancy.
I press my forehead against hers, our lips mere inches apart. “Yes,mon amour?”
“I want—”
The sound of my phone ringing in my pocket interrupts the rest of her sentence. Teagan pulls away from me and I grab my phone from my pocket to see my agent’s name on my screen.
Motherfucker.
I’ve never wanted to strangle him until now. Ignoring him, I set my phone on the coffee table.
“I’m going to head to bed,” Teagan announces as she gets up off the couch, acting as if nothing happened.
Not wanting to make things awkward, I do the same, despite it making my chest ache.
“Yeah, I’m going to turn in for the night too.”
We walk silently up the stairs, and when we make it to the doorsteps of our separate rooms, we both pause.
I look over my shoulder, seeing her eyes on me as she remains still in front of her door.
I’m about to enter my room, seeing as neither of us has anything to say, when she speaks up.
“You make my life better too, you know.”
I hang my head, taking a deep breath before I answer. “Why does it feel like there’s a but coming?”
“But we know we can’t be more than this.”
It’s what I already knew to be true, but I was willing to take the risk. Clearly, she’s not, and I don’t want to ruin all the progress we’ve made because I like how close we are, and I know how important that will be when the baby’s here versus us going back to being strangers.
So I swallow what I really want to say and settle for, “See you in the morning.”
She smiles. “Night.”
“Night,” I say, watching her disappear into her room and shut the door.
Once I’m alone in my room, I drop to my bed, my elbows resting on my knees as I let my head fall into my hands.
I need to get my head straight. Blueberry is our main priority, not whatever feelings I have for her.
It’s what I keep telling myself over and over as I try to sleep, willing and hoping that it takes root in my mind.
The problem with thinking and feelings are that you can think whatever you want, but feelings never lie.
