“I told Lex I didn’t want to see you.” I sigh. “I didn’t think that meant I’d be primarily alone for the next six months. I was just so overwhelmed with everything that happened that seeing you felt like too much.”
“Lex just kept saying you didn’t want to see me.”
“Gotta love the miscommunication,” I say.
“Makes me want to punch him in the face actually,” he muses.
“He was just making sure I was okay and protecting you. Didn’t want to complicate anything, I bet,” I offer, although I’m not thrilled with Lex’s unilateral decision right now either.
Adam doesn’t say anything, which makes me think he doesn’t agree with me.
Silence takes over, and just when I think he’s going to get up and leave, he looks up at me. “Did you really want to be a travel blogger?”
His question catches me off guard, but I realize he wants to know the real me. I pat the side of the bed next to me, where he joins me.
“I was one. That’s what I was before Charlie died.”
“Really?” He perks up.
“Yep. Travelled all the time. Wasn’t around to see how bad Charlie had gotten. I actually restarted the blog for some income. What about you? Clearly, your dream of always wanting to be a cop came to fruition.” I smirk.
“It did indeed. I’ve worked my way up and have been doing undercover work for almost ten years.”
Ten years. He doesn’t seem old enough to have done this for so long, although he has that weathered feel to him, like he’s seen a lot.
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Thirty-eight.” He arches an eyebrow, asking me silently how old I am.
“Twenty-eight. Almost twenty-nine actually.” I peek at the calendar on the wall. “In one week.”
“I’d say you’re too young, but I also know what you’ve been through.”
“It definitely ages a person.” I agree. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Will this ever be over? Like, truly over? Or am I stuck in this limbo?” My whispered words hold a fear that I don’t want to admit to.
“I’ll make sure it’s over; that, I promise you. I just can’t give you an answer as to when.”
I hold his gaze, and I know he truly means that. I’m just not sure how much longer I can stay here. Alone.
Because the truth is, how much longer is Adam really going to stay with me? A week? He has a job to get back to, and I’m not delusional enough to think he can just drop off the face of the planet like I can.
“Can I ask you something?” Adam asks.
“Anything.”
“Can I … feel?” He gestures to my bump that feels like it grew overnight.
“Of course.”
His hand tentatively grazes my stomach before he settles it front and center. “How far along are you?” he murmurs, just watching his hand.
“Just over five months. I have my twenty-week scan in two days.”
“What does that mean?” he asks.
