Dr. Pritchard leaned over and pressed tissues into my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as she did so. “You have to try to get past that feeling long enough to talk to him. This is a case of total miscommunication, and you two have come too far to let that derail you.”
I nodded as I wiped the tears.
“And Joss.”
“Yeah?”
She smiled kindly. “Congratulations.”
She was the first person to say it to me in person, and although I understood it was my own fault that no one else had, it was still nice to hear it. “Thank you.”
***
I shutdown the laptop after having just bought up every self-help book Amazon had on being a first-time mom. After my session with Dr. Pritchard I’d come home to an empty apartment and gone into this hyper mode, cleaning and tidying, throwing things out. I’d also ignored reminders that Braden and I weren’t sharing the same bed when I went into the guest room to measure up and saw his stuff scattered everywhere. This was going to be our kid’s nursery. I was thinking yellow or green for a color scheme since those were both gender neutral.
I’d then opened up my laptop to an e-mail from my new agent, telling me she’d sent off my manuscript to the publisher, and she would like me to start thinking up concepts for a new book.
For a while I typed up notes for several ideas I’d come back to, to flesh out later.
And then I’d started freaking out that I knew nothing about being a mother and began an online shopping spree.
Nerves frayed, I stood in front of the mirror in our bedroom and lifted my T-shirt.
No bump yet.
I smoothed my hand over my stomach thinking how weird it was that there was a little person inside of me whom I already loved beyond reason.
Now if only my husband would give me a chance to tell him that.
I glanced at the space between the window and the bed and wondered if there was room to put the baby’s crib there for a while. I wanted him or her to be close to us. I already knew I’d find it difficult to sleep if I didn’t know our kid was safe and at arm’s reach.
After a few minutes of fruitless search for the measuring tape, I wandered back into the guest room to see if I’d left it in there. I found it on the bedside cabinet, but as I moved away, the address on a letter half-hidden under a book drew me up short.
Heart beating obnoxiously loud, I slipped the letter out from under the novel and fear prickled my skin in cold shivers as I read it.
My fingers went numb and the letter fluttered out of my grasp to the floor.
It was a letter to Braden’s tenants, asking them to vacate the premise in one month’s time. It was his bachelor penthouse on the Meadows. The one he’d put up for rental when he moved in with me.
The one he could take back from tenants on a short notice if he needed it for personal usage.
My doorbell rang.
A welcome distraction from the pure fear running cold in my veins.
“Liv?” I said, after I opened my front door, surprised to see her on my doorstep.
Olivia and I were good friends, but for some reason she wasn’t the first person I expected to see.
Jo and I were closer. Liv and I only knew each other because of Jo, but we’d quickly banded together as fellow Americans and book enthusiasts.
Liv’s eyes washed over me in concern and I instantly tensed. I knew what she was seeing. Dark circles under my eyes because I hadn’t been sleeping; a pale, icky complexion; and hair that was all over the place.
“Is Braden here?” she asked casually as she barged right past me and into the flat.
There was no need for barging. I welcomed her presence as long as we talked about anything else but Braden and my pregnancy.
“No, he’s at work,” I replied as I followed her into the kitchen.
When I got there she was already making coffee. She frowned at me. “You need to take better care of yourself.”
“I’ve been busy,” I hopped onto a different subject quickly. “A literary agent in New York now represents me.”
Liv smiled in excitement. “She loved your book?”
“She loved my book.”
“Joss, that’s amazing.”
I smiled back, knowing out of everyone Liv would be the one to really get how cool it was. Liv was a librarian. Books were her passion.
When her eyes dipped to my stomach, uncertainty entering their depths, I cut off her obvious next question.
“She thinks I should start working on another.”
To my relief, Liv let me get away with the distraction, listening to me yammer on about my different ideas as we settled in the sitting room with coffee and biscuits. Anything, anything, to forget the letter I’d just found.
I was in midsentence about this crazy dystopian idea I had that was completely not what my agent had in mind when she asked me to think up new concepts, when the front door opened.
Braden.
I felt my whole body lock with tension as I stared, waiting with this horrible sick feeling in my stomach, for Braden to appear in the doorway and crush me.
He appeared, looking just as tired as I felt, and stopped in the doorway. “Liv,” he greeted her before glancing at me. His eyes instantly narrowed at the sight of me. “Did you sleep today?”
Are you leaving me? “I couldn’t.”
Appearing annoyed, he sighed. “You need to get some sleep.” Tugging on his tie, he strode out of sight.
“Joss?” Liv’s whispered anxiety brought my attention back to her. She looked so worried for me.
“Girl, what are you doing?”
What am I doing? What am I doing? “Don’t.” She didn’t know shit.
We sat in taut silence, sipping on coffee.
“I’ve got a late meeting with Adam,” we heard Braden say as he wandered down the hall. Another lie. The front door slammed behind him. I flinched and desperately tried not to cry. This pregnancy was turning me into an emotional black hole.
“Oh, honey,” Liv stood up as if she was coming to hug me.
I held up a hand to stop her. “You hug me and I won’t stop crying. And I need to not cry.”
She froze, looking helpless and angry that she felt that way.
I knew exactly how she felt. “It’s not me.” I needed someone other than Dr. Pritchard to know that. “I haven’t shut him out. I’m just having a really hard time right now and I ruined it. I ruined this for him.”
“He’s the one not talking to you?”
“He talks. But it’s … it’s like he can barely stand to be in the same room as me. He hasn’t asked me how I feel about it now that the shock has worn off. He doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want me to touch him… .”
“I’m sorry, Joss.”
“He’s never been like that.” The letter came back to mind and I felt that panic swallow me whole.
“I think I’ve fucked up.” My hysterical laughter immediately turned into loud, hard sobbing I couldn’t control. I couldn’t even be mortified that I was breaking down. I was crying too hard to care.
I felt Liv’s comforting warmth as she gently nudged me aside on the chair and snuggled in beside me so she could pull me into her arms. And then everything just disappeared as I let her comfort me, the tears soaking her shirt a testament to the fact that I wasn’t alone.
I wasn’t aware of the shaking stopping, or the tears drawing to a halt. Everything was just black as I finally fell into the deep relief of sleep.
***
My eyes felt crusty as I tried to open them, consciousness coming to me, and with it the feel of a heavy warmth resting on my waist.
As I opened my peepers I realized they felt swollen and that’s when I remembered why. I tensed at the memory of crying in Liv’s arms at the same time I looked into my husband’s sleeping face.