Everything Unexpected (29 page)

“Be very careful, Shane,” Holly threatens lightly.

“I promise,” I say with such intensity. “I won’t let anything or anyone hurt her.”

We both stand and Holly slams the trunk shut. “That better include you.”

Holly walks past me and calls out to Leah. “I’ll call you later.” She waves, a tight smile on her face.

Holly gets in her car and pulls away, leaving me just a few lengths away from Leah. I see her golden hair blowing in the breeze, almost completely hidden from view behind all the bags and gifts mounted in the back seat.

Before walking back to the Jeep, I inwardly beg to anyone listening for today to not completely turn to shit. I plead that everything I had planned for us tonight, the outcomes I hope for still to happen. Tonight was supposed to be about our future, not a fight to keep us from my past.

Walking around to the driver’s seat, I work on convincing myself that if I can just get Leah home, if I can just tell her everything I planned on saying, everything will be all right. More than that—everything will be perfect.

“Ready?” I ask, turning on the ignition.

Leah remains motionless, barely acknowledging me.

I press my lips together, reassuring myself once more everything will be fine and pull out onto the street. As I drive us home, I once more go over all the things I plan to tell her. None of that has changed. If anything, the importance of my words being spoken has only gotten stronger. The threat of something or someone destroying this chance has a way of putting things into perspective. No more waiting. No more interruptions. Leah Kessel is going to hear what I have to say. I just need to get her home so I can tell her.

Home
.

That’s the first thing I want to discuss with her. We’re about to become a family of three and I want us to be one who lives together. Every time I walk by that giant box that holds the pieces of our baby’s crib, I think about it. Think about the three of us being together, sharing one space. When I’m in Leah’s tiny apartment and see the piles of baby clothes, diapers, and blankets leaning up against the wall in the corner, I hate myself for not bringing it up earlier. I don’t know why I waited this long to tell her. Why I’ve waited this long to tell her how I really feel about her. How far deep I am for her.

So much yet so little has changed between us these last few months. She’s still my best friend, but she’s also become so much more. More than I could have ever wished for. More than I knew to wish for. This girl has changed everything, and I’m not going to let another day pass without her knowing it. We’ve waited six years.
I’ve
waited six years for this moment. I will not let the last five minutes derail it all.

I glance in her direction and see her eyes roaming around the car. Everywhere from outside the windows to the gifts piled in the back seat. Her eyes don’t stop, busily looking over every inch of this car. But not once do they fall on me.

“Lots of stuff back there,” I say, breaking the silence.

She looks over, her eyes finally focusing on me. Our eyes meet and hold for a few seconds before I need to turn back to look at the road.

“Yeah,” she says, facing forward. “No idea where I’m going to put it all.”

I tap her on the leg a few times before leaving my hand on top of her thigh. “We’ll figure it out,” I say, with confidence. I have it all figured out. This
will
work out. I feel my heart pound, not with nerves, because I’ve never been surer of wanting anything more in my life.

Once we arrive back at my place, I tell Leah to head on up while I text Bryan to come down and help unload the car. Even he’s surprised at the amount of stuff we brought back with us.

“Holy fuck,” he says, examining the full Jeep. “A baby needs all this stuff?”

“I doubt it,” I answer.

We start unloading the car, piling the boxes along the curb, when Bryan stops and folds his arms across his chest. “So, today is the day.”

I nod. “Today is the day.”

“Confident?”

I take a staggered deep breathe.

“Dude, you’re about to tell this girl you want to be a family unit or some shit like that. You need to do better than that,” he tells me.

I roll my shoulders, looking up at our loft windows on the third floor, imagining Leah in there, walking around, making herself at home like she always does. I want that with her. A place where both of us feel at home with each other, in a place that is
our
home.

“Hey.” Bryan cocks his head my way. “You love her?”

“Of course,” I say without thought.

“No, I mean, do you
love
her? There’s a difference.”

I raise a brow. “And you know the difference?” I say, skeptically.

“Yeah. I do,” he counters, a serious expression coming over him. “People are either in fucking love or they’re in fucking misery,” he says with more honesty than I’m used to hearing from him. I’m a bit thrown by it. He isn’t one to talk feelings too often, so his remark surprises me. It also leads me to believe we aren’t just talking about me and Leah anymore. For all the nagging we give Bryan for his strange relationship with Kendall, it finally dawns on me there is a reason they keep going back to each other. A reason neither of them can let the other go.

In fucking love or in fucking misery.

I think about which category I fall into. Which category I probably always fell into when it comes to Leah.

“I’m in love,” I tell him. “Completely.”

A grin tugs at his lips, followed by a look that tells me he already knew that. “Okay then. Let’s get all this shit upstairs so you can tell her that.”

After helping me bring up all the boxes, Bryan leaves to give Leah and me some privacy. I walk to the bedroom, my confidence level rising with every step, in both my feelings for her and my plan. Today, I am going to once more change the pace of our relationship. Move it in the direction I know it’s always been meant to go in. I’m done waiting for the right time or the right sign. My feelings are the fucking sign.

I feel like nothing can stop me, nothing except for the way I find her, sitting on my bed, waiting for me. Her back straight, head facing forward, hands held together in her lap. She looks up when I enter the room, expressionless. The slow blinking of her eyes her only movements.

“Everything okay?” I ask, slowing my steps.

Her eyes continue to meet mine for another few seconds before they dip low and away. “I’ve just been thinking,” she says.

“Okay.” I nod, taking another tentative step. “I’ve been thinking too. A lot lately—”

But my words seem to fall on deaf ears because she continues speaking as if I’ve said nothing.

“I’ve been sitting here, thinking about the same thing over and over again. Do you ever do that?” she asks, looking back up at me once again. “When you can’t fucking rid yourself of a thought, no matter how much you try?”

Her expression turns sharp, like glass. And just like glass, I see it’s incredibly fragile, ready to break into a thousand pieces if not handled properly. “Sometimes,” I say carefully.

A quick, short laugh escapes her lips.

“When I found out I was pregnant, I was so scared. I know you think I was strong and courageous and in control. But I wasn’t.” She shakes her head at the memory. “I was numb. It literally paralyzed me. I had no idea what to do, how to react, how to feel. A thousand emotions and fears ran through me all at once, but in a slow, painstaking way.”

This time when she looks up at me, her sad expression tightens everything in my chest. I take a step closer, wanting to comfort her, to make up for not being there when she first found out. But she doesn’t let me. She holds up her hand, indicating for me to stay right where I am.

“But my biggest worry was how
you
would react. Isn’t that silly? I’m the one who’s pregnant. I’m the one who ultimately was going to have to make the choice, but my biggest concern was what
you
would say.”

Every ounce of confidence I had walking into this room begins to dissipate faster than I can keep hold of. And it’s scaring the shit out of me.

“Comb—” I start, but she moves on.

“For days I carried around this sick worry inside of me. Terrified what we had done, what we were about to face, was going to ruin us. Ruin our friendship—”

“Nothing can ruin us,” I interrupt.

“Because you were my best friend, Shane,” she says, still not paying any attention to my words.

“And you’re mine,” I tell her, taking a step towards her, ignoring her plea for me to stay away. But the next words out of her mouth stop me midstride.

“Valentine’s Day,” she says, almost in a whisper. “That’s what I’ve been sitting here thinking about. Over and over. I keep telling myself I must have the dates wrong. Maybe…
she
had the dates wrong. I’ve been arguing with myself over it. Telling myself that while I was taking pregnancy tests, you couldn’t possibly have been out fucking other women. Right?” her tone pleading with me to agree. “That wouldn’t happen?”

This breaking, begging tone in her voice is one I’ve never heard from her before. One I know I never want to hear again. The thought of lying briefly crosses my mind. But just as quickly as that thought materializes, it disappears. I can’t lie to her. If I lie, there’s no way she’ll believe anything I have to say after to defend myself. I close my eyes and tell her the truth.

“It was just once,” I admit. “And I wish more than anything I could take it back. I wish it never happened but—”

“Oh my God,” her voice cracks. I look up to see her stand and start to walk out of the bedroom. I follow her out into the living room, watching her pace around the open space.

“Wait! Please listen to me,” I beg. This time it’s my voice that’s breaking slightly. “After my birthday, I was confused. What happened that night was…incredible. That’s the only word I can think of to describe it. And while I was in Australia and New York, you were all I thought about. That night was all I thought about.”

She stops pacing and turns to look at me, hurt and anger radiating from her. The way her eyes glare, the way her chest and shoulders rise and fall rapidly, holding back tears. It kills me. I want nothing more than to pull her to me and hold her close. To make that hurt and anger go away.

“When Bryan told me you had a date, I—I didn’t—” I take a second, trying my best to figure out how to explain my actions. “I was jealous and…pissed. It’s not an excuse, but I let what happen with Natalia happen because I was hurt. Angry at you.”

“Angry at me?” she says harshly.

“Yes,” I answer. “Because you were over it already.”

“So the best way to get over what happened with me was to get under someone else?” she asks, disappointment laced her voice. It feels like stabs to the chest.

“At the time, yes, that’s what I thought,” I admit.

“Wow. I can’t wait to see what you do next time I piss you off,” she says spitefully.

“That’s not fair!” I tell her. “Try and understand it from my point of view. I was going crazy thinking about you. When I left, there was something unfinished between us. I know you felt it too. But neither of us did anything about it. And that was a mistake. I should have said something then. And you should have as well! It wasn’t just an itch to scratch between us, Leah. We know it now and we probably knew it then too. Neither of us handled anything right that night. But we aren’t in a place like that anymore. We’re beyond that.”

“Why?” She shrugs. “Because we’re having baby?”

I stop myself from rolling my eyes and ignore the curtness in her voice at her question. “You know it’s not just that,” I say, taking a small, slow step towards her. I need to steer us in a direction where we can talk rationally. Where she’s calm enough to listen to what I’m saying more than what the memory of the last hour is screaming at her. A place that will remind her of what we’ve gone through over the last few months. What we’ve become to each other. The feelings I know we have for each other and that have changed everything between us. A place where the actions of one night have no impact on what we as a couple are today.

“You and I would have happened regardless.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

“Yes, you are,” I argue. “You and I both know that this, us,” I use my index finger to point between us, “would have happened. I’m sure of it. It was only a matter of time. It just happened faster because of the pregnancy.”

“So it
is
because of the baby,” she says, her voice raising.

“That’s not what I said! Stop putting words in my mouth,” I say, raising my own voice a little. I take a quick breath, releasing it slowly, knowing I’m the one who needs to remain calm if there’s even a chance of us talking this through tonight.

“You know what I’m certain about?” she asks. “I’m certain if it wasn’t for this pregnancy, our lives would not have changed at all. You’d still be traveling the world just like you are now. Gone for days, weeks at a time. And I’d be climbing the ladder at work, working my way to the big cases, the ones I know I should be getting.” A small snide smile forms on her lips. “But there
is
a pregnancy. And now I see it’s only my life that’s changed. You’re still living the life you had and I’m—” She lets out small laugh. “I’m struggling just to make it through each day.”

Her words sting.

“How can you think that? How can you think my life hasn’t changed?”

“I don’t know,” she says, shrugging. “Maybe it’s the crib still in pieces in that box. Unbuilt, unopened even. Ignored—”

“I haven’t ignored it,” I defend myself.

“Or maybe it’s that you still take off for trips around the world for who knows how long—”

“It’s my job—”

But she seems to be on a roll because she keeps coming at me with more accusations.

“Maybe it’s that we drove back here today in your Jeep. The same car that has no windows, doors that are paper thin.” Her tone is angry now. “I remember telling to you
months
ago it wouldn’t be safe for a baby. Yet there it is, parked downstairs on the street.”