Was doing some sort of spell to make her period come asking too much? “Not make me watch a horrible movie and let me eat all the chocolate chip cookies I can stuff in my face.”
“Done.” Daphne picked up the chocolate chip cookie plate and handed it over. “So what are you going to do? Do you want kids?”
“I didn’t think so but…” She rubbed her palm in a circle on her belly, the motion calming her even if it didn’t lessen any of the uncertainty in her life right now. Sawyer didn’t want to marry her, not really. He just wanted to force the unexpected event to fit into the plan he already had worked out for his life. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Try,” Daphne said.
Clover took in a deep breath and tried to organize the thoughts whirling around in her head. The truth of it was she hadn’t tried to put everything into words before. All she knew was that everything hurt and she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. So she started with the point she was most certain of and started talking.
“I love my mom, but that’s not the life I ever wanted for myself,” she said. “She eats apple pie every Sunday even though she hates it and that’s just one example of how she stuffs away what she wants for someone else. Plus, she never gets to go anywhere. Sparksville and my dad are her whole world—along with Bobby and me, of course. I didn’t want that. I wanted to live. I wanted to experience every new thing out there. I didn’t want to miss out on a single experience when she missed out on a million because she was tied down by her family. I never questioned it.” Her heart hammered against her ribs and she took a second to swallow past the emotion blocking her throat. “But now I look around and realize that I’m twenty-six years old, have never held a job for longer than a few months, have been all over the globe, and I’m not any closer to feeling like I have it all than I was when I was in my old bedroom in high school writing in my diary that I’d never end up like my mother.” This was it, that thing looming in the dark shadows of her head, the ones she never bothered to shine a light on—not until she answered that ad for a personal buffer. “Then I met Sawyer and I started to like being in one place. Being with him wasn’t boring or stifling or a chore. It was…thrilling and fun and a little bit scary, but in a good way.” Her pulse sped up as all sorts of things she’d been afraid to consider started clicking into place. “I was still trying new things and new experiences—it was just a pineapple shake at a diner instead of a drink most people couldn’t pronounce in a country I’d never been to before. And when the condom broke, I freaked out but not all the way. Part of me was…hopeful and excited about the possibility of a baby and of having a life with Sawyer.” The realization was freeing even as she acknowledged the bittersweet futility of it all. “But when he asked me to marry him out of obligation it was like watching all the things I didn’t even realize I was starting to want get blown out of the water.”
“Oh God,” Daphne said with a soft groan as she leaned forward and gave Clover a sympathetic hug. “You fell in love.”
“I think I did.” And there went the waterworks with the very glamorous addition of a runny nose because this was what her formerly very happy life had come to.
Her best friend grabbed a napkin from the stack next to the popcorn bowl and handed it to her. “It’s not the worst thing to have happen, Clover.”
Her hands shaky and her breath coming in tortured gasps, Clover wiped her cheeks dry and blew her nose and yanked back control over her tear ducts. “I won’t marry him because he feels responsible for a baby that may not even exist, but I can’t seem to walk away from him, either.”
“So you wait and see if you’re pregnant.”
Clover stuffed half a cookie in her mouth because if these weren’t the kind of emotions that needed to be eaten away, she didn’t know what kind were. “And then?”
“Then I’ll be here for you like I’ve always been, and I’ll support you in whatever you choose,” Daphne said and held out her pinky. “Promise.”
Barely managing not to start sniffling again, Clover straightened out her pinkie finger and touched it to Daphne’s. A pinky promise was about as good as it was going to get for her right about now and she knew it, but sometimes that was good enough—and right now it had to be because she was still fake engaged to a man she loved for real who didn’t love her back.
…
The next morning with his suitcase in hand, Sawyer took a last look at Clover’s closed bedroom door, clamped his jaws together tight enough to rattle his teeth, and stepped into the elevator. He kept his gaze on the buttons lighting up one after the other rather than his own reflection in the mirrored doors. He didn’t need to look to see the dark circles under his eyes that were minimized if not eliminated by his glasses. Three days of near silence between him and Clover—with most of their talking being at the office about the Singapore deal—had left him feeling like shit.
Neither of them had mentioned the possible baby or his marriage proposal. Was he a chicken shit for letting it lay? Probably. But he’d promised himself to give her space and so that’s what he was going to do. His phone vibrated against his chest and he withdrew it from his inside jacket pocket.
Mom: We need to talk.
That was definitely not going to happen.
Sawyer: Headed off to airport for a quick trip to Singapore. Talk when I get back?
He stared at his phone, half believing it might just explode at any moment.
Mom: Of course.
He let out the breath he’d been holding right as the elevator doors opened. He nodded at Irving on his way through the lobby and made it almost to the doors when his phone vibrated in his hand.
Mom: Is Clover going with you?
His gut clenched and his steps faltered just enough as he walked through the Carlyle Towers front doors that Linus gave him a funny look as he held open the Town Car’s door. Sawyer recovered his stride and got into the car’s back seat. He stared at the empty seat beside him before answering his mom’s question.
Sawyer: No.
Mom: Have a safe trip. Good luck with Mr. Lim.
Finally nailing this Singapore deal should be all he was thinking about right now, but it wasn’t. Instead, all he could think about during the drive to the airport, the walk through security, and checking into the elite class VIP lounge was Clover. What was she doing right now? Was she feeling okay? Was she scared? Was she excited? Did she hate his guts? Was she going to say yes? Was he a complete and total fucking whiny wimp?
Survey says yes. Man up, asshole.
Sawyer grabbed a bag of chips and sat down in one of the lounge’s empty seats. The airport version of the news was playing on a big screen TV and an older man was reading a newspaper in the next seat. A row over, a toddler dressed in a T-shirt with a cartoon pig on it and a tutu skirt wandered from one end of the chairs to another under the watchful gaze of her parents. The kid sang some nonsense song as she patted her hands three times on the chair before moving on to the next one. Whatever game she was playing, it had her entertained.