“I’ve got it. You just clean yourself up.”
“Hailey. You're going to get hurt. Let me clean this up,” Bryan said.
“You go pick out a move for us to watch and get the food set up. I’ll clean this up,” I said.
“Stop it, Hailey. I’ve got it. These shards are sharp. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“Just let me do this, Bryan.”
“Hailey, back up.”
It was the tone of his voice that caught me off guard. I looked up into Bryan’s eyes and saw a fire there I hadn’t seen in a long time. He was angry with something, angry with whatever the hell had rattled him this morning. That pretty much confirmed for me that he hadn’t gone where he said he was going, but why would he lie to me? Why would he tell me he had to work if he was going somewhere else? Had something happened to Drew? The business?
Did he have to go see Ellen for something?
I slowly backed my way out of the kitchen as Bryan started picking up the shards of ceramic. Tears were pooling in my eyes, threatening to race their way down my cheeks. I could feel my hands trembling as I backed myself all the way onto the carpet of the living room, watching as Bryan cleaned up the mess and muttered to himself. I couldn’t catch what he was saying, but I knew it wasn’t good. I knew he wasn’t happy, and I could feel it spoiling the only day of the week we had to spend with one another.
Why was he hiding the truth from me? Why was he keeping secrets from me? Was it because he thought I was keeping one from him? I thought I had done a good job of covering up what happened at the art gallery. I thought I had done a good job of voicing what was wrong without divulging too much. It was enough that I was traveling down this road of pain. Bryan obviously had enough going on himself. Watching him murmur to himself and slip on the chocolate milk unsteadily confirmed that I had made the right decision in not telling him about that man who’d come in and threatened me.
But was he keeping secrets because he knew I was?
I settled myself on the couch and began pulling out food. Sandwiches and soups and salads and drinks. Bread and chips to munch on and dips to enjoy. I spread everything out on the table as the shards of the broken mug clinked their way into the trash can, and tears began to spill down my face.
I couldn’t get myself to settle down.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you like that,” Bryan said.
“It’s fine,” I said, sniffling.
“Hailey, are you crying?” he asked.
I wiped away the tears quickly as Bryan rushed over to me.
“Hailey, why are you crying?” he asked.
“You just need to be careful, okay?” I asked. “Even if you are telling me the truth, which I’m not sure you are, it could’ve easily been you who was hurt today.”
“But I wasn’t,” Bryan said. “It wasn’t me. I’m just fine.”
“Physically, maybe. But not mentally. You would’ve never gotten irritated with a broken glass like that before.”
“I just didn’t want you cleaning it up. Had you lost your balance and fallen on those sharp slivers, you could’ve really hurt yourself.”
“I was fine cleaning it up,” I said.
“Sweetheart, I can’t imagine what this pregnancy is putting you through. And I know you feel I treat you like a pariah sometimes or like a porcelain doll, but the truth is, you’re carrying my child. You’re growing a human being, and you have to take that into account with every decision you make. If you’re hurt, that child feels your pain. If you’re sad, our child feels that sorrow. And I know you’re frustrated, and I know you’re over this pregnancy, but you can’t make decisions without first taking into account the child you’re carrying.”
His hand came up and wiped away at a tear that was rushing down my cheek.
“You have to be careful for our daughter’s sake,” he said, grinning.
“And you have to be okay for our son’s sake,” I said sincerely.
“Hailey?” he asked.
“What?”
“You said that a little too seriously.”