That’s the way my life is.
But those three or four minutes I spent choking to death – they’d be the best minutes of my life.
I was so sure for the nine months she grew bigger with another man’s baby, the more obvious it became, the less I’d be able to tolerate looking at her.
I was terrified the ache at seeing that stark reminder right in front of me would send me over the edge and into heartbreak induced insanity. I was scared I’d end up leaving. Pack my shit up and escape into the night just to get away, or worse – and much more likely – stay, and kill myself slowly by watching.
But it hasn’t worked out that way. I’m not naïve. I’m not ignoring reality. I see her stomach, I see her new body. But what I see is more and more beautiful every day that passes.
As long as I don’t dwell on genetics, I find myself hopeful for the future. I want to meet her baby, because he’s hers. That baby is of her blood, which means I might just get a clone of my best friend.
There would be two of them.
“Umm…” She self-consciously crosses her arms over her chest. “So…”
“Right.” I back up toward the kitchen. “You get dressed. Don’t rush. Don’t trip. I’m ready when you are.”
When she steps out of the room and heads for her bedroom, I go to the coffee pot and blow out a frustrated breath when I find it empty. Not dirty empty. But clean. As though she hasn’t turned it on yet today.
I search in her pantry and find a jar of instant. I flip on the hot water and grab mugs out of the cupboard. “Do you want a coffee?”
“No, thanks.”
I jump like a girl when her voice comes from right behind me. She stands in slacks and a half-buttoned shirt. With a hand on her popped hip and the V between her brows digging in from her scowl, I smile. “Um… Is there a problem?”
“Yeah, there’s a fucking problem.” She stomps past me to the fridge. “My problem,James, is the internet says I’m only allowed one, count it,one, cup of coffee a day.” She slams the door and spins back with a gallon of milk. “Do you know how much that is?” She slams the cold bottle against my chest. “Not e-fucking-nough.”
I wrinkle my nose playfully. For the first time in forever, I’m wearing a real smile in the same room as her. “This coffee thing’s really messing with you, huh?”
I duck fast when she throws a pen at my head.
Morning-Izzy is feisty.
“Do you realize that once Bean’s here, if you breastfeed, your caffeine allowance stays the same?” I dodge again when she throws a second pen.
“You’re a jerk!” Digging in her silverware drawer, I worry for my life until she stops with tense shoulders. “Wait, how do you know this stuff?”
I shrug my shoulders nervously. Laughter cuts off and self-consciousness replaces it. “I looked it up. No big deal.”
I try to wave her off, but she steps forward until her belly almost touches mine. “Why’d you look it up?”
Her minty breath fans my face and tempts me to close my eyes. If I just lean forward a tiny bit, I could reach–
“Jim. Why’d you look it up?”
I step back and shrug.Be cool. You’re not hopelessly in love with someone who can’t and won’t love you back.“Because you’re my best friend. Best friends are interested in what the other is doing. I also happened across something about Kegels and perineum massages. Are you regularly massaging your perineum, Bubs?”
She snorts and presses her forehead to my chest. Jesus, to have her in my arms every day. To bury my nose in her messy hair. There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t give.
I’d die a happy man if I got just one chance to sniff her hair while she slept on my shoulder. Or better yet, if her hair curtained us while she rode me to her peak.
I break our contact and step away. I’d die if she felt my growing dick against her belly. That’s not something our broken foundations can handle today. I step back to the counter and keep making my coffee while she disappears without another word.
She’s gone for more than ten minutes, and because I want to know everything about her life, I snoop. I poke my head into her fridge; lots and lots of orange juice. Then her freezer; frozen hotdogs. Jesus, this girl can eat hotdogs like they’re going out of business.
As soon as I hear her footsteps on the floor above, I flip the freezer door closed and turn to watch. Her half-done top is now straight and buttoned. Her bed-messy hair now hangs in a sleek ponytail that rains down her back and tickles her spine. Glossy lips and a light layer of mascara, she stops in front of me and breaks my heart all over again.
She’s so fucking pretty it hurts my chest.