“The baby. It moves inside the uterus, and you can feel it.” He never had any of his own, so I feel the need to explain.
“I know that,” he snarls.
“Do you want to touch my stomach? It could stop any minute, so you better hurry.”
He shakes his head fervently, but at least I’ve distracted him. Score.
I kiss him on the cheek, then run for my apartment, leaving Cece behind. She calls out for me to wait, but I’m gone, leaving her to deal with Mr.Darden—which might not be the best idea, considering how she’s blurting things out left and right, but I’ll take my chances. I need to get myself together before I talk to him.
I open the door and flip the lock. MissNational Peanut can dig out her own keys.
I dash for my room, remember I want food, run back out to the kitchen and snag Brogan’s chips, and then make it back to my roomand lock my door before she’s even made it to the den. With a satisfied exhale, I plop on my bed.
She knocks. “Why are you running from the kitchen?”
“I’m sick of the food police,” I call out. “I could legit starve.”
“Jesus. The salt-and-pepper chips again?”
“It’s been a tough day!” Crumbs fall out of my mouth. “You didn’t help matters!”
She is quiet on the other end, then says, “I’m sorry I’m leaving, Fran. It’s going to break my heart to not see you every day. You’re true blue, my little boo bunny.”
“Not today,” I grouse.
I hear her sigh. “Sorry I announced your pregnancy to the widow and Darden. You can escape this, you know—get away from Tuck and not worry. Move with me to Palo Alto. Beautiful weather, warm salt air, walks on the beach. Wouldn’t baby Cecelia look divine in a white bathing suit?”
I munch on a chip and lie back on the bed. “I hate sunshine and beaches. This is home.”
“I love you,” she says in her sweet voice.
My heart cracks. “I’m going to get ready for the gallery now, so ...”
“Have fun, and score some deals.” I hear her footsteps walking away, and tears threaten. Her walking away feels like a metaphor for when she really leaves.
Before I can think too hard about it, I send a text to Tuck.Thank you for the necklace. I love it.I chew on my lips and fire off another one.I saw your Pollock. It’s amazing.
I toss the phone down and let out a squeal. I said I was going to keep our relationship light, but I’m slipping into the unknown.
I blow out to the ceiling, then starfish on my bed and then cover my face.
I tap my fingers, waiting for a reply that never comes.
After quickly showering and changing into an ankle-length strapless black maxi dress and three-inch crystal stilettos, I am about to head out to the den when my phone pings from where I left it on the bed.
I jump on my comforter and grab it. I want it to be Tuck.
You missed seeing my girl when you were here. This is my Cherry.Attached is a pic of a small brown dog on a bed. Tuck holds her, a wry grin on his face when he took the selfie.
I dart to the bathroom, take the moth I’d seen earlier on the windowsill, and send him a pic of it on my shoulder.Meet Moth. He doesn’t eat, poop, or bark.
He sends me a pic of him without his shirt while lying on his bed, so I send him one of me in my dress. He replies with one of his feet, and I laugh, then threaten to block him if he sends more feet pics.
You shoved me out your door, I send him later as Herman gets a cab for me.
I was pissed.
And now?