"The way I see it, Sam, this is your tipping point. Right now, Kate is right there, ready for you to take hold of your future together. But if you miss it, you're going to lose her for good."
"That's assuming Kate even wants me." Why did he continue to push me to her? She was the one who didn’t want me. Yes, she said that I had wormed my way into her heart, but that was hardly a declaration of love and commitment.
"Sam, what do you really want?"
"I want her!" I turned away, hating that I couldn’t have held that declaration in.
"Then you have to try again because if you don't, you will look back at this moment and regret it, probably even worse regret than having left five years ago. You know as well as I do that this is the make-or-break moment for you and Kate."
He was right, but my pride and anger didn't care. I set my glass and scotch bottle on the coffee table and stalked toward the front door.
"Are you going to see Kate?"
I shook my head. “Kate is the last person I plan to see."
For the next week, I did two things—I worked my ass off during the day and then drank the night away. I drank to numb the pain, but also to quiet Max's words that ran on an endless loop in my head. He’d returned to New York two days ago, so I was able to get away from the looks of disappointment, but his words stayed.
I’m the one who’s right, I defended myself.
Would you rather be right or happy?I could hear Max replying.
I’d just poured my first drink of the night when there was a knock at the door.
I opened the door. “Kate.”
She stood on my stoop looking uncertain. “I have a doctor’s appointment Thursday at nine in the morning.”
"You could have texted me that information. You didn't have to drive all the way out here to tell me." Why was she here?
"Right." I could see her retreat into herself. She took a step back.
Fuck. I was being an asshole to my child's mother. I opened the door. "Come in."
She hesitated. Her behavior reminded me of when we were in New York, hesitant and subdued. Was she about to deliver a new blow to me?
I studied her as she stepped through the door. More than anything, she looked nervous. What the hell did she think I was going to do to her?
"Can I get you something to drink? I have some tea, I think."
"Tea would be nice."
Okay, so that meant she was willing to stay and talk. I led her to the kitchen. She sat at the small table as I prepared a mug of hot water and scrounged my cupboards for a teabag.
The kitchen filled with an awkward silence as I waited for the water to heat in the microwave. Finally, the microwave beeped. I pulled the mug out and plopped the teabag in, bringing it to Kate. I considered finding my bottle of scotch but decided that it might look bad, so I sat at the table across from her.
"You're not going to have any?" she asked.
I shook my head. "I'm not much of a tea drinker."
She looked down at her tea and then sat back as if she wasn't going to drink it. She finally looked up at me and then stood. "I just wanted to let you know about the doctor’s appointment."
I rose from my chair. A feeling of panic grew in my gut. She was leaving. It was then that I was willing to acknowledge that I wanted her to stay, that I had hoped her coming here had meant something.
"You came all the way out here just for that?"
Again, her expression and actions made me think she was nervous. The way she looked away or bit her lip... it was very un-Kate-like.
It drew me to her with a deep urge to comfort her. I stepped closer to her. “What’s going on, Kate?"