Page 86 of Adoring Delaney

But when I asked, she’d flat out told me no.

I wasn’t happy about that. I wanted my ring on her finger, my baby in her belly, and our lives to be cemented in a way Delaney would always know the promises I’d been making were real and true and I’d never go back on them.

I wasn’t some wet-behind-the-ears, eighteen-year-old who thought a baby would fix a relationship or trap a woman into staying. But I did know, I wasted too much time.

I’d spent years doing all of the wrong things and it was time for me to start doing the right ones.

Tonight, we were having our second date. Third if dinner out with my friends counted, though I didn’t think it did and wisely I wasn’t going to ask Delaney her thoughts on this. I was taking her to this hole-in-the-wall restaurant that was widely known for having the best jazz bar in the area. Looking at the place, you’d never guess. It was small and dimly lit, the décor was from a time gone by still stuck in the thirties. The joint was classy, men wore slacks and women always a dress.

Tonight a sax player known as Tommy Feels was playing. And when he played the blues, if you closed your eyes and felt the music, you’d swear Coltrane himself was on stage.

I was almost home when my cellphone rang, my dash display told me it was Laney calling so I hit connect to answer.

“Hey, baby.”

“Where are you?” Trepidation and fear filled my truck. The first was coming from her, the last from me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just… where are you?”

“Almost home. Five minutes, but I can make it there in three if you need me to.”

“Drive careful but please come straight home.”

Fuck that. I pressed down on the accelerator and wove in and out of traffic.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll tell you when you get home.”

Not even her calling her house ‘home’, something I normally loved to hear, made the dread in my gut lessen.

“No. Now. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine, Laney. You gotta give me something. Are you safe?”

“I’m not hurt and I’m safe. I’ll show you when you get here.”

Show me?

I didn’t have the chance to question her further because she’d disconnected. I’d caught two lucky breaks, both stoplights I hit had been green and I’d made it home in the three minutes I’d told her I would. I pulled into the driveway and scanned the area. Her car was next to mine unharmed, no vandalism to the front of the house.

I hopped out of my truck and jogged to the front door, opened it, and didn’t hear the beeping I should’ve. Normally I’d remind her she needed to keep the alarm armed when she was home alone but one look at Delaney standing across the room had me rethinking my statement.

“What’s wrong?”

She was next to the kitchen table, arms wrapped around herself, and she was squeezing her biceps. Protecting herself against whatever she was staring down at.

Without words she lowered her chin and gestured to the table. There was a piece of lined paper obviously face down because the side I was looking at was blank. The envelope was sitting next to it, addressed to her, no return address but the cancelled stamp was from Virginia. It was also dated ten days ago. Next to it was a large stack of what looked like junk mail and local flyers.

“I forget to check my mail until the mailman comes to the door and leaves one of those sticky notes telling me the box is full.”

“Say again?”

I didn’t know why she was telling me about her mailman.

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