Page 67 of Waiting for Her

Taking a deep breath, I step over the threshold, Rocky on my heels.

If I were here under other circumstances, I’d take my time, inspect every nook and cranny of his home. But, alas, he seems to be on a mission as he storms into the kitchen.

He opens the fridge, pulls out two bottles of water and tosses one to me. He walks into his living room and gestures for me to take a seat on the couch, his large frame taking up the bulk of a large dark brown suede recliner.

Rocky jumps up on the couch where there’s a blanket spread out, he curls up and sighs deeply like even he knows we’re in for a long talk.

“Mygirlfriend, Bri? Really?” Grady wastes no time in reminding me of my incredibly immature text.

“She was at the field yesterday, then over last night. On your lap. Kissing you,” my voice stays strong. Much stronger than I expected it to.

He raises an eyebrow. “And?”

So he’s not denying anything.

I shrug again. This time looking away, reaching out a hand to scratch behind Rocky’s ear. So very grown up of me.

“Bri.” Grady’s tone causes my head to jerk up, to return my focus on him.

I shift, tucking my legs up so they’re resting against the side of the couch.

I can do this. I can tell him everything. Right down to the ugly parts. No waiting, I launch right in.

“One week after I broke up with you, I found out I was pregnant. The days leading up to it, I spent every night tossing and turning. I felt sick to my stomach, but figured it was because deep down I knew I had made a mistake, that the other half of my soul was missing.” He winces, but now that I’ve started, I have to keep going. “Andy was actually the one who questioned me. He noticed me throwing up and could tell it wasn’t from a flu bug. It’s kind of creepy how he can tell when a woman is pregnant before they realize it themselves,” I chuckle.

He doesn’t return my laughter.

“Anyway,” I murmur, “Uh he went to the store, bought a bunch of tests and brought them back home. Sat me down and said no matter what the test said, he’d be there for me when I was finished. Then he hugged me tight. Kissed me on the cheek. Told me I was loved always. I cried. He laughed, handed me a bottle of water, and then shoved me into the bathroom and I peed on a stick. Then another and another. All three were positive. He asked me if I needed him to pee on one, too, because that’s what my mom made him do. He’s seriously such a dork,” I chuckle again and shake my head, feeling a little overwhelmed over the fact he’s one of the best things in my—in our—lives.

I notice the hurt in Grady’s eyes, the way he’s pressing his lips together and the desire to go over, wrap my arms around him and hug him is so overwhelming I have to press myself deeper into the cushions.

“Grady?”

“That should have been me,” he says quietly, angrily. “I love Andy but it should have beenme,” he repeats.

My heart feels like it could crack in two. It pounds so hard I can hear the beat, feel it between my ears.

“You’re right. It was selfish of me. I’m so sorry,” I tell him and hope he can hear the sincerity in my voice.

“What else?”

I drag my teeth over my bottom lip. “If I was depressed and sad before I found out, I spiraled out of control after. Everything I put into my mouth, what little that was, came right back up. I wasn’t sleeping. I cried more tears than I did when my dad died. I didn’t shower for four days and only did on the fifth day because my mom dragged me out of my bed and threw me under the running water, fully clothed.”

“Why?”

It’s a question no one has asked me, simple and to the point. Not even my mom asked me why I was so sad.

“Because I knew I only had two options. And I didn’t like either. I could tell you I was pregnant, and we could get back together, but you’d always wonder if the only reason I was with you was because I didn’t want to parent alone. I knew I messed up. And I needed to come to terms with the fact I had to earn your trust back. Telling you I was pregnant was not going to be the deciding factor in earning that again.”

“And the other?”

“The other option was for me to tell you, and us not get back together.”

“You had that little faith in me, huh?”

“No. I had faith in you. I knew you’d be there for me, for the baby. I knew you’d never turn your back on us. But I didn’t deserve for you to be there forme. If there was no baby in the picture, I mean.”

“You assumed I didn’t understand you were scared? That you didn’t see what happened to your mom and had become terrified it could trickle down to you?”

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