Page 57 of Wish You Would

I glance over at him as he scrolls through Netflix looking for a movie. I can smell the scent of pine and man and everything that is Holden, and even though I know I’m fighting off something, I instantly feel so much better having him here next to me. It’s feels nice to have him so close to me again.

“Holden, I mean this in the nicest way, but… you know how to make soup?”

“I wasn’t going to make it from scratch, but I know how to open a can and heat it up.”

A small smile tugs at my lips. “Canned soup is just fine by me.”

He grins at me, and when it fades there’s a resounding apology in his big green eyes, for everything that’s happened between us over the last few weeks. Holden is a man of few words, and I’ve come to learn that he is very intentional with the way he looks at me. I want to offer him an explanation, and to ask him questions, but I don’t have the energy today. He returns his attention to the computer on his lap, and I feel my heart beat a little faster in my chest. Holden is so good at not making me feel guilty for being taken care of. He never makes me feel like I am too much. I’ve been myself with him since the day I moved in, and he accepts me exactly the way I am. Even the crazy parts.

I watch him from the corner of my eye only to wonder how long this unspoken truce between us will last. Instead of worrying about what will happen tomorrow or whether we’ll continue to be on good terms, I’m choosing to simply enjoy it while it’s here.

He presses play on the movie then props the laptop on top of a pillow before stretching out beside me, his muscular arms propped behind his head.

The movie starts. He choseLove Actually. I swoon at the realization that he chose a romance for me.

I fight the urge to grin from being so damn happy. It also feels so good to have Holden in bed next to me again. I lean into the pillows to enjoy the movie with a hand on my stomach to settle the queasiness.

FOURTEEN

THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING

Briar

I can’t be. This can’t be happening.

My legs begin to tremble, my heart is racing out of my chest. I clean up my mess and walk down the hall to my bedroom.

I need to be alone. I’m going to cry.

Shutting the door behind me, I collapse on the bed with my head in the pillows, feeling another wave of nausea roll through me.

“Oh god, how did this happen?” I whisper into the pillow, pulling my knees up to my chest in a fetal position. Of course, I know how this happened—I know how babies are made. But we used a condom. We were careful. What am I going to do?

I look at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test again, as if maybe I read the test wrong the first time. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes, blurring the little screen, but the two pink lines are still there.

I’m pregnant.

How am I going to tell Holden? How will he take it?

He doesn’t want kids. He doesn’t want a family. We’re not even together. I can’t even begin to imagine how he will react.

For three weeks, we barely spoke until last week when he found me on the boardwalk with a mess of groceries at my feet. After that night, we’ve had a few short conversations in passing, but we’ve both had a lot going on. Holden went away for two nights to his family’s cabin while I stayed home to rest and try to kick what I thought was the flu. I bury my face in my hands, still in disbelief. How the hell is this happening?

Holden had taken care of me, assuming that I was sick with the flu. How could I be so stupid? Not once did it cross my mind that I could be pregnant. How didn’t I know?

When he came home from the cabin, I had wanted to talk to him, to tell him that I missed him. That I missed our friendship, that before everything went off the rails I had more fun with him than I’d had in years. I was tired of giving him space and I hoped he’d come around to being my friend again, but the guy can be so stubborn. I guess I have been too.

Tears fall down my cheeks. Another wave of nausea passes through my belly.

Every day around dinnertime, the nausea and exhaustion return. All I seem able to do is lie in bed or read a book. I feel terrible.

And now I know why.

Dammit. What am I going to do?

One thing I know for sure: I’m going to have to sit down and talk to Holden. I have no other choice.

But how am I going to tell him?

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