Page 109 of Rebellious Hearts
I sighed. “Yeah, I know. I’ll have to do something soon. I just… don’t feel ready for any of it.”
“I know,” Amy said sympathetically, although there was no way she could possibly know. But I appreciated her being here and trying to reach out to me.
We got into her car, and she drove through the streets of Newport.
“Where are we going?”
“There’s an artisan market not too far, and I want to see what the stalls have to offer. Besides, they have pretty great food at these places too, and damned if I’m not going to try every single one of whatever they’ve got.” She chuckled.
I smiled despite myself.
We parked between a bunch of cars in a lot a few minutes later and got out. The market was sprawled out along cobblestone streets, and booths were lined up everywhere. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted toward us.
My stomach twisted at the smell. It wasn’t only nausea—the coffee made me think of Ben. Was this coffee he might have liked? Or would he have had a better brew? He would have been able to tell what kind of coffee it was by just sniffing the air.
A pang of longing shot into my heart but I tried to push it away.
“Are you okay?” Amy asked.
“Just feeling sick.” It wasn’t a lie.
We meandered through the stalls, studying the wares on display. Around us, the crowd bustled with energy and laughter, and the sounds of live music drifted from a stage somewhere nearby.
We paused at a stall with intricate ceramic pottery. I traced the patterns with my fingers.
“These are stunning,” I said and lifted a glazed mug to study it.
Amy nodded. “The talent here is incredible.” She ran her fingers over some hand-woven fabric.
I put the mug down again. I wanted to buy it, but for some reason it made me think of coffee and Ben again, and I didn’t need that.
The next part was a food court. Artisanal cheese, fresh pastries, smoothies… there was something of everything.
And Amy was determined to taste all of it.
The smells just made my stomach roll again and I bought a bottle of water.
Amy bought a smoothie, after she’d tasted everything else, and nodded toward a bench a little out of the way.
“Aren’t you getting anything else?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Water’s just fine for now.”
Amy nodded, and we walked to the bench and sat down. The sun dappled on my skin through the canopy of leaves above, and I took a deep breath when a breeze ruffled my hair. It was good to be outside, to be between people again. I shouldn’t have locked myself away like that.
“Thanks for getting me out here,” I said. “I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”
“You’ve been through a lot.”
“God,” I groaned. “I feel like I’m drowning under it all. I’m so overwhelmed. I’m not ready for any of this.”
“You have time,” Amy said softly. “You have a few months to wrap your head around it.”
I nodded. She was right. Was eight months enough time to get used to the idea that I was going to be a mom? Enough time to realize I had to give up everything that was important to me and raise a child?
My heart sank.
“Hey,” Amy said, and when I opened my eyes, they were filled with tears. “Talk to me.”
