Page 15 of Wedding Whitney
The issue isn’t Whitney.
I know that for sure.
She’s beautiful, kind, sexy, sweet, and independent. Everything I’ve ever wanted wrapped up in the most gorgeous package I’ve ever had the pleasure of unwrapping. I love her with everything I am, but that’s part of the problem. I loved Addy once too, and if we’re going to set off on a life that might be riddled with miscarriages, constant testing, and heartache, it might be better to walk away now.
I don’t have her results yet, but I can’t shake the bad feeling in my gut, like something really bad is about to happen. My knee-jerk reaction is to protect Whitney at all costs, even if I wind up breaking both our hearts. But I can’t make a decision like that lightly, especially considering I don’t have all the information I need to make it.
I toss and turn until about five-thirty before I get up, take a shower, and sneak out of the house like a thief in the night. I feel a little bad about that, but I’ve slid a note under Whitney’s door, so she won’t worry.
Aaron isn’t landing until closer to ten, so I’m going to find a place to have breakfast and maybe go for a run. I haven’t worked out at all the last week, and it feels strange. Training camp starts the day after we get back from the honeymoon, which is terrible timing, but Lillian needed as much time as possible to put together the type of wedding we’re having, so I knew I would have to run and lift weights while we’re in Europe.
The wedding is probably another one of my issues.
A big-ass ordeal of a wedding that I don’t want.
Whitney never asks for anything, ever, but she asked me to help her indulge her grandmother on this one thing.
Who the hell am I to say no since I’m not paying for it?
Guilt rocks through me because I shouldn’t be having doubts at this late stage of the game, and it feels disloyal as hell to be thinking all these dark thoughts without even talking to Whitney about them.
In a little while, I’ll talk to Aaron, though, and if anyone can talk me off a ledge like this, it’s him.
I find an open diner, eat a huge breakfast, and then go on a five-mile run. I almost puke at the end, with so much in my stomach, but it feels good to sweat out all my frustrations. I cool down as I walk back to my car and stop to buy a bottle of water from a street vendor at the park. Then I head for the airport. Aaron said he would meet me outside, and I spot him right away.
He lifts a hand in greeting as I slow to a stop, and Aaron throws his suitcase in the back and gets into the passenger seat.
“Hey!” He gives me a grin. “How’s it going?”
“You have no idea,” I mutter, pulling into traffic.
“Christ, what does that mean?”
“Would I be the world’s biggest dumbass if I canceled the wedding?”
Aaron bursts out laughing. “You’re shitting me, right?”
I don’t respond, and Aaron is suddenly quiet. “You’re serious?”
“I’m scared. For her.”
“For her or for you?”
I don’t answer again, and Aaron gives me a friendly punch in the arm. “Come on, man, this isn’t you. What’s going on?”
I catch him up to speed on the genetic testing we’ve done and the missing results.
“So you’re being a dumbass before you’ve even gotten the results?”
“But how could they lose them? That doesn’t just happen in today’s world of technology! There must be something wrong.”
“They lose shit all the time,” Aaron protests. “Doctor’s offices, utility company, the driver’s license place—shit gets lost constantly, and you know it. You’re getting cold feet and using this genetic thing as an excuse.”
I look over at him. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Neither of us speaks for a few minutes. “You think it’s that simple?”
