Page 97 of Stolen Kisses
She headed toward her driver’s side, but then stopped and for some reason she looked over to exactly where Noah was standing. Her body stiffened as she realized that it was him. For a moment, Noah didn’t know what to do. Did he wave? Were they on friendly terms? Did he step over and see if he could help? Did he turn and head in the opposite direction because she put the brakes on in their relationship when it couldn’t have been going better? When he was absolutely sure that he could never love anyone else as much as he loved her.
Krista made the decision for him by quickly looking away and ducking inside her car. So that’s how it was going to be between them now. They couldn’t even share space, just like Abby and Sam. This was exactly what he’d always feared in dating his best friend, the absolute worst thing he could imagine. He’d lost her. For good.
Turning, he headed home—not his forever home anymore. Soon he’d be moving somewhere with an actual foundation. Somewhere with lots of room. With hot water. With a fishing pier in the backyard. He wished more than anything he could call up his best friend and tell her the good news. Man’s best friend would have to do tonight, except Beauty was still sleeping as he entered his houseboat. So instead, he grabbed a beer and headed to his lawn chair on the front of the boat to toast his new endeavor, alone.
—
“It was nice seeing you with someone at Thanksgiving,” Krista’s mom said, opening the conversation.
Krista’s stomach soured. She absolutely did not want to talk about Noah with her mother. It’d been a long time since she’d brought someone home and the relationship had already crumbled. “Yep.” Krista kept moving, making her mom work to keep up with her as they shopped. Krista hadn’t been able to go shopping when all the good sales were going on during Black Friday because she’d been working at the hospital. She liked to get her Christmas shopping done early, though, before all the good stuff disappeared off the shelves and she was stuck giving crappy gifts. “Do you think Dad will like this?” Krista pulled an ugly sweater in front of her. There was a picture of a man golfing on the front.
Her mother frowned. “Your father doesn’t golf. And you’re working hard to change the topic. Did you and Noah have a fight?”
“Not really,” Krista said, placing the sweater back on the rack.
“So everything is okay with you two?” Her mother smiled, which Krista found curious. Had her mom liked the idea of her dating Noah? Not that it mattered anymore.
“No. Actually, we broke up,” Krista said, then turned and started walking fast again.
“Krista…” Her mom was shorter and therefore was nearly running in the aisle to keep up. “What happened? You two have always been so close. I thought that this was finally it. That Noah was the one.”
Krista turned. “The one? Why would you think that?”
“Well, because he’s the reason you’ve never gotten serious with all the others, right?”
“No. No, of course not. I just never clicked with the other guys I’ve dated. Few as they were.”
“So you’re saying you didn’t click with Noah?” her mom asked. “Because you sure looked like you were clicking on Thanksgiving Day.”
“We click. We just…he’s just…” Krista shook her head. “Noah isn’t the kind of guy who marries and has kids, okay? He’s never going to have a white picket fence. I can do without the fence, but not the other stuff. It’s just not meant to be.”
Her mom’s eyes slanted sympathetically. “Are you sure?”
Krista thought of what she’d overheard at Grace and Jack’s wedding. If she hadn’t been sure of that fact before, that piece of information had solidified her sureness. “I am. And that’s okay.” Krista’s shoulders bounced as if this was no big deal. “It’s fine.”
“Aww, honey.” Her mother wrapped her arms around her and pulled her in for a big hug, which in turn made Krista want to fall apart. The truth was, she wasn’t okay without Noah. She missed him. She ached for him and she feared that she always would.
Krista pulled back and sniffled, a lump steadily rising in her throat. She directed her attention back to shopping. “Okay, let’s do this. Christmas is only a month away.”
She bought presents for her father, Joey, her coworkers, and little Adam, who Karen was actually right about—Krista had gotten way too attached. But that’s who she was. Why fight it? She loved attaching herself to her pediatric patients. She loved helping their caregivers. The only part of her job she didn’t love, the part that she hated, was the paperwork. She also realized she hadn’t loved standing in for Karen when she’d been out. She was good at resolving conflict, but she didn’t want that to be her everyday job.
After shopping, Krista and her mom had lunch and then Krista stopped at the pharmacy before heading home. She walked through all the aisles to make sure no one she knew was in the store and then she lifted a pregnancy test and dropped it into her basket with shaky hands. She paid, avoiding the clerk’s curious look—or maybe that was just her being paranoid. Then she drove home, set the test on her counter, and stared at the pink and blue box. She’d never had to take one of these in all of her near twenty-nine years. She’d always been responsible when it came to sex because there was too much at stake not to be. The condom breaking was a fluke. She’d had friends that it had happened to, and none of them had ever gotten pregnant because of it. She and Noah probably hadn’t, either. There was still a question in her mind, though. She’d had a rolling nausea ever since Grace and Jack’s wedding. Nothing that pushed her into bed like it had that night. And maybe it was all in her head. Maybe her worry and excitement—because she would be excited if she were pregnant even if Noah chose not to be in the picture—had her stomach tightening.
She held the box with a shaky hand and read the directions, which couldn’t be more simple. Pee on the stick and wait to see a plus or a minus. Wait to see if her world was irrevocably changed forever.
“You can do this, Krista.” She pulled a deep breath into her lungs. Exhaled. Took another breath. Then another, until she was nearly hyperventilating. Then her phone lit on the counter beside the box and Abby’s name popped up on the screen.
“Hello,” Krista said shakily, grateful for the distraction.
“Are you okay?” Abby asked.
“Yes.” Krista’s voice cracked.
“I was just cooking and you popped into my brain and I couldn’t get you out. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Krista started to say yes again. Because she was strong and just fine. She took care of everyone else, not vice versa. But having people to talk to at the caregiver support group the other night had felt good. It’d felt good to lean on others. It was something she rarely did, but needed to do more of, she decided. “Actually, no. I’m the opposite of okay. Can you come over?”
“Turning my kitchen over to my sous-chefs. I’ll be right there.”
