Page 153 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
I should bethrilled. And I think I’m happy? But I also know that this marriage isn’t going to work if I’m not honest with him and I … I can’t tell him yet. I need to sort things through in my own head first. Prepare myself for the inevitable fall out. I’m certain he won’t be calling me his wife after I tell him.
I suppose I should’ve never said yes to the proposal, but I didn’t expect it, and with everyone there … I didn’t feel like I could say no.
“Hey, where’d you go?” He teases, his smile growing.
I don’t think he’d be smiling like that if he knew what I was thinking.
“Sorry, just a lot on my mind.”
He sets his bowl down by my hip and stands between my spread legs. “I know this probably seems sudden and we haven’t properly talked about it, but I … after everything I just … I want you to know I’m serious about this. About us. We can have a long engagement if that’s what you want. But this”—he toys with the ring on my finger— “it’s my commitment to you. That I want you forever.”
Talk about a stab to the heart.
My head feels light, like I might truly pass out.
I open and close my mouth, willing the words to come out, to just tell him.
But it’s silence instead.
I don’t know what he’s thinking or what he reads on my face, but he leans in and kisses me. “I love you,” he murmurs.
I can barely swallow past the lump in my throat. “I love you, too,” I breathe.
But I don’t think I love you enough. At least not the way you deserve.
CHAPTER 61
SPENCER
SEVEN YEARS AGO
“Idon’t think she’s getting enough milk,” Harlow says the moment I see her after coming in from a photoshoot. “What if she’s starving to death and I don’t even know it?” She follows me around as I take my shoes off and head for the kitchen so I can warm a plate of leftovers.
“Babe, she just went to the doctor and she’s gaining weight so she’s definitely eating.”
“But how can we be sure?” she asks, parking her butt in one of the kitchen chairs.
I worked all day and then went straight to the photoshoot after. It’s late, her parents must already be in bed, and here she is pacing when she should be resting if the baby is sleeping. I’m worried about her, but I’m stretched thin with trying to save up as much money as I can. Hopefully we can get our own place in the next few months.
“The fact her weight is increasing is how we’re sure.” I’ve learned to be patient with her over this past month. Her anxiety has been through the roof. The first week we were home she was fine, but it’s like a switch got flipped and she’s been panicked ever since. There were many nights I couldn’t get her to sleep at all, because she was convinced if she closed her eyes the babywould stop breathing. Those are the days I’ve begged her mom to take over with Monroe and let Harlow rest.
“But they’re not weighing her every day,” she rattles on. “What if she was fine at her appointment but suddenly, she’s stopped eating?”
I know, I just fucking know I’m about to get chewed out for my question, but when I pop my plate in the microwave, I turn around to her and say, “Let’s switch to formula. That way you can track how many ounces she’s getting each meal.”
Her mouth pops open, eyes instantly feeling with tears. I feel like a dick, but it needed to be said again.
“You think I can’t feed our daughter? You think I’m starving her, don’t you?”
“Harlow.” I scrub a hand down my face. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“Well, it sure sounds like it,” she sasses.
I try not to let my frustration show. I’m not even feeling that way withher, but I’m tired and therefore more irritable than normal.
“I wantyouto be okay and clearly, you’re struggling. If formula would make it easier for you, that’s what I want, okay? Your mental health means everything to me.”
“But evidence shows breast milk is better for the baby and?—”
