Page 102 of Pinch
“It’s a tattoo?” My brow furrows, and I rise onto my elbow to look at it closer.
“It’s an old Japanese fable…”
“Another one?” Our eyes meet, and my nose wrinkles.
“My mom went through a real Buddhist phase after she lost her first husband. She said it helped her make peace with the grief… until she had me.”
“I get that.” My lips tilt down with a sad little frown. “What does it mean?”
“There’s a legend that when people are destined to be together, they’re connected by an invisible red string. It’s mostly for husbands and wives, but Mom said it could be for family as well. No matter how far apart we are or how much time passes or things change, the thread can tangle, but it will never break.”
“You’re always connected.” My eyes warm, and I trace myfinger over the bright red line that almost looks faded into his skin, almost like it could be invisible, but we’ve somehow managed to summon it.
“Forever.” His voice is quiet.
I blink up again to meet his beautiful eyes. He looks at me with so much depth of emotion. I reach out to place my palm against his cheek, then I stretch higher to seal my lips to his.
Walking to the lab,I’m still thinking about the red string, imagining a thread stretching all the way from here, walking across campus to the arena, all the way downtown. I picture it thin as spider silk, twisting and straining, yet strong as steel.
My chest warms. A cool, early spring breeze pushes my hair behind my shoulders, and I look up at the sunlight filtering through the leaves on the trees. The soft wind rustles them, mixing up the way the light reflects on the pavement, on my face and hands.Komorebi…
It’s so interesting how his mother was obsessed with Japanese culture, and I’m doing all this work with the Kawasaki Institute. It feels like fate somehow, and I drift into the large lab, with a hand on my midsection as I ponder the possibilities.
I’m still wearing oversized sweaters, only now I couple them with stretch-front pregnancy leggings. I still think I’m getting away with hiding it pretty well.
I’ve just arrived at my station when I hear Timothy exhale a disgusted noise. “Looks like lover-boy got himself in trouble.”
He has an almost gloating grin on his face, and my brow lowers. “What are you talking about?”
He waves his iPad, and I go to where he’s leaning against the counter, studying the screen.
“I told you not to trust this guy. What’s the line? Players gonna play?” I don’t like the sneering tone in his voice as he turns the device to face me. “It’s probably one of those hockey groupies…bunnies.”
Heat is in my throat, and I see he’s reading the TMI story Mav showed us. I don’t like him taunting me with gossip reports, and I’m really pissed he’d immediately assume Gavin cheated on me.
“It doesn’t have to be bad.” My tone is sharp. “What if he were there to see a friend or a relative?”
“With the schedule those guys keep, he doesn’t have time to go all the way to a sketchy birthing center in Pasadena for afriend. It’s his.”
“It is not a sketchy birthing center.” My voice turns defensive. “And maybe it’s somebody he really cares about.”
Timothy blinks at me, and I swallow a soft gulp. Cool air is on my neck, like all the blood is draining to my toes. I can’t keep secrets. I’m a terrible liar, and I realize what I just did.
It’s too late to take it back, and if I say another word, it’ll all be over.
My lab mate’s eyes narrow, and I know he’s reading it all over my face. Blinking down at the iPad in my hands, I try to change my expression, neutral face, no secrets spilled here.
It doesn’t work.
“It’s you.” Timothy’s tone is flat. “You’re the chick who’s having his baby.”
28
Gavin
“This is a really nice place.” I walk through the massive concrete Frank Lloyd Wright-style home built into the hills. “How long have you had it?”
“Bought it right before Haddy was born, I guess.”
