Page 42 of Rebound
I’ve done this drive a few times since I got to Chennai. Unlike Bangalore, the highway eventually runs parallel to the Bay of Bengal and the view is to die for. Even with my helmet on, I can hear the waves crashing and the salty air clings to my exposed arms. It’s what I missed about living close to the water. That and the fact long drives help quiet the noise in my head.
An hour later—after stopping to pick up a helmet and gear for Tamara—I let myself into the flat. I start to call for her, but freeze when I see her sitting on the kitchen counter. She’s eating straight out of an ice cream tub, dressed in black leggings and another of my T-shirts. I set everything on the table and when I get closer, I notice her teary expression.
“What’s wrong?”
She sticks the spoon in her mouth, eyes shining. “I’m scared,” she mumbles around the utensil.
“Why?”
Tamara drops the spoon into the tub. “What if it’s bad news? What if our baby needs special care? What if I decide I don’t want them anymore?”
I shake my head and gently touch her knees. “Did you spend all day thinking about this?”
“I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a mother.”
It’s weird how the tables have turned, but I hate this for her. “You’re going to be the most incredible mom. You’ve got so much love to give, you take care of everyone and you’re one of the best people I know.”
She huffs. “You’re just saying that because you put your giant baby in me.”
I laugh and take the tub from her. “I truly believe this kid is the luckiest person in the world. Whatever happens tomorrow, we’ll handle it together, okay?”
“Even if I lose the baby?”
My heart clenches, but I nod. “Absolutely. We’ve got this, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she whispers and frowns when she looks at me properly. “Where did you go?”
“Needed to clear my head.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m nervous about tomorrow too. Didn’t want to stress you out with my anxiety, so I went for a ride.”
Her fingers wrap around my wrists. “And you let me add to your stress?”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m here for, to help lighten the load in any way I can.”
“Not by taking my anxiety and adding it to yours.”
“You didn’t add anything. Can I make you dinner instead of filling up on ice cream?”
“Can we go out?”
“Sure, let me put my things away.” I back away, but her legs wind around my thighs and hold me in place.
“Can we take your bike?”
I’m still processing her legs wrapped around me, but find the strength to say, “Been on a bike before?”
“No, but I trust you.”
And there goes my heart, leaping and dancing.
Fifteen. Keep my girl safe
Tamara
“Grab a jacket,” he says, following me down the hallway to our bedrooms.
