Page 99 of Accidental Groom
I type before I can tell myself not to.
Me:
I’m sorry I disappeared. I needed time to clear my head. I’m in Philadelphia, I’m okay, I just needed space. I’ll come home soon. I promise.
The response is immediate. I don’t even have time to set the phone down.
Harry:
I have five minutes before I have to go into a meeting. When are you coming home?
I stare at the screen. It’s not a,I’m glad you’re safe.Not,I’ve been worried.Just the question, cold and precise, like he’s expecting a countdown.
Me:
Soon. I’ll call Matthew in a bit.
Three dots appear. Then vanish. Then appear again.
Harry:
Do you have anything you want to tell me?
The blood drains from my face. My stomach flips and tumbles and lands somewhere in my throat. I stare at the words like maybe they’ll arrange themselves into something safer.
Does he know?
Ross and I have been going back and forth on how to tell him, whether I should call him from here and come clean, or wait until I’m back home. I told myself it wouldn’t matter if I waited just a little longer, that it would be better face-to-face, that a text would make it worse.
Me:
I’d rather talk about everything in person, when I get home.
Harry:
Tell me now.
The panic sets in fast and sharp. I can feel it behind my eyes, pushing against the back of my skull, radiating through my chest. I start typing again, then delete it. Try again. Delete.
He doesn’t wait for me to figure it out.
Harry:
I already know.
I drop the phone onto the sheets, a choked noise escaping my throat, my hands shaking.
Of course he knows. He would’ve looked into Ross the moment I left. He’s Harry. He doesn’t sit in uncertainty; he moves, he investigates, he takes charge.
The door to the guest room is cracked open slightly. I can hear Ross in the kitchen, banging around with a pan, probably making eggs or hash browns. He’s been trying to cook every morning like it’s his job to take care of me, and right now I’m too nauseous to shout for him.
The phone buzzes again.
Harry:
I’m giving you the chance to tell me the truth. Are you seriously not going to take it?
I press both my hands to my eyes. The baby kicks once, lightly, just enough to make it feel like someone’s knocking from the inside.
