Page 72 of The Girlfriend Game
Thirty-Four
Kendall
I stay in bed for the next two days, understandably sick to my stomach over the unintended consequences that resulted from serving that awful breakup call to Zeke.
My emotions are a frayed string coming loose at the end and unraveling apart as I worry over how Zeke will handle our split. I know it shouldn’t, but the guilt eats away at me for causing him distress, especially when I know how very fragile his mental state is right now.
I’m very aware that I could have easily undone all the progress he’s made with my hit-and-run breakup call.
My stomach roils with nausea as I slowly climb out of bed, noticing the time on the clock is 10:30 a.m. I’m scheduled to meet up for lunch with Logan today, as Carver and Zeke are in Utah for their first away game of the regular season.
Logan was very concerned when she called me yesterday to check in. “Honey, are you okay? Carver told me you and Zeke broke up. I know he’s taking it really hard and I want you to know I’m here for you if you need to talk.”
Her kindness practically broke me, but I agreed to meet for lunch to talk. My only dilemma is how much I should divulge about my situation with Zeke. She may be in the medical profession, but our conversation isn’t covered under doctor/patient confidentiality. It’s just a heart-to-heart between two women who love two ballplayers.
I take it slow and easy in getting ready, not feeling any morning sickness, per se, just a little tired and queasy. That could be from my internalized stress, not necessarily my pregnancy.
We chose a restaurant down by the water and when I walk in, Logan is already sitting on a bench in the lobby, looking beautifully relaxed and gloriously pregnant.
“Look at you!” I say with a hug as she stands to greet me. “You literally popped overnight.”
I take a step back, extending my arms and admiringly examine her growing belly.
“I know,” she laughs. “I literally look like I swallowed a basketball.”
I join in her laughter over her description of her rotund belly hidden under her dress as the hostess seats us in the open-air dining room.
After we provide our drink orders to the server, Logan doesn’t waste any time in jumping in on the burning question on her mind.
“So, can you tell me what happened? You two seemed so great together at Marek’s party. Zeke is so in love with you.” She frowns and I see the sad, forlorn look in her gaze.
I suck back a small gasp, but it does little to hold back the tears as they gush out like a dam just broke open. And maybe it has.
“Oh, my God, I’m a mess,” I sniff, grabbing the napkin on the table and wiping under my eyes that are sure to be all puffy. “I don’t want to dump this on you. Not in your condition.”
I gesture with a wave of my hand toward her bump as she smiles and flits her hand back at me.
“Oh, please. This is the most exciting thing I’ve done all week outside of picking out furniture and paint colors for the baby’s room. And read all the things on my pending motherhood.”
She leans over as far as her belly allows and reaches for my hand, enfolding it in hers. “Kendall, I know you take on the weight of the world in your profession and I admire that so much. But sometimes, you need someone else’s shoulder to cry on too. I don’t know about you, but I felt an immediate bond with you when we met. So, while I can’t partake in any delicious wine with you, I’m all ears. Just don’t get in my way of the bread. This momma craves bread like a fiend.”
I laugh at her antics, pushing the breadbasket the waiter just set down toward her.
I signal my surrender of all things bread with my hands in the air. “Here, have at it.”
Logan daintily butters her roll and takes a bite the size of Texas while I figure out where to start. She’s not wrong in the way she feels about our bond. I don’t know if it’s the hormonal changes our bodies are each going through that connects us through biology, but it’s there. And I know I can trust her with my secret.
Pushing the empty wine glass away from my place setting, I lock eyes with her, looking for any sign of warning that I should keep this secret to myself.
Finding none, I let it spill.
“This can’t go anywhere else, Logan. You promise me?”
She squints. “Um, okay. Of course.”
“You’re not the only one at this table who can’t drink wine today. Or for the next nine months.”
Her face transforms from a look of confusion to shock, and finally landing on excitement. But just as quickly, her bright blue eyes dim as they flash understanding.
