7. Sloane #2
“Yes, I’m pregnant. And yes, my last pregnancy was difficult, so I may need help.
” I glance down at my hands, hating to admit that kind of weakness.
Yes, I’m a stubborn ass sometimes, but I won’t ever allow my pride to get in the way of the well-being of my child.
I want this baby so badly, and I won’t do anything to risk this pregnancy.
My hands tremble in my lap at the mere thought of things going wrong.
“So I’m moving in here to be with Lo. I need Lo. She’s here, so I’m here.”
Lo squeezes my forearm, making it difficult to maintain my tough-bitch facade. If I’m not careful, I’ll end up in tears.
Sully lowers his head and gives it a shake. Then he hefts the suitcase he carried up again and heads for his room. “You’re moving in with me ,” he says without looking back. “I’m helping you with this pregnancy because you’re carrying my child and you’re my wife .”
“I am not sleeping with you.” Annoyed again, I haul myself to my feet and follow him .
Not a single one of our friends follows. Not that I blame them. If I could, I’d run and hide too. Between my blood boiling and the steam coming from Sully’s ears it’s clear this fight could go nuclear.
He sets the suitcase by the door and motions to the queen-size bed pushed against one wall. “You can have the bed.”
I inhale a steadying breath but immediately regret it when I’m assaulted by a scent that is one hundred percent Sully.
Nostalgia washes over me, and memory after memory pummels me.
He still wears the cologne I bought him for our first anniversary.
For nearly twenty years, the familiar smell has grounded and comforted me.
Mask, Sloane. Put on your damn mask. You will not cry.
I swallow back the melancholy threatening to cause tears and pull my shoulders back.
“Obviously. You can sleep in the bunk with T.J.” I nod at the beds.
Both are made up, as if this was his plan all along.
I hate him for knowing that I’d force him into the bunk and not even attempting to argue about it.
For knowing I’d put a grown man—a six-foot-four man, with broad shoulders and, well, broad everything—in a bed designed for a child.
Just the thought of him on the top bunk, since T.J.’s afraid of heights, is ridiculous.
Sully steps aside, giving me a better view of the queen mattress and the oversized pregnancy pillow on top of it. “That’s the plan. I have your bed all set. If you need anything else?—”
I shake my head and press my lips together. I want to tell him to get rid of the damn pregnancy pillow. I hated the one I had seven years ago, and I hate this one just as much. But seven years ago I had my husband to cuddle with. My husband’s body was my pillow.
So I’ll keep the dreaded thing. It’s all I have now. I guess Sully knew that was the case. That or he’s so oblivious to my preferences that he never noticed how, night after night, I’d kick that pillow to the floor, then turn over and snuggle up to him.
“I’ll grab the rest of your things and then leave you to unpack.” His voice is quiet, the tone defeated, like maybe he doesn’t actually want that .
I wish I knew how to move on from this stalemate. How to navigate us into the kind of rational conversation he asked for.
But there’s nothing rational about divorcing the love of my life.
The person who broke me time and again while I waited, day after day, to see if the man I once adored would reappear.
Eventually, I stopped waiting. I stopped hoping.
This man in front of me is nothing but a mirage.
It’s too hard to stand so close physically, yet be so, so far away emotionally.
It’s easier to pick fights than it is to work through how we got here.
When he sighs like I’ve annoyed or exasperated him, just by existing, it’s easier to remind myself that he’s not my Sully anymore.
Finally, I find my voice, keeping my focus averted. “Sounds good.”
He disappears, and I slump down on the bed, giving myself a moment to fall apart. Not a single thing about this situation sounds good, but for T.J.’s sake and the sake of this new life we’ve created, I have to try.
“Lo,” I call.
I took my time unpacking in peace, leaving my toiletries for last. I wander past what can only be described as a locker room in search of a second bathroom, but all I find are three additional bedrooms. Makeup bag pressed to my chest, I shuffle back into the tiled room I used on that fateful night several weeks ago.
Slowly, I turn in a circle, surveying the space. This can’t actually be the only bathroom. God, I’m a terrible mother. How did I not investigate every inch of this apartment when I left T.J. here the first time?
The plastic curtain with pretty flowers on it looks new. No doubt because of Lo. I remember the curtain being very masculine. Navy blue, maybe?
There are seven of us now. And there’s only one shower? There’s no way we can all use it without coming up with a detailed schedule.
I stick my head out the door and call for my best friend again.
Lo rushes in, her eyes wide. “What? Did you see a mouse? I was sure Fuzzy would scare them all away.”
Mouse? Heart rate picking up, I back myself up against the wall and search the floor for rodents.
“Cal!” Lo shouts. “There’s a mouse.”
My brother-in-law charges in, wielding a broom and a mop like swords, nearly hitting the both of us. “Where is it?” he demands. “Lola, get on my back. I’ll protect you.”
My best friend jumps on her boyfriend’s back and clings to him like a baby monkey as he scours the floor.
“Where did you see it, Sloaney?” With the mop, Cal pokes at the trash can beside the toilet. “Point me in the right direction and then run. Save yourself.”
My momentary panic is quickly replaced by annoyance. This man is so damn dramatic. I step away from the wall and edge away from Cal’s weapons. “I didn’t say there were rodents.”
Lo, who’s got her legs wrapped around Cal’s waist while she clutches his shirt, squeaks. “There aren’t any mice? You’re sure?”
I inhale deeply. I can’t take her seriously when she looks like this. “No mice. Can you get down?”
With a quick kiss to Cal’s neck, she thanks him for rushing in, then slides down his body. It’s oddly endearing how adorable they are. Though it’s equally nauseating .
I blame it on the pregnancy hormones.
Cal props the broom and the mop up in the corner and holds up his hands.
“I was specifically warned not to enter the bathroom when you’re in here,” he whispers.
“So I’m going to back out slowly, and we’ll pretend you never saw me.
Okay?” He takes an exaggerated step back, then another, and at the threshold, he shoots me a wink, then spins and disappears.
Lo wears a dreamy smile as she gazes out into the hall. “So,” she finally says when she snaps back to the present. “Why were you screaming for me?”
“There aren’t really mice, right?” I ask at the same time.
With a roll of her eyes, she puts her hands on her hips. “You just told me there weren’t.”
“I literally just moved in. How would I know? What the hell is this place? And tell me this isn’t the only bathroom.”
Lo bites her bottom lip. “Yeah, it’s less than ideal.”
“Less than ideal?” I hiss, my blood pressure spiking in a way that probably isn’t good for a pregnant woman. “Warts are less than ideal. Mice, less than ideal. Hell, the commute to Jersey is less than fucking ideal. This, Lo”—I motion to the space around us—“This is ludicrous.”
She sighs, her shoulders lowering. “I don’t understand how Terry lived here, and I’m not sure I’ll ever figure out why he insisted that the guys move in.”
“Nothing about this makes sense. Why are we here?” I whine.
Yes, I’m being difficult, but I’m not sure how much more I can take.
“I have to share a room with my ex-husband. And my kid. And before you say that second part isn’t a problem, let me promise you, it really, really is.
I have a naked-sleeping problem, and the last thing I need is to scar my six-year-old by stripping down in our shared room in the middle of the night. ”
Lo scrunches her nose. “A naked-what now?”
“I—uh…” I grimace. “I tend to undress while I’m sleeping.” I peer out the open door to make sure we’re alone.
My secret should still be safe. I can’t imagine Sully mentioning this to his law partner or his brother. Hell, he probably doesn’t even remember. The man has barely spared me a glance in the last few years .
“Like you kick off your pants?” she asks. “That’s normal. We’ve all done it when we get overheated.”
“No, Lo.” I shake my head. “Like completely naked. Half the time I can’t find my clothes the next day.
I am apparently very neat when I sleep. I fold my pajamas like clean laundry and put them away.
One time, I found them in the fridge the next morning.
” I wave a hand. “The point is, I wake up naked, and I can’t be naked in a room with Sully and T.J. ”
Lo claps a hand to her mouth, but not before a snort escapes her. “Sorry.” She winces. “I know all of this is less than ideal, but can’t you put on a few more layers or something? It’s only a few months.”
“It’s nine months, Lo. Nine freaking months. Not to mention I’ll be hotter than normal because I’m freaking pregnant.”
She hums, her focus drifting up and to the side like she’s thinking. “What if?—”
I hold up a hand, cutting her off. It’s not up to her to come up with a solution. And it’s not fair of me to put the responsibility on her. Everything seems even more dire since I walked in here, but that isn’t her problem. “Forget it. You’re right. I’m just emotional. Extra layers make sense.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, frowning. “What if you and I share a room? Cal could bunk with Sully and T.J. If that’s what you need to feel comfortable here, he’d understand.”
My heart sinks. I’m being selfish, and here she is, willing to kick her boyfriend out of bed to accommodate me. “No. You and Cal are just starting out. You deserve this time. It’s special.”
Her green eyes brighten and her cheeks go pink. She’s so damn happy, and I’m happy for her. She deserves it. So does Cal. Just because Sully and I are miserable doesn’t mean everyone else should be.
I pad over to the sink and unzip my toiletry bag. “I’m going to take a shower and get ready for bed.”
“It’s six.” Lo holds up her phone like I might not believe her .
I nod. Yeah, it’s early, but I’m ready for this day to end. Tomorrow will be better. It has to be.