Chapter 37 #2
The more I’ve thought about Anderson, the more I see him as a supportive partner. The way he so easily agreed to help me, the way he is with Georgie, the way he makes me forget what life was like before him.
His patience, his thoughtfulness, his kindness.
It feels too good to be true, like I’m holding still just before the inevitable crash.
I exist in a world of uncertainty, constantly trying to make sense of it.
But it’s like part of me knows that our time together is limited, and I want to enjoy all the moments I can with him, not lose myself in my mind during the borrowed time we do have.
He’s becoming a piece of me I wish I didn’t need.
And if this is all supposed to be fake. Temporary. Pretend.
Why is it that he’s becoming the clarity to my insanity?
Anderson gives me a nod, and I notice the way he closes his fists, like he wants to reach for me but stops himself. He lingers for a moment, his eyes skating to Emerson and Rumi, who I feel are watching us intently, not even pretending not to.
Ever since our kiss in the hotel room, falling asleep together, opening up to him about my OCD, finding out I’m pregnant with his baby, we haven’t so much as accidentally brushed our hands when passing each other in the small space of the bathroom we share.
So I think it catches us both off guard when I find myself reaching for his arm, pulling him to me. It doesn’t take much; he follows me effortlessly, his easy smile widening to a grin as he waits for my next move.
“Are you sure you’re not just trying to sneak some orange slices?” I ask as I snake my hand down his arm until our fingers interlock.
He squeezes my hand in his, and it’s like he has it wrapped around my throat with the way I lose my breath.
He must take this as an invitation because he leans in, pressing a light kiss on my forehead before giving my hand one more squeeze.
“Georgie and I snuck a few when we cut them up this morning.” He gives my hand one more squeeze before letting go and nodding at Jack to follow him toward the small huddle of girls surrounding the cooler I saw Anderson carrying before the game.
“Is 'orange slices' code for something?” Rumi asks just as Evee wiggles in her arms, her way of asking to be put down.
“You throwing my words back at me?” I ask Rumi as she sets Evee down, the three of us slowly following as she toddles through the grass, bending down in her navy sweatsuit that matches the one Rumi is wearing to pick at the strands.
“I do recall someone asking me a similar question when I told her about my first date with Jack,” Rumi teases.
“Finally,” I say, holding my hands up. “It only took you barely less than a year to admit that night was a date.”
“Hey, we’re not talking about me,” Rumi playfully scolds. “We’re talking about you.” She points a finger in my direction,
“Yeah,” Emerson chimes in, bending down toward her niece to help her pluck a dandelion. “Are we going to talk about how the two of you just dirty talked in front of Evee?” She dramatically gasps, causing Evee to giggle. “Scandalous.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I answer, waving my hand, thankful that my cheeks don’t blush like Anderson’s.
“Ridiculous?” Emerson echoes, standing up as Evee continues toddling through the grass with us in tow. “You’re the one who looked at him with your bedroom eyes when he mentioned him and Georgie cutting the damn oranges.”
“Don’t act like you know anything about my bedroom eyes,” I quip, but my attempt to push this conversation in a different direction fails miserably.
“Who knew Ava Dolores Williams could be so domesticated?” Rumi teases, bumping her shoulder into mine as we walk.
“First, you comment on my bedroom eyes.” I point at Emerson as she looks toward me over her shoulder from where she walks a few steps in front of us.
“And then you,” I point to Rumi. “Throw my middle name at me.” I shake my head.
“All before ten in the morning?” The three of us watch as Evee bends down to grab another dandelion.
“And, it’s ‘Montgomery’ now,” I add, a smirk I don’t even bother fighting spreading across my face.
“The surprises just keep coming with you, Av.” Rumi turns to me, keeping Evee in her peripheral vision as she continues toddling on. “In a good way,” she adds.
“She’s right,” Emerson adds. “Seeing you and Anderson in your 'mommy and daddy' mode is still new to us,” she explains, and my hands instinctively move toward my stomach. I quickly shove them into the pocket of my hoodie before Rumi or Emerson can notice.
“In a good way,” Rumi adds. Again.
“Yes, it’s good. She gets it.” Emerson rolls her eyes, but there’s a smirk on her lips.
My mind goes to the secret I’m holding so close to my chest, barely believing it myself. It would be so easy to tell my best friends about the pregnancy, get some of the weight off my shoulders.
My lips part to say something, but I’m cut off by the blowing of a whistle, signaling the start of the second half of Georgie’s game.
The three of us turn and head back toward the field, just in time to see Anderson lean down to press his forehead to Georgie’s, his lips moving as she nods, listening to his every word. He holds his fist between them for her to bump hers against.
Guilt washes over me, intense and all-consuming.
I knew this would be temporary, but Georgie didn’t.
And for her sake—for this baby’s sake…
For my own sake…
I think it’s time to admit this was never something that was meant to be temporary.