18. Am I really Considering This?
eighteen
Am I really Considering This?
Leah
I pull into Dylan’s driveway, dreading the talk we are about to have. What are the chances that I would run into him at the doctor?
My plan was to use the time I was tattooing to figure out what I was going to say when I saw him. But my client was super chatty and kept my mind occupied.
So, I’m still clueless.
After a couple of deep breaths, I step out of my car and head up the path. The front door swings open, and Dylan stands there smiling. I have to admit that he looks good. His t-shirt and jeans fit him just right, and it’s even better knowing what’s underneath.
Stop it, Leah. That’s what got you into this mess in the first place.
When I’m inside, he asks, “Do you want something to drink?”
“Sure. You got whiskey?” I joke. “Just some water is fine. ”
He grabs a bottle out of the refrigerator, and we make our way to the living room. Each of us takes a seat on either side of the couch.
I have no idea where to start. Thankfully, Dylan kicks things off.
“How are you doing?” he asks. “I don’t think I asked you that earlier.”
“Uhm, I’m okay, I guess.”
“You sure? Because I’m not really okay, so I can only imagine how you are.”
I consider just pretending I’m fine, but it suddenly occurs to me that Dylan is the only other person who I can talk to about this right now. Nobody else knows yet, and even when I’m ready to let the cat out of the bag, it’s not like I’ll have a lot of people to talk to. Dylan will be one of the only ones.
Water bottle still in hand, I get up off the couch and start doing laps around the coffee table.
“How am I? Well, let’s see…I have a job that doesn’t always have guaranteed income. Just taking care of myself is problematic. I managed to get a new apartment, but it’s scary. Scary as in I’m pretty sure someone died there, Dylan.”
Before he can say anything, I keep going. “And do you think I know the first thing about babies? Absolutely not. I don’t even think I’ve ever held a baby. All I know is that they drink milk…and poop a lot. And cry. Do you know how easily I get overstimulated? I’ll end up yelling at the baby! Dylan, our child will probably be terrified when it looks at me. My tattoos and overall demeanor will frighten it! I am unpleasant!”
I’m not sure how I went from zero to a hundred this quickly, but words are just falling out of my mouth at this point.
Dylan jumps off the couch and comes over to me. He sets his hands on my shoulders as he starts to talk.
“Okay, Leah, I need you to calm down. Come here.”
He leads me back to the couch.
“I wasn’t done ranting,” I tell him.
“You can get back to it in a minute,” he promises. As we sit down, he says, “First of all, I know you told me I didn’t have to be involved.” He points to my belly. “But that kid in there is half mine. There’s no way I can walk away.”
“Of course, not. You’re a boy scout,” I joke.
He rolls his eyes and smiles. “Maybe. But my point is that I’m here to go through all of this with you.”
“As nice as that is, Dylan, I’m the one who has to carry the child…and birth it.” I let out an involuntary shiver.
“Totally true. But I will do whatever I can to help. Let’s start with your living situation.”
I don’t say anything but instead, take a swig of water while waiting for him to continue.
“Why don’t you move in here?”
That makes me choke on the drink I just took. When I finish coughing, I say, “Come again?”
“Okay, before you freak, hear me out. I have extra bedrooms and tons of space. You wouldn’t have to live somewhere that you’re convinced that someone died. Plus, you think I’m a boy scout, so I’m not going to murder you or anything.”
He makes a fair point. I can’t say the same for neighbors at my apartment .
But moving in together seems insane, right?
“Dylan, that offer is so nice, but just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean that I’m ready to jump head-first into a relationship. I’m still a complete disaster—probably more so now.”
“Leah, you’re misunderstanding me. This isn’t some desperate attempt to get you back into my bed. This whole thing is bigger than you and I. There’s another person involved now. I’m not saying you move in, and we suddenly become a couple. You can have your own room—your own space. And when the baby comes, we can turn the other bedroom into a nursery.”
“You don’t think that would be a little weird?”
“Maybe.” He smiles. “But I think we’d make it work. I think it makes more sense in the grand scheme of things.”
I think for a minute. “How much would I pay in rent?”
“Nothing.”
I shake my head. “Nope. I don’t want anything for free.”
“While I appreciate the sentiment, hear me out. Doesn’t it make more sense to pay one mortgage and utilities rather than rent and two sets? We could put all that extra money toward the baby.”
“Dylan, I can’t live here without paying for anything.”
I can’t believe I’m considering this. A few days ago, I was convincing myself to stay away from Dylan because I needed to get my shit together. Now, moving in with him seems like it may be the best option for getting my shit together. It’s not just about me anymore. And the thought of bringing a baby into that apartment terrifies me.
The idea of living with Dylan isn’t nearly that scary .
I say, “How about we split everything right down the middle? The mortgage, shared utilities, and anything for the baby. It will be 50-50.”
He thinks for a moment. “Hmm. I’d be okay with splitting everything…except for the mortgage.”
“Why?”
“Because sure the other bills may go up with you here, the mortgage stays the same no matter what. I’ll keep handling that. Everything else we can split.”
It’s not a bad offer. It would help me save so that one day, the baby and I can get a place of our own—a place that isn’t a shithole.
But there’s something I need to know first.
“Dylan, why are you doing this? I mean, besides the fact that you’re just so good?”
His rich brown eyes look into mine. Usually, people looking me in the eye makes me uncomfortable, but with Dylan, I can’t seem to look away.
“Because that’s my kid in there. I want to be a part of everything that involves that baby. That becomes a lot easier when you and I are under the same roof.” He smiles. “And you’re not terrible to spend some time with.”
I may not be entirely thrilled to be pregnant, but at least it’s with a decent guy instead of some asshole who would run in the opposite direction. I’m pretty sure that’s how every other guy I’ve ever dated would’ve reacted.
Despite the fact that moving in with a man I barely know scares me, something about Dylan puts me at ease .
Pretty sure that could be in the opening scene of most true crime documentaries.
But if this does by some miracle work out, it would be nice to have someone else in my corner. It sucks feeling like I’m all alone.
“Okay,” I tell him. “Let’s give it a shot.”
The smile that spreads across his lips is enough to make me melt a little.
“When do you want to move in?” He asks.
“Well, I don’t have any appointments tomorrow, so I guess that would probably work best for me. Is that too soon?”
“No, not at all. I can take the day off.”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t want to disrupt your life.”
“Leah, I hate to break it to you, but a baby is going to disrupt both of our lives. It’s no big deal. I’ll just switch shifts with one of the other guys.”
“Alright,” I say, unsure of how else I should respond.
“Do I need to bring my truck over to help you grab your stuff?”
“Uh, probably not necessary. I don’t have any furniture or anything. I can fit all my shit into my car.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. It’s really just some clothes and toiletries.”
“Okay, well, I’m here to help if you change your mind.”
I nod, knowing damn good and well that I suck at asking for help. “Good to know.”
The silence between us is filled with Dylan’s stomach making a loud growling sound .
“Man, I guess I need to eat something.” He laughs. “You hungry?”
“No, I’m okay.”
He stands up and heads toward the kitchen. “What’d you have for dinner?”
“Nothing. I haven’t eaten anything all day.”
He stops and backs up toward me. Turning around, he asks, “You haven’t eaten anything today?”
I shake my head. “My stomach has been in knots.”
He comes over and kneels in front of me. “While I can appreciate that, you need to eat. The baby needs you to eat.”
While food doesn’t sound great, I know Dylan is right. Not eating for close to twenty-four hours probably isn’t the smartest move.
“Okay, fine. I could eat.”
With another gorgeous smile, he stands and walks to the kitchen once again. Opening a drawer, he pulls out a stack of take-out menus.
He hands them to me and says, “Pick your poison.”
Looking through them, I settle on a Chinese restaurant. It still isn’t making my mouth water, but it’s the best option of the bunch.
“What do you want?” He asks when I tell him my decision.
“Just some orange chicken.”
Pulling out his phone, he calls to place the order. Meanwhile, I look around the living room, and I notice how extremely clean everything is. This will, by far, be the neatest place I’ve lived. Amy’s wasn’t messy, but it was small and cluttered .
I haven’t been somewhere this clean since I was still living at home—although that place seemed more like a prison than a home. I left when I was seventeen and never went back. Hopefully, living here won’t be anything similar to that awful experience.
When Dylan joins me back on the couch, he asks, “What are you so deep in thought about?”
“Besides the existential dread of having a baby?” I give him a small smile. “Just admiring how very clean your place is.”
“To be fair, I haven’t lived here very long. Give it time. I’m sure I’ll eventually mess it up.”
“I doubt it. Boy Scouts are notoriously neat I hear.”
He rolls his eyes but still grins. “Yeah, yeah.” Holding out his hand for mine, he adds, “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
I’m about to tell him I’ve seen it before, but I realize the only parts I’ve seen are his bedroom and one of the bathrooms. I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet.
He leads me down the hall. His room is on the left, and there are two doors on the right. The first one he opens doesn’t have anything except for a few boxes.
“We could use this as a nursery,” he says.
I look around trying to picture it with a crib and such. I can’t believe that I went from partying to deciding what a nursery should look like.
Next, he walks to the door toward the end of the hall. As we walk through, I see it’s a guest room, complete with a large, plush bed. That will be a nice change of pace from crashing out on a couch every single night .
He says, “Just let me know if you need anything for the room, and I can grab it.”
Why is he always so nice?
“I should be good,” I tell him. “I don’t need much.”
Under normal circumstances, I would be fine with just sharing a room with the guy I’m sleeping with anyway. When I’ve moved in with boyfriends in the past, we always shared a bed.
This time feels remarkably different.
This time, we are staying together for the sake of our unborn child. It’s not a romantic situation. As wonderful as our sex was, I need a space that I can call my own—somewhere I can go to freak out in peace.
Pulling me from my thoughts, he says, “There’s a bathroom off of the master, so the one in the hallway is all yours.”
“Okay, sounds good.”
“Leah, are you okay? I mean, aside from the obvious.”
“I’m just…overwhelmed, I think. A lot of things have changed in the past couple days. I just—” My voice cracks with unexpected emotion.
I tell myself I’m not going to cry, but that all changes when Dylan pulls me close and wraps me in a big hug. The dam breaks, and the tears begin to flow.
While he holds me, he doesn’t try to get me to stop. He doesn’t try to give me some bullshit pep-talk about how everything will be okay.
There’s only one thing he says.
“I’ve got you.”
Somehow, those three little words are the most comforting things he can say to me right now.
I just hope it’s true.