Chapter 15
15
Jade
T he sound of heavy machinery wakes me. It’s loud, mechanical, and completely out of place in the quiet stillness I’ve gotten used to over the last forty-eight hours. For a moment, I lie there in confusion, my mind groggy as I try to make sense of what I’m hearing. The bed next to me is cold, the sheets tangled and empty, and that’s when it clicks. Declan.
I sit up quickly, pulling the blankets around me as I glance toward the door. He’s not here. I can hear faint voices outside, muffled by the walls, and the low rumble of what sounds like an engine. My pulse picks up, but not from worry. It’s something else; a nervous anticipation I can’t quite explain.
I throw on some sweats and shuffle into the living room, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Declan is standing by the window, the shutters now unlatched, his broad shoulders tense as he watches whatever’s happening outside. He’s already dressed, though he’s still favoring his injured ankle, leaning slightly on the arm of the couch for support.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice rough from sleep.
He glances over his shoulder, a faint smile tugging at his lips when he sees me.
“Morning,” he calls to me.
“Morning,” I say, stepping closer. “What’s all the noise?”
“Tree crew,” he says simply, nodding toward the window. “I called them this morning when I realized I had service.”
I move to the window beside him, peering out into the bright, snow-covered morning. Sure enough, there’s a crew of men in orange vests outside, chainsaws in hand, cutting apart the massive tree that fell on his truck Another man is hooking Declan’s truck up to some kind of hitch, while another uses a plow to start clearing the driveway.
“You called them?” I ask, still trying to process it all.
He nods, straightening slightly. “I turned my phone back on when I woke up,” he explains nonchalantly. “The service was spotty, but it held long enough to make the call. I figured someone ought to come dig us out now that the storm is over.”
“You’ve been busy,” I murmur, glancing back at the scene outside, a strange mix of relief and disappointment settling in my chest. “I didn’t think anyone would be able to get out here so soon.”
“We were lucky,” he says, his tone casual, but I can see the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flick toward his truck. “When I told them about the tree, they bumped us up the priority list. They’re just clearing the driveway now. It shouldn’t take too much longer.”
“Does that mean you’re leaving?” I ask before I can stop myself. The words hang between us, heavier than I meant them to be.
Declan turns to look at me, his green eyes steady. “Yeah,” he answers carefully, a little guarded. “They’re giving me a ride back to my cabin once they’re done here. I need to check on it, make sure it’s still standing after all this.” He pauses, his gaze dropping briefly to his ankle. “And I should probably get this looked at. A doctor would probably be a good idea, don’t you think?”
I nod, my chest tightening. It’s the right thing to do, of course. He can’t stay here forever, and neither can I. But the thought of him leaving, of this strange little bubble we’ve been in for the past two days bursting, makes my stomach twist.
“Right,” I say, forcing a smile. “That makes perfect sense.”
He watches me for a moment, his expression unreadable, then steps closer, his hand brushing against my arm. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice low and steady. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say quickly, but the look in his eyes tells me he doesn’t buy it. “It’s just a lot of information to process so early in the morning.”
He nods in understanding, pulling me into a quick embrace.
I take a deep breath, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “I just… I need to know if this, if you, are real. Before you drive off into the sunset, or whatever, I’d just like to know,” I say quickly, not even taking a breath. “If you’re going to call me, or if this is just one of those things that doesn’t survive the real world. No pressure, or anything, it would just be nice to know before you leave.”
His hands come up to my shoulders, grounding me, and he leans in slightly, his gaze locking onto mine. “Jade,” he says, his voice firm but gentle. “I’ll call you. I promise.”
I want to believe his words, but the doubt lingers, clawing at the edges of my mind. I want to trust him, but trust isn’t something that comes easily for me anymore. Until I actually hear from him, there will just be a knot in my stomach, wondering if this was just an extended one-night stand.
As if he can read my mind, he leans down, brushing a kiss against my forehead, then pulls back with a small, almost sad smile. “I’ll call you,” he says again, his hands squeezing my shoulders lightly before he lets go. “I promise.”
I watch as he limps toward the door, duffel bag in hand, his movements slow but determined. The crew outside greets him with nods and handshakes, and I stand there, frozen, as they help him into the passenger seat of one of the trucks. The engine roars to life, and before I know it, they’re driving away, Declan’s truck in tow.
The cabin feels impossibly quiet after that, the small space suddenly feeling empty and hollow. I tell myself it’s fine, that it’s only a matter of time before I hear from him again. But as I sink onto the couch, I can’t help but wonder how long the silence will last.
He texts me that night to let me know his cabin thankfully survived the storm with no damage. I tell him the power finally came back, and I make a nice meal and watch TV to pass the time.
The next day, I’m back in the hardware store trying not to lose my mind over him. This is where it all started, after all. It’s a slow trickle of customers, some people buying supplies to help with minor repairs after the storm.
I hear from him a couple of times throughout the day. Texts here and there, nothing too detailed. He says the storm damaged the wires near his cabin, and his service is spotty at best. I try to believe him, to rationalize that he’s not responding to all of my texts because of the spotty service. Not because he’s decided in the cold light of day that he doesn’t actually want to see me again.
We’d talked about going on a date this week, a simple hike on one of the many trails between our cabins, but he texts the next day to postpone. His ankle is in a boot now, and he says he’s not exactly in prime hiking condition. I get it. I really do. But it’s hard not to feel a little disappointed.
I don’t tell Tawny about what happened and simply tell Ron that Declan delivered the wood and I made it through the storm just fine. I’m good at keeping secrets, and this is a secret I want to keep just between Declan and me. Even so, as the days stretch out, it becomes harder and harder to believe any of it was real.
Another week passes. Then another. A few minor storms come through, nothing nearly as bad as what we experienced, but enough to delay our plans even further. There’s always something conspiring to keep us apart. Every time we try to set a date, something comes up. If it’s not his injury, it’s the weather, or the lack of service. I keep telling myself it’s just bad timing, that it doesn’t mean he’s lost interest. After all, if he did lose interest, wouldn’t he just ghost me?
I start to unpack and try and settle into this little home I’ve made and create new memories apart from those two magical days. I bring home a can of paint from the hardware store and paint the bookshelf. I donate all the board games to a local charity, though I keep the cards. I want desperately to make this place one of happy memories, just in case we eventually decide to stop playing phone tag and call it quits.
Finally, after nearly a month, we make plans for me to go to his cabin for dinner and the thought of seeing him again, of spending time together without the chaos of a storm hanging over us, makes my chest feel lighter for the first time in weeks.
But as the date approaches, something else starts to weigh on me.
I’ve been so focused on Declan, on figuring out where we stand, that I didn’t even notice at first. But now, it’s impossible to ignore. I’m late. More than a week late. Naturally, it’ll probably start on the night of our date. That’s going to be a disaster. Not that I’m presuming that we’re going to jump back in the sack, but it would definitely put a damper on things if that is where we end up.
The day before our date, though, I wake up feeling sick. My stomach churns, and for a moment, I think it’s just nerves. But then the thought hits me like a freight train, and before I know it, I’m rummaging through the bathroom cabinet, pulling out the pregnancy test Tawny gave me as a gag gift a few months ago.
My hands shake as I open the box, the weight of what I’m about to do settling over me like a heavy fog. The whole idea of this is so unbelievably absurd. It’s all got to be coincidence. It’s probably just stress and nervousness about seeing him again. Maybe something I ate yesterday was bad.
But even I know there are only so many excuses I can make before I face the truth. I pee on the stick, praying to a God I don’t even believe in anymore that the test will be negative. The next few minutes feel like an eternity. I can’t bring myself to look at it, my mind racing with a thousand different scenarios. What if it’s positive? What if it’s not? What if this changes everything?
Finally, I force myself to look. The little plus sign staring back at me feels like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of my lungs. I sit down hard on the edge of the bathtub, the test clutched in my hand, and for a moment, all I can do is stare at it, my mind blank. This was not in the plan.
When the shock starts to wear off, the first thing I do is reach for my phone. My fingers are shaking so badly it takes me three tries to unlock it, and I scroll through my contacts until I find the one name I know I can call right now.
Tawny picks up on the second ring. “Hey, girlie!” she answers brightly. “What’s up?”
Her voice is bright and chipper, as she’s completely unaware of the chaos swirling in my head. I open my mouth to respond, but the words catch in my throat, and all that comes out is a shaky breath.
“Jade?” Tawny’s voice sharpens with concern. “Are you okay?”
“I…” My voice cracks, and I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Tawny, I think I’m pregnant.”
The words hang there for a moment, heavy and unfamiliar, and I can hear her gasp on the other end of the line.
“Oh, honey,” she says softly. “Okay. Okay. I’m coming over. Just sit tight, all right?”
I nod, even though she can’t see me, and the line goes dead. The cabin feels impossibly quiet again, and I’m starting to wonder if I’m the unluckiest person on the entire planet.