Chapter Eleven
Zadie
According to the obstetrician Chantel had referred me to, I was eight weeks pregnant. Eight weeks. Even though I’d only known for two of them.
Apparently, they started counting from before you got pregnant. Super confusing, if you asked me.
But I wasn’t a doctor, and since I hadn’t been spending much time with my best friend who was, there hadn’t been a chance to ask these types of questions.
Today we were going shopping, even though all I really wanted to do was eat. When I wasn’t busy throwing up, I was ravenous.
I’d been told this was normal and that the sickness should die down in the next couple of weeks. Although, this information came from my mother, and I didn’t exactly consider her the most reliable source for any kind of parenting advice.
Not even pre-parenting advice.
I found Chantel in the kitchen, still in her nightgown, scrolling through her phone like we didn’t have somewhere to be.
“Hey, is it time to go already?” She didn’t look up.
“Yeah. You’re not ready.”
“It’ll only take me a minute.” She pressed her phone flat against her chest as I got closer and disappeared upstairs.
What was going on with her? She’d been flaking on me more and more. Going quiet every time I tried to have a real conversation. Forgetting to drive me to campus. Not mentioning that her cousin was moving into the spare room across from mine.
A man moving into the house shouldn’t have been a big deal. It was her house, he was her cousin, and she had every right to let whoever she wanted live here.
Except Caleb wasn’t just any man.
He was seven years younger, ridiculously attractive, and I’d already crossed a line with him I couldn’t uncross. From the moment he’d kissed me—okay fine, from the moment I’d drunkenly kissed him—he’d been living rent-free in my head.
And Chantel knew it.
“Okay, ready.” She reappeared wearing blue jeans and a light knit sweater.
I stared. Chantel did not wear jeans. When she wasn’t in scrubs, she gravitated toward dresses and skirts. Occasionally a fancy pair of pants, but I had literally never seen her in denim. I didn’t even know she owned a pair.
“You’re going like that?”
“I thought maybe we’d skip the shopping.” She tugged at her waistband like she wasn’t sure the jeans fit. “You don’t really need maternity stuff yet, do you?”
“Chantel.” I darted a look around the room, even though I knew we were alone. The walls in this house weren’t thick enough for the secret I was keeping.
“Relax, he left an hour ago.” She rolled her eyes. “I was thinking we could go for a walk instead. The weather’s still nice, and I’m not getting nearly enough exercise.”
I agreed, still on edge. But the moment we stepped outside, the coil in my stomach started to unwind.
The October sun was warm on my skin, and the trees lining the street blazed with reds, oranges, and golds so vivid the whole town looked like it was burning. It was the kind of day that made it hard to remember why I’d been so wound up.
“Wow.” I tilted my face toward the sky and breathed. “What a gorgeous day.”
“See? Genius.” She tapped her temple.
The tension in my shoulders finally loosened as we walked toward the park. The smell of something fried drifted on the breeze, and my stomach took notice. “I need that food truck. Now.”
Chantel agreed without a single objection, which should have been a red flag. Her usual stance on mobile food vendors involved hygiene violations, bacterial growth rates, and rapid-fire French I could never fully follow but that left no room for misinterpretation.
I ignored the warning bells and inhaled a soft pretzel the size of my face, making a silent promise to the bean growing inside me that I’d start eating better tomorrow.
The walk through the park was light and easy. Kids chased each other across the grass, a couple shared a bench with a dog wedged between them, and the sun filtered through the brilliant canopy overhead. It was the perfect afternoon for relaxing and pretending the hard stuff didn’t exist.
Until we reached the skate ramps.
I saw him before Chantel grabbed my arm, slowing us to a stop. He was impossible to miss.
His lean muscles rippled under a T-shirt that had no business fitting so well.
His jaw was set with concentration, and his dark hair was wild around his face.
Caleb moved on his skateboard like it was part of his body, flying down a ramp at breakneck speed, flipping the board under his feet at the top, then sailing back down the other side.
Each trick looked effortless. Each push, powerful. Each landing, precise.
He was magnificent.
I wasn’t the only one who thought so, either. Kids of various ages had gathered around, forming a tiny fan club. Some stood motionless, watching. Others jumped around trying to copy him. Even the teenagers shook their heads in amazement when he landed something that looked physically impossible.
The younger kids clapped.
So did I. Maybe a little too enthusiastically, since most of them looked my way.
When Caleb’s eyes found mine, he broke into a grin that hit me like a blast of heat and hormones. With one final kick, he sent the board into the air, spinning both it and his body in a sweeping arc before landing on top of the ramp and catching the board in his hand.
A few kids crowded around him, begging for tips. He dropped to a crouch, skateboard balanced across his knee, and told them, “Practice. Every single day. And don’t give up.” He bumped fists with the teenagers before jogging over to us.
“You’re a show-off,” Chantel declared. “I thought you’d given that up.”
For a moment, his whole demeanor shifted. Something dark crossed his expression, almost like pain. “Yeah, well, it’s not as easy as it used to be. But I still enjoy it from time to time.”
“You’re amazing.” God, I had no filter.
The shadow lifted as his piercing blue gaze found mine again. “Thanks, but that was nothing. Just messing around for the kids.”
“That was nothing?” I wasn’t buying it. “It looked pretty impressive to me.”
“I can teach you a few tricks.” His eyes tracked slowly over my face, and my skin heated under the attention. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall.”
The words were innocent. His tone was not. And for a reckless second, I let myself picture it. His hands gripping my hips. Holding me firm. Pulling me closer. His breath hot on my neck.
My pulse hammered, vibrating through every part of me. “I don’t think so. I wouldn’t want to make any of the kids jealous.”
“Listen, I’ve got to get going,” Chantel interrupted. “Zadie, stay. Let Caleb teach you a few things.”
“Where are you off to?” The warning bells I’d been ignoring were now screaming.
“I’ve got a date.” Her gaze drifted somewhere over my shoulder, avoiding mine.
“A date?” We had plans. Plans she’d already modified once today. And now she was bailing entirely for a date? In the middle of the afternoon?
I couldn’t even remember the last time Chantel had been on a date. She was married to her job, especially after the move here. But a mysterious afternoon date that she couldn’t look me in the eye about?
This was a setup. My best friend was the goddamn devil.
“Come on, Zadie. It’ll be fun.” Caleb’s voice was low, and he was watching me like my answer was the only thing that mattered.
None of it made him easier to resist.
“I can’t. I have to go.” I turned and walked toward home as fast as my legs could carry me.
Home. Where Caleb also lived. Where, eventually, I’d have to face the exact thing I was fleeing from. The irony wasn’t lost on me, but I was too far gone to care.
My head was spinning and so were my emotions—paranoia, frustration, arousal, and a simmering anger that threatened to overflow. The combination made me want to scream, or cry. Possibly both at the same time.
Maybe pregnancy was like grief, with its own set of stages. I’d done denial. I’d done regret. I thought I’d reached acceptance, but apparently, I’d landed on rage.
Chantel caught up to me in seconds, her stride almost as determined as mine.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” She stepped in my path, forcing me to stop.
“Me? I should ask you that question. How dare you set me up like that? Do you enjoy making me miserable? It’s bad enough he’s moved in without you warning me. But this? What were you thinking?”
“Fuck d’ostie, you need to chill out. All I was trying to do was get you to loosen up and have some fun. It’s skateboarding, not a marriage proposal.” She huffed a frustrated breath, and my ultra-bitch ego deflated.
We stood in silence a moment, the sounds of the park floating around us, the breeze tickling through my hair.
“I understand you’re going through a big upheaval,” she said, finally, her tone softer. “Honestly, it’s the only reason I’ve let you act this way. But your life isn’t ending, and we both know Caleb isn’t the real reason you’re spiraling.”
She was right. At least partially. Most of my reaction was about us. The secrets she’d been holding. The distance I could feel growing between us no matter how close we lived. The fear that I was losing my best friend at the exact moment I needed her most.
The other part was about losing myself. Fear that having this baby would wreck every plan I'd scraped together from the rubble of my last disaster.
“Why do you have to be right all the time?”
“Because I’m older and wiser.” She ran her hand over my arm.
“Three years hardly counts.”
“Those are doctor years. That’s the equivalent of three decades.”
God, this argument again. “Fine. You want to be thirty years my senior? Go ahead. I’ll keep my tiny twenty-eight-year-old brain, thanks.”
“I said equivalent.” She laughed. “That doesn’t add years to my life. Besides, I still have the body of a twenty-year-old. Best of both worlds, cocotte.”
Her amusement told me that despite my tantrum, we were still okay. But I couldn’t bring myself to laugh with her. Nothing felt funny. It felt like nothing would ever be funny again.
“Chantel...” I groaned. “Why did you have to bring up your body? I’m going to get fat. I’m short and compact to begin with, and my ass is already stretching my favorite jeans.”
She gave me a look reserved for toddlers. “You’re growing a human being, not getting fat. And your ass?” She smirked. “Trust me, it’s holding up just fine. But if you need a second opinion, I’m sure Caleb would be happy to conduct a thorough inspection.”
“Don’t even joke.”
But an evil grin was already spreading across her face. “Why not? You know you want him.”
My body was heating at just the thought. But I’d just watched him launch himself off a ramp like gravity was optional. He was gorgeous, twenty-one, and free, and in seven months I’d be waddling through this park with swollen ankles and a diaper bag.
“Please,” I said. “Like it makes any difference. What I want doesn’t matter.”
“It matters.” Her grin dropped. “You still have choices, Zadie. You always have choices. Don’t set your happiness aside. Not yet.”
“I’ve already decided. I’m keeping the baby.” When exactly I’d made that decision, I wasn’t sure. But there was no question. It was what I wanted.
“That’s great. Doesn’t mean you have to go through it alone.” She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a tight side-hug. “You might be a bit of a mess right now, but you like Caleb. He likes you too. Don’t shut that down.”
“You know I already did. He asked me out, and I said no. Remember?”
“Then change your mind.” She squeezed me tighter. “I’ll talk to him if you want. He’ll understand.”
“What? Don’t you dare.” I tried to pull away but she had me locked in.
“Why not?”
I gave in, sagging into her grip. “Because a relationship right now would be a mistake. A big one.”
“Who says it has to be anything right now? Just let him in, Zadie. Stop slamming the door every time he knocks.” She released me from her stranglehold but pinned me with a glare. “You won’t do it on your own, and I don’t want to hear you crying when you realize I’m right.”
Why did I ever bother arguing with her? The more I disputed it, the more convinced she became.
“Fine, Chantel.” I shook my head. “Do whatever you want. My life’s already a disaster. Might as well bring Caleb into it. I’m sure he won’t mind having his cousin set him up with a pre-made family. What young guy doesn’t dream of taking on eighteen years of someone else’s responsibility?”
“There’s a lot about him you don’t know.
” She straightened, arms folding tight across her chest. “If you knew, you’d realize how wrong you are.
But you are right about one thing. I don’t think I should fix any more of your problems. I love you, Zadie, but you need to pull your head out of your ass. ”
My jaw dropped, but she wasn’t done.
“You’re not the first woman in the world to have an unplanned pregnancy. Not everyone would consider it a disaster.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “Some might even think of it as a blessing.”
The wind caught her hair as she turned, but not before I caught the glint of a tear on her cheek and the wobble of her chin. She walked away, leaving me standing on the sidewalk with a lump in my throat.
Either I really was a horrible, raging bitch, or I didn’t know my best friend the way I thought I did. But she sure had a handle on me.
The selfishness. The self-pity. The constant spiral. All of it needed to stop.
Right now.
Those reckless feelings weren’t solving anything.
And apparently, neither was anyone else.