12. Bertie
BERTIE
Graduation passes in a blur. I expected it to drag on with how large the graduating class was, but it didn’t.
I know Luke’s seated not far from me, so I look around for his large imposing form.
The guy really is built like a wall. I spot him easily enough, towering over most people and hurry over to him.
He smiles as I get closer, his eyes crinkling at the corners with happiness.
I know it probably shouldn’t be that surprising to me, but it always shocks me how genuinely happy he is to see me.
I’m not sure in the years I was with Tommy that he ever smiled at me like that and the sad thing is Luke’s not even my boyfriend.
How did I put up with someone who never really cared about me for so long? I was an accessory, not a partner.
“We should go find Rosie and Daire,” I tell him.
“They’ve gotta be this way.” His warm palm lands on the small of my back and he helps me navigate through the crowd of people.
Daire and Rosie must’ve had the same idea because we spot them headed our way. I grin over the fact that Daire is carrying her piggyback style.
When they’re close, Rosie hops down and runs to me, throwing her arms around my shoulders. I rock back from the force of her.
“We did it!” she screams, trying to take out my ear drum, I’m sure of it.
“Yeah, we did,” I say softer. I’m still not sure how I feel about graduating. It’s not like I had a plan before, but regardless things are going to be loads different now than I thought.
“Are you coming over tonight?” Rosie asks.
Her family is getting together for a dinner tonight and they extended an invite. I glance at Luke, not sure how to respond.
“We might stop by,” I finally respond when he shrugs, putting the ball in my court.
Rosie wiggles her shoulders and grins at me. “We?”
I swat my elbow against Luke’s ribs. “Only because he won’t leave my side.”
And he won’t. I would’ve thought his constant worrying and hovering would be overbearing, but I find it sweet.
“Okay, I’ll see you later, then.” Rosie beams like we’ve already agreed to be there. Frankly, I think I might be people’d out, but I also know she’ll be bummed if I don’t show. “We need to go save Sammy from our families.”
Daire crouches down again and she hops on his back. I laugh as they run off.
“They’re good together,” Luke remarks.
“Yeah, they are.”
“Should we go find my mom?” he asks, his hand pressed against my hip. I’m not sure he realizes he’s touching me.
I inhale a shaky breath and nod. I’m not sure why I’m even upset over my parents not coming. Honestly, I’m not even sure it has anything to do with me being pregnant. More than likely they completely forgot.
Luke, sensing the shift in my thoughts, says, “It’s their loss, Bertie. Not yours. You deserve more than they give you.”
My lower lip begins to wobble, and I push back the tears.
I hate that I’m letting this get to me. It’s a graduation, that’s all. In the big scheme of things, it’s not that important, but deep down when it comes to them it’s like I’m still a little girl begging for scraps that show they care.
“It’s okay to cry,” he says softly, pulling me closer against his side. “It’s okay to let yourself feel sad or angry or whatever it is you need to feel.”
“I hate that I care,” I admit, voice wobbly. “When they so obviously don’t.”
That’s when the tears come. Hard and fast and impossible to ignore. I swear it feels like all I do these days is cry over something.
Luke gathers me into his arms, his big hand coming up to cradle the back of my head. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he croons.
My fists latch onto his graduation gown, holding on for dear life.
I hate that I’m having this breakdown surrounded by the public, but it can’t be helped.
I manage to get a grip on myself and when I pull my head away from Luke’s chest, he cups my cheek, carefully wiping away the mascara smeared beneath my eyes.
“They don’t deserve you.” His lips graze my forehead. “It’s their loss, not yours. Remember that.”
I finally let him go. “Let’s find your mom.”
Luke checks his phone and says, “She’s by the stadium exit.”
He takes my hand and I let him—not because I want the security of his hold, but because it makes the most sense to navigate through the crowd of students and parents.
“Oh, honey,” his mom says when she spots us. At first, I think she’s talking to Luke but then she pushes her way between us and wraps her arms around my neck.
Ugh, I guess it’s apparent I’ve been crying.
“I’m okay,” I assure, patting her back.
“It’s okay if you aren’t,” she whispers in my ear.
I had confided in her just last night about how things went with my parents and that they weren’t coming. I was kind of surprised with as close as Luke is with his mother that he hadn’t told her, but he’d simply shrugged and said, “That’s your story to tell, not mine.”
“What are your plans for the evening?” Jocelyn asks once she’s let me go.
The scent of her vanilla perfume clings to me, providing residual comfort.
Luke looks to me for an answer. “We’ll stop by Rosie’s place later. Her family is having a dinner. I don’t know how long we’ll stay, but she wants us to come.”
I’m not sure when I started referring to Luke and me as a “we” and “us” but it feels like we’re a collective unit at this point.
“I’d love to meet her, and Daire too, one of these days,” she says, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You both talk about them, but I’ve yet to meet them.”
Luke throws his arm around her shoulders. “We’ll make it happen soon, Mom.”
I force a smile, trying not to think about all the other things that need to happen soon that are much more pressing than his mom meeting our friends.
This pregnancy is flying by and it’s terrifying me. The idea of an infant squirming in my arms in only a few months threatens to send me into cardiac arrest.
We stop by Daire and Rosie’s place for a short time. Frankly, the day has been a long one and my feet are killing me, so a quick appearance is all I feel like making.
“You ready to go home?” Luke asks, cranking up his truck that’s parked out front of their townhouse. He offered to drive my car over here, but truth be told I prefer the rumble of his old pickup. There’s something sturdy and comfortable about it, much like the man himself.
I bite my lip and he notices, a slight smile quirking up the corner of his mouth. “What is it?” he coaxes.
“Could we stop at Dairy Queen on the way home? I have an intense craving for a Blizzard.”
“Anything you want. Your wish is my command.”
Fifteen minutes later he pulls over in the parking lot so I can dig into my Carthwright Bar Blizzard.
“Does it ever get weird ordering something like that and knowing your family owns the chocolate bar?” He laps at his own spoon where he got a Reese’s one instead. Blasphemous.
I shrug and swallow my first bite. “Not really. It’s all I’ve ever known, so I guess it’s normal for me.”
“Do a lot of perks come with your last name?” His tone is purely curious.
I scrunch my lips. “Yes and no. In the right crowds it’s recognized.”
He nods, silent for a long moment before he says, “I would understand if you wanted the baby to have your last name. It might benefit them more than mine.”
That’s certainly the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth.
Truth be told, I haven’t given any thought to the situation of our child’s last name, but now that he’s planted the seed in my brain (and in my womb) I know there’s no chance in hell I want this baby to have the last name Carthwright.
“I think Covey is a worthier last name.” The words are barely above a whisper.
I need to let go of what happened with my parents. Holding onto the hurt over how they handled the news of my pregnancy is only hurting me while they continue to ride off into the sunset doing whatever the hell they please.
“Bertie—”
I hold up my hand to silence him, forgetting the spoon is in my hand and I accidently sling my next bite of ice cream on his face. My mouth pops open in horror.
“Oh my God, Luke. I’m so sorry.” I set my cup on the dashboard and scramble for the stack of napkins we were given at the drive-thru.
Before he can react, I’m on my knees and leaning into his space to wipe the ice cream off his face. When the last of the residue is gone, I realize just how close I am to him. Practically in his lap. His vibrant blue eyes stare back at me and as cliché as it is I find myself getting lost in them.
I’m not unaware of how attractive Luke is.
I’m pregnant with his baby after all.
But I’ve been doing my damndest to ignore it.
We might’ve been navigating a potential new relationship over winter break, but the baby throws a wrench into things.
Luke is a good guy, and I know he’d choose to be with me simply because I’m the mother of his child, but I don’t want him to be with me out of obligation.
My eyes drop lower counting the freckles sprinkled across his nose and the few that spread to his cheeks.
His tongue slips out, moistening his lips, and then my eyes are glued to the bow of his mouth.
My breath catches, my heart skipping a beat.
God, I want to kiss him so bad. I’d barely have to lean in to press my lips to his. I know the kiss would be good, undoubtedly make me weak in the knees. But if I kiss him, it’s crossing a line that I put there. It would be hypocritical.
That’s what has me pulling away and forcing a smile. “All clean.”
He clears his throat. “Thanks.”
Silence stretches between us and for the first time since I’ve been around Luke it’s awkward.
I have no one to blame but myself.