Chapter 21
Rain
The knock at the door is light, but it breaks the stillness of the apartment.
I pull it open to find Mario standing on the mat. He has a few files tucked under his arm, but his attention immediately drops to the table inside the doorway.
“Hey,” I say, stepping back to let him inside.
“Hi, Rain.” He enters, his eyes tracking the room before landing on the dining counter.
Two glass vases sit side by side. One holds the bouquet Cody gave me outside the school gates, the stems slightly aged but still holding on. Right next to it is the fresh arrangement from yesterday, the colorful petals vibrant under the kitchen light.
Mario studies the display, a small tension settling into the lines of his face. He shifts the folders from one arm to the other. “I see Cody has been bringing you flowers.”
I don't like the subtle edge in his tone when he drops my husband's name. A defensive instinct rises within me. “Yes,” I say, keeping my voice smooth but firm. “He got them for me.”
Mario swallows hard. He shifts his weight, rocking back and forth on his toes—a small habit I recognize from the office.
The air between us grows tight. I watch him closely, a realization dawning on me.
You cannot keep doing what you are doing, stepping into a person's life at unnecessary hours, unless there is a specific feeling driving you.
I feel a sudden wave of apprehension. If this continues, I am going to lose a good friend. My heart belongs to my husband; it always has.
“Do you want some ice cream?” I ask, wanting to create a safe boundary of casual hospitality.
“Yeah. Sure,” he says.
I head to the kitchen, scooping a single portion of the mint ice cream into a bowl. When I return to the living room and sit down opposite him, he sets the files on the coffee table and slides them toward me.
“Rain,” he begins, his voice dropping into a lower register. “I’ve been your coworker for a while. I’ve been your friend. But... I more than like you. I love you, even. I just wanted to tell you. I needed to get it off my mind and try my luck.”
Oh, God, I think, my chest tightening. This is going wrong.
I look at him, the clarity of what I must do settling. “I love my husband, Mario. You have no idea how much. He is trying to work his way back to me, and I want that. I don't want to hurt you, but I cannot do this with you. I am a mother. I have children.”
“I will love them as much as I would love my own,” he pushes, stepping closer. “Even the one in your belly.”
I shake my head, my voice remaining soft but unyielding. “But I don’t love you the same way.”
He pauses, digesting the finality of the boundary.
He takes a slow breath, forcing a small smile to his lips.
“It’s fine. I’m going to be away in the UK for a year to finish my master's degree. If during that year, you and your husband haven't made up, and you feel like you want to move on... I’m right here.”
I offer a nod, knowing in my heart that the year will change nothing between Cody and me. Mario steps forward, and we share a brief, platonic hug. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my cheek, avoiding my lips, before turning toward the exit.
As he opens the front door to leave, the space on the porch is already occupied.
Cody is walking up the steps, holding a basket of fresh tangerines. Mario stops, looking Cody square in the eyes. He lifts his chin, a small smile appearing on his face as he pats Cody on the shoulder.
“You’re one lucky man,” Mario says.
Cody locks his focus onto him, his jaw working as Mario brushes past and walks down the path toward his car. I stand by the door, taking in the sudden shift in the air.
“If you are going to come in, come inside,” I tell Cody, gesturing to the living room. “Don’t stand out there for so long.”
He rushes in, the basket held carefully in his hands as I close the door against the cool air. He sets the fruit on the counter, his eyes tracing my face with a nervous intensity.
“I thought you said you were going to have them ordered and delivered,” I say, a breathless laugh escaping me.
“I wanted to see you,” he confesses, his voice rough. “That’s the truth.”
I look at him, the knowledge of my own feelings flooding my chest. I am in love with him; I can feel it in the deepest corners of my brain and my heart. But the walls cannot tumble all at once.
“I need some time to think,” I tell him, keeping a careful distance between our shoulders. “I will call you later tonight, or... you can just come around twelve so we can talk. We will sort this whole thing out.”
He nods, the vulnerability returning to his eyes, and leaves the apartment without another word.
Once the room is still, I reach for my phone and dial my mother.
“Mother,” I say the moment she answers, the weight of the day pressing on my throat. “I want to get this sorted out. I love him too much to let this sit on the fence. I want to know if I can move on with him, or if I should just stay back.”
The line holds our synchronized breathing for a long second before she speaks.
“Rain, you have spent how many months now, holding onto a shadow,” her voice carries a protective, maternal weight.
“You built a life around his absence, and now he is standing right in front of you, trying to fill those spaces. Are you holding back because you truly doubt him, or are you just afraid of getting hurt again?”
“I am afraid, Ma,” I whisper, my knuckles turning white against the phone. “The memory of that phone call... it repeats in my head. I don't want to play the fool.”
“I want you to have an open mind, Rain,” she says softly.
“I don't want to say anything that will influence your thoughts or push you into a corner. Whatever the right reason is for you... just do it. I am all for you. If you choose to forgive him, do it fully. If you choose to step away, we are right here. Just make your decision from a safe space where your heart can breathe.”
The call ends, leaving me alone in the dark apartment.
I slide my hand down, my palm resting against the soft fabric over my stomach, caressing my belly.
“We loved it when he went to the prenatal class, didn’t we?
” I whisper into the quiet room. The baby doesn't answer, but the movement beneath my fingers feels like a consensus. “I miss him. I know we’ve been spending time together for a long period, but I miss having his protection steady around me.”
I take a deep breath, watching the clock on the wall tick away the minutes. It is time to get this over and done with.
I walk downstairs at eleven-fifty, sitting on the sofa near the front window to wait. I look out at the dark street. If he comes on time, I tell myself, then I will know he really cares to have this conversation.
And if he doesn't? a quiet voice asks in the back of my mind.
Then he doesn't love me, I answer.
While the thoughts are still spinning, a pair of headlights cuts through the darkness. The black SUV pulls down the street, slowing until it parks across from my building, directly opposite the neighbor's house.
A small smile touches my lips. He is on time.
He stays parked there for a few minutes, the engine idling in the stillness.
At exactly eleven-fifty-seven, the vehicle moves forward, pulling up right in front of my door.
The bright sweep of his headlights flashes through the glass, and I immediately reach out, snapping the curtains shut to block the glare.
I stand up, my heart racing as the final seconds count down.
At twelve o'clock on the dot, the doorbell rings.