THIRTEEN
EMMA
The day after my night shift, I wake up in the early afternoon after sleeping for maybe four or five hours. This is usually enough for me, but I feel utterly exhausted today.
What a night it has been. I didn’t expect Jack to show up, and I still can’t grasp what happened. He told me he liked me. He kissed me! It was a kiss so soft and barely there that I’m not sure it happened—if our lips really touched. But I still feel that tingling from last night and how it affected me.
The rest of my shift was a struggle, and concentrating on anything was an impossible task. I was a mess, and everyone, including me, was glad when I could finally go home. It wasn’t until then that I realized I didn’t have Jack’s number, and he didn’t have mine. How were we supposed to meet for dinner? So I was all the more surprised when I checked my phone on my way home and saw a message from an unknown number.
The butterflies started another one of their dances around my belly when I read Jack’s text.
Jack: Hey, Emma. Paul gave me your number, I hope that’s okay. I’ll pick you up at 7 if that’s all right with you? Just let me know where to pick you up .
And now, I lie in my bed, yawning and stretching, trying to get rid of the fatigue. A lukewarm shower does the trick, and coffee should help too. As I step out of the bathroom, I walk past the full-length mirror and stop when I catch a glimpse of myself. Still in my underwear, I turn and inspect my body from the side. I’ve never been the super skinny kind with the flat tummy, so there’s no external sign of my pregnancy yet. Rob likes to keep me updated on what’s happening when, so I know that at fourteen weeks, the baby is the size of a lemon. A fucking lemon! This is all going so fast. Nine months will be over before I know it, and I will have this baby to care for. I should reorganize my life soon.
What I shouldn’t do is hold on to this stupid crush I have on Jack. But that will be hard, especially after last night. There’s no denying that I want him. Bad.
Shit, why did I get myself into this mess? I’ll lose him before I even had him.
Once I’m dressed, I prepare a mug of coffee and a snack while I sit on my couch, trying to take my mind off all my worries. But my ringing phone interrupts my moment of peace. I groan when I see the caller ID. I’m tempted to let it go to voicemail, but I can’t dodge her for much longer. We haven’t talked in two weeks. So I pick up. “Hey, Mom.”
“Emma, darling! I thought you were avoiding my calls. Why don’t you ever call me back?” The reproach in her voice makes me cringe. Okay, relax, don’t go there!
“Mom, why would I avoid your calls? Seriously. I’m sorry. I was busy. Working a lot.” I struggle to keep my voice under control .
She sighs, and I sense her eye roll through the phone. “Yes. Work. That’s why I’m calling.”
A sense of foreboding hits me about what she’ll say next. “I told you about that surgeon your father met at the medical convention, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did, and before you go on: no, Mom, I do not want to move to Miami and work at his private clinic.”
“Emma, be sensible,” she huffs. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The job pays well, and you’ll live closer to us.”
And that right there is the deal breaker. “Please, Mom. I don’t want to leave New York. I like my life. My friends are here, and I love my job.”
She takes a deep breath. “Sweetheart, don’t decline this offer right away. Give it some thought, okay?”
Keeping the annoyance out of my voice becomes more challenging with every word she says. “Fine, I will.”
No, I won’t.
“Wonderful. Are you coming to your father’s birthday party?”
“That’s not until August.”
“We need to plan.”
Again, I sigh in a futile attempt to ignore my irritation. “I’ll try to get a couple of days off work.”
I still haven’t thought about how I’ll tell her the joyous news about my pregnancy. But showing up at my father’s birthday party with a big baby belly isn’t the best solution. And I will keep this from her as long as possible.
“Are you bringing your lovely friend? Robert? I’d love to see him again. ”
“Mom! Why would I bring him to Dad’s birthday party?”
“Because your brother is bringing his boyfriend, you should also bring someone.”
“I won’t bring Rob. You know I don’t feel that way about him, Mom.”
“Have you tried? Darling, I keep telling you you’re not getting any younger. Think about your future. With him, you’ll at least have financial security.”
I grind my teeth. This woman displays exasperating audacity. “I don’t need a man for financial security. I earn enough money to care for myself.”
She blows out a breath. “Okay, Emma, we’ll talk about this another time. When you’re less moody.”
I gather all my willpower to not throw a few choice words at her. “Yes, Mom, let’s do that. I’m sorry, I’m pretty tired today.” Sucking up to her has always proved to be the most sensible thing to do.
“That’s fine, darling. Call me. I love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
Damn, talking to her is exhausting. After the call, I lie on my couch and close my eyes for just a minute or two.
A minute or two later, a knock on my door startles me awake. I need another minute or two to figure out where I am and who I am, and, most importantly, what year it is. Ugh, I shouldn’t have taken a nap. I always wake up confused and feeling like I’m hungover .
Whoever is at my door knocks again. Groaning, I peel myself off the couch and shuffle to the door. Who the fuck wants something from me? I rub my eyes and fix my hair before opening, and I gasp when I face my visitor. “Shit, Jack! What are you doing here?”
He eyes me up and down with a chuckle. “I’m sorry. I rang your doorbell a few times before one of your neighbors let me inside the building, and—” He chuckles again as I furrow my brows. “Did we not say I’d pick you up at seven?”
I blink at him before my eyes widen and I check my watch. Fuck, I didn’t sleep for a minute or two; I slept for three hours! “Dammit, I fell back asleep.” I grimace as I step aside. “I’m sorry. Come in.”
I close the door behind him and turn around. Only now do I take a closer look at him. Damn, he’s so handsome in dark jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Ass-hugging dark jeans and a tight-fitting plain white T-shirt, that is. Handsome? Scratch that. Sexy as fuck.
Jack turns to me, and when he catches me staring, he smiles. And I blush. Dammit again! I clear my throat. “Hey, Jack.”
“Hey, Peach.” His smile widens as it’s his turn to take a closer look at me. I cringe at my outfit because I’m nowhere near sexy in my oversized T-shirt and sweats.
I wrinkle my nose. “Just give me five minutes to get ready.” I look down at myself and run my hand through my hair. “Okay, maybe ten.”
He holds up his hand. “Hey, no need to hurry. We don’t have to go out. We could stay in and order some food. Or we’ll do this some other time. You look pretty tired. ”
Some other time? I frown at his suggestion. Does that mean he doesn’t want to spend the evening with me? “Uh, okay. If you want to … I mean, yeah, we can meet up another night.”
“Emma,” he says in a low voice, stepping closer. But there’s still enough room so we don’t invade each other’s personal space. “I’m here, and I’d love to spend time with you now. I was just worried about you being so tired. Maybe you’d prefer to go to bed.”
Oh, the pictures! Yes, let’s go to bed.
Ugh, stupid hormones! They make me want to do stupid things. They make me want to lean in and press my lips on his. They make me want to throw myself at him. Damn, does he have to look at me like this? Why is he looking at me like this? Shit, is he leaning in? Oh no, he can’t! He doesn’t know yet!
“I’m pregnant!” I blurt out.
Jack blinks at me before narrowing his eyes. “Excuse me? Did you just say you’re pregnant?”
I bite my lips and nod. Good job, Emma. “I’m sorry for throwing this at you like that,” I say, pacing up and down with my hand on my forehead. “But this was eating me alive. That’s what I wanted to tell you last night. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I couldn’t. I was struggling with this myself and didn’t know what to do. And then you came to the ER last night and said—”
“Emma, please, relax,” Jack interrupts. He grabs my arms to stop me from pacing up and down further, but he lets go as soon as I stand in front of him, staring at him with wide eyes. “Emma, breathe.”
“Okay,” I respond, still staring at him. “Uh, so do you want to leave now?” I point to the door .
Jack lowers his eyes to the floor and chuckles. With a shake of his head, he lifts his gaze and meets my lingering stare. “No, I don’t want to leave now, but I have a lot of questions.”
“I bet you do.” Grimacing, I inspect my clothes. “Can we continue this conversation after I get dressed? I’d feel much more comfortable.”
“Of course.”
I excuse myself to put on actual pants and a better-fitting T-shirt and apply just a little makeup before I tie my hair up in a messy bun—no time for more.
No need for more.
When I return to the living room, Jack sits on the couch, and once we order pizza and get some drinks, he begins his questioning. He starts off with, “How long have you known?”
I frown. “I took the test after Paul’s birthday party.”
“Was this planned? I mean, are you in a relationship?”
I lower my head, and the frown on my forehead deepens. “No, and no. This was a stupid and very drunken mistake.” Worrying what he might think of me, I search his face but spot no sign of judgment.
“And what’s next?” he just goes on.
“I don’t know. I really don’t know. As far as work is concerned—from Monday on, I’ll be working on the maternity ward.”
He tilts his head. “How come?”
I avert my gaze. “It feels weird after the attack, and it will get harder to work at the ER as the pregnancy progresses. Rob suggested I ask for a transfer. I’ve worked there before, so it seemed like a sensible thing to do.” I lift my eyes again and meet his curious gaze.
“Rob—that’s the doctor I met when I tried to fix the ultrasound device, right?” He smirks at me when he uses air quotes on the word tried.
I nod, chuckling. “That’s him.”
“Are you close?”
“He’s my best friend. I met him a few years ago when he still lived in Baltimore. He was tutoring my brother, who’s attending med school there. About two years ago, he got a job offer here in New York. We’ve been inseparable since. And yes, I’m sure he’s just a friend.”
Jack hesitates before asking his next question. “Is he the father?”
My eyes widen. “Rob? No! It’s someone I met at my friend Abby’s wedding. He stayed at the hotel where the reception was held. But he told me quite clearly the next morning that this was not to be repeated.”
Jack frowns. “So he doesn’t know?”
I shake my head. “I only know his first name and that he lives in Washington, and I’m not keen on finding him to give him the good news. He probably wouldn’t take it too well. I made my peace with the fact that I’ll be a single parent.”
“Which means you’re keeping it?”
For a split second, I wonder if I correctly interpreted his tone as hopeful. “Yes. It took me a while to accept it, but I will keep it, and I will do everything in my might to be a good mom.”
“I think it’s great. I’ll be there for you if you need a friend, okay? ”
A friend? I don’t need a friend, but I won’t tell him that. If he thinks it’s great I’m pregnant, he’s not interested, anyway. But interested in what? What am I interested in? A relationship? He hasn’t even told me why he avoids being touched. How would a relationship work at all?
“As you know,” he interrupts my thoughts, “my sister is pregnant too. Do you want to come to my niece’s birthday party this Saturday? I can officially introduce you to Liv if you need another woman to talk to.”
I smile at him. “That’d be great.”
It would be, right? It would be great to have someone to ask the many questions that occupy my worrying mind. Or would it be weird to not only befriend the guy I have a crush on but also his sister? Is this a good idea?
As our conversation carries on, only one thing is sure: I did lose him before I had him.