THIRTY-THREE
JACK
“Everything looks good,” Susan says as she hands Emma some paper towels to wipe the ultrasound gel from her belly. “Only about two more weeks to go. I bet you can’t wait for it to be over.”
I laugh as Emma groans. “Yes!” she exclaims. “I’m exhausted. Poor Jack can attest to my whiny mood most of the time.”
Susan gives her a sympathetic smile and sits at the desk to flip through Emma’s file. “The only thing we have to monitor closely is your blood pressure. It’s still too high.”
Emma frowns. “Yeah, I know. I don’t want an emergency c-section because of pre-eclampsia.”
I look back and forth between them, grimacing. “Pre-what?” I ask.
“It’s a pregnancy complication,” Susan explains. “It goes along with high blood pressure and signs of damage to the liver or the kidneys. If it’s left untreated, it can lead to more severe complications. But don’t worry,” she adds when she notices the frown on my forehead deepen. “We keep an eye on Emma to avoid that.”
“Jack, it’s okay,” Emma says softly. She stands in front of me and rests her hands on my cheeks. “Look at me.”
I meet her gaze, and what I see in her eyes eases the tension in my body .
“Don’t worry, I’m good,” she whispers before pressing a soft kiss on my lips.
I wrap her up in a hug. “All right. But just so you know, I’ll keep a closer eye on you too.”
Emma chuckles. “Fine by me.”
After the appointment at the hospital, Emma and I return to my apartment, where we’ve been spending most of our time lately. We still haven’t decided what to do once the baby is born, mainly because Emma avoids that conversation. She doesn’t want to push me into anything or pressure me with responsibility. She says she wants me to have the option to take a break from too much closeness whenever I need to. So she plans to stay at her place, where she set up a crib beside her bed, a changing table, and other basics.
While driving, I grasp Emma’s hand and intertwine our fingers. She smiles at me and lifts our joined hands to her mouth to brush her lips over the back of my hand before placing it on her huge belly—a gesture that makes me grin like a lunatic. I love these tender moments between us.
Unfortunately, those moments have become rare lately. Emma never says anything, but I know she’s stressed about the birth and caring for the baby, and it never helps when I reassure her time and again that I’ll be there to support her and that I want to live with her.
But one more try won’t hurt, right? “Em, move in with me,” I say without taking my eyes off the road.
“Jack …” She lets out a deep sigh. “We’ve talked about this. I don’t think I should.”
“Well, I think you should. I don’t see the point of having two separate apartments. If you think I’ll sleep even one night at my place without you two, you’re dead wrong. My apartment is bigger than yours, so the three of us will have plenty of room until we find a more suitable place.”
Emma studies me. She doesn’t say anything for so long that I take her silence as my answer. But then she whispers, “Okay.”
I throw her a glance, gaping at her before turning my eyes back on the road. “Okay? Are you agreeing to move in with me?”
“Yes.”
“Really? That’s fantastic!” I say with a shaky laugh.
I turn to Emma when we pull up in front of my building. I pull my keys from the ignition, remove the key to my front door from the set, and hand it to Emma. “There you go. Welcome to your new apartment.”
Emma accepts the key with a smile on her sweet lips and exits the car. I walk behind her as she unlocks the door and we enter my—no, our apartment.
She turns to me with a happy smile. “Come on. I’m starving. Let’s make some food in my new kitchen before I meet your sister in an hour.”
Once Emma leaves to meet Liv after lunch, I stay home to tidy up and rearrange the furniture to make room for the baby stuff.
While I do, the silly grin that’s been on my face since Emma finally agreed to move in with me grows wider and wider. With every scenario that plays in my head where we’ll spend time here as a new family—with our baby—I’m happier than ever.
While I reposition the couch for the umpteenth time, still looking for the best spot to leave it, a knock on the door interrupts my bustling.
With a lightness in my step, I open and blink at my visitor. “Kate! What are you doing here?”
I haven’t seen Kate for a couple of weeks, and communication between us has been scarce for a while. Ever since I told her to stop the flirting, she has backed off and hasn’t made any more advances, and instead, we’ve been spending only a little time together here and there, meeting for a coffee, where she updated me on how her dad was doing. But she’s never turned up unannounced. So why is she here now?
“Hey, Jack!” Kate greets me with a smile. “Can I come in? Or am I disturbing you? Is Emma here?” She looks past me into the apartment.
“No, she’s not. Sure, come in.” I step aside, and she walks to the living room.
“What’s happening?” she asks, pointing to the mess.
“I’m moving the furniture around to make more room for the baby’s stuff.”
“The baby?” Kate turns to me with a pinched expression. “You mean Emma’s baby?”
I narrow my eyes at her, wondering even more what she’s doing here. “No, I mean our baby.”
She snorts. “Come on, Jack. You can’t still be serious about this.”
I rub my tight chest. “What are you talking about?”
She wraps her arms around herself and turns away from me. With a deep sigh, she mutters, “This is ridiculous.” She turns back to me. “Why her, Jack? She’s having someone else’s baby. What if the baby daddy shows up? Don’t you think Emma will choose him?”
Wow, that burst out of her quickly. The pounding in my ears grows louder, and my shoulders tense. “What has gotten into you? Why are you saying this? That won’t happen. I don’t care that I’m not the biological father. This baby will be mine.”
With a humorless laugh, she swats at the air. “You? A dad? Are you sure you’re ready for this commitment? And on top of that, with a woman you’ve just met? Be honest with yourself; you’re not the type to settle down. Even when we were together, you would fuck other women.”
“We weren’t really together, Kate,” I grumble through clenched teeth. Her insinuation irritates me. “That was a fake relationship—an arrangement. Are you here to tell me you think I’m making a mistake? Or what is it you want?”
She flicks her gaze to the ceiling and crosses her arms over her chest. “Yes, Jack. You are making a mistake, and I’m here because I want to talk about us,” she says with another deep sigh.
I furrow my brows. “About us? You and me?”
“Jack, I—” She clears her throat and averts her gaze. She squeezes her eyes shut before looking at me again. “I can’t stop thinking about you and what we had. I thought I was over it, but these past months I’ve been back have shown me that isn’t the case.”
“Kate, don’t—”
She holds up her hand. “Let me finish. I thought I could see this thing we had as what it was—an arrangement, as you called it. But then …” She draws in a deep breath. “Then you slept with me, and things changed. I hoped you finally saw more in me, but once I realized you didn’t, I couldn’t take it anymore. It hurt so bad you couldn’t see how madly in love with you I was.” She stands right in front of me, looking at me with a painful expression. “That’s when I asked for a transfer—to get away from you, to forget you.”
With every word she says, my unease grows. What the fuck am I supposed to tell her that I haven’t already said? She knows I don’t feel that way about her. And now she’s here, telling me she’s not over me yet, right after letting me know how stupid she thinks I am. “Kate,” I say, running my hand over my face. “We’ve talked about this.”
She comes even closer so we’re almost toe-to-toe. “Don’t I mean anything to you anymore?” she whispers.
I clench my jaw and close my eyes. Damn, this is killing me. “If I didn’t care about you,” I say with a deep sigh, “I’d tell you to get lost. But I do, Kate. I do care about you. I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me, but I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you ask of me.”
She takes another step toward me and rests her hand on my chest. With my eyes still closed, I lower my head. “Are you telling me you feel nothing?” she whispers, and I sense her face coming closer.
“Don’t do that, Kate,” I murmur. I should push her back and tell her to leave, but for some reason, I can’t. I can’t push away the person who helped me through that dark time in my life .
“Jack, I love you,” she says before pressing her lips on mine. I don’t know why this kiss surprises me, and I know even less why guilt is rushing through me. But I don’t feel guilty because I let Kate kiss me, but because I can’t give her anything in return for what she did for me. What the fuck is wrong with me? Because while Kate helped me through my despair, it’s Emma who helped me out of it. It’s Emma who’s responsible for my happiness. I need to stop this.
I place my hands on Kate’s waist and push her off me. She takes a couple of steps back and shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
I glare at her, wondering what exactly she means because she shouldn’t have done any of the things she did, starting with showing up here. Anger bubbles inside me, pushing away the guilt I felt a moment ago. Anger at Kate, who claims to be my friend but sows confusion inside my head and tries to make me betray Emma.
Kate lets out a shaky breath. “I should go.” She spins around and walks toward the door, but before she’s out of sight, she turns back to me. “I still believe the whole baby thing is bound to fail.” And with that, she’s gone.
I squeeze my eyes shut and drag my fingers through my hair. Again, I ask myself what’s wrong with me. Someone needs to talk some sense into me. So I grab my keys and phone and rush out of my apartment.
A couple of hours later, I sit at Paul’s kitchen table, finishing the remains of the Chinese takeout we ordered. During our meal, I told him about Kate’s visit and how she messed with my head when she so strongly doubted my ability to be in a committed relationship and, what’s more, a father.
Paul stares at me intently. “Jack, seriously. Why would you listen to a woman who’s been secretly in love with you for such a long time and is bitter now that you have fallen in love with someone else? I mean, bless her for what she’s done for you, but what she’s doing now is just wrong.”
I frown. “I guess. But still … What if I’m rushing into this, and it turns out to be a rash decision?”
Paul chuckles. “With the baby coming soon, you don’t have much time to ponder. You were so determined from the beginning to accept that child as your own. Don’t let anyone talk you out of it. Don’t doubt this. You and Emma will work it out, I’m sure.”
I sigh. “Oh, Emma doubts enough for the both of us. Speaking of which—” I check the time. “Shit! I should probably let her know where I am.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and frown. “Can I use your charger?” I ask Paul. “My phone died.”
“Sure. Right over there.” He points to the socket next to the fridge.
When I plug in my phone and restart it, I’m immediately met with a massive amount of text messages and notifications about missed calls and voice messages. My heart beats faster, and a sense of dread washes through me.
“Shit,” I mutter. “Something’s wrong. Has anyone tried to call you? ”
Paul gets his phone from the living room, and I don’t even bother to read all the messages. I call Emma right away, but she doesn’t answer.
“I have a missed call from Emma,” Paul says as he reenters the kitchen.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Can you call her?” I ask him when I hang up. “I’ll look through the messages to find out what’s up.”
While he dials Emma’s number, I skim over my messages. They’re all from Emma, starting out relatively harmless, asking me where I am. But my heart beats faster the more I read. Something is wrong, and she isn’t feeling well.
Her last text says:
Emma: Jack, please!! Call me ASAP.
“Finally! Hey!” Paul says.
I turn to him, and bile rises in my throat when I see his expression.
“Ethan?” Paul asks. “Why are you answering Emma’s phone?”
My breath hitches as I listen to Emma’s last voice message. I have to hold on to the kitchen counter when she sobs and pants. “Jack!” she yells. “Fuck, where the hell are you? I need you. Something’s wrong, Jack. Really wrong. There’s too much blood—”
Then she groans as if in great pain, but what follows is worse. After one last whimper, there’s only complete and disturbing silence.