Page 67 of Waiting to Love You

“I know, sweet girl.” Mom wraps her arms around me and pulls me in for a hug. “We can’t dwell on the past, but we should always keep our eyes on the future. You never know how things are going to work out.”

“How do I do that?” I wrap my arms around her waist and squeeze her tightly.

“Do you love him?”

“Yes,” I say with conviction as I pull back from her embrace.

“Then tell him. Men are simple creatures. Once he knows how you feel, if he feels the same way, everything will work out as it should.” Mom runs her thumbs under my eyes, wiping away the tears, and cups my face.

Seth told me he loved me that day, but I need him to know that I see him as so much more than the father of my child. He is one of the most important people in my life.

“Thanks, Mom,” I say with a smile, stepping around her and heading back to the table to grab my bag. I drop a kiss on the top of Rebekah’s head before turning back toward her. “I have to teach a class, but thanks for the visit and the pep talk.”

“That’s what moms are for, Bristol.” She kisses my cheek softly before patting it with her hand. “After you patch things up, you should bring Seth to have dinner with your father and me. We’d love to meet him and give him the once-over.”

Mom and I both snicker as I reach for her hand and squeeze it tightly. There are no words to explain how much these past ten minutes have rearranged my outlook on my relationship with Seth.

“Now, git. I’ll take Rebekah back to your place and put her down for her nap,” she teases.

I give her hand one last squeeze before striding out the door with a little more pep in my step than when I entered. I make my way back to the studio and get ready for my next class. I need to get Seth to at least talk to me. Although I don’t want to lay my heart out to him via text message, I may not have a choice.

I drop my bag onto the counter and fish around for my phone, grabbing it quickly.

“They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” I mumble into the empty lobby before typing out a text to Seth.

Bristol

I’m making enchiladas for dinner. Aren’t those your favorite? You can stop by if you aren’t busy. Just text me and I’ll shoot you the address.

I hit send on the phone, and then I hesitate. Mom said I need to let him know how I feel. Easier said than done, but putting it in a text is a good start.

Bristol

I miss you.

I send that message and shove the phone into my bag before I change my mind. Now it’s up to him to make a move. Hopefully, I haven’t lost him.

I make it through my last class, close the studio, and head right home to relieve my mother. After shooing her out the door with promises to visit my parents next weekend, I make a quick trip to the grocery store and get back to my house in record time. It took some Herculean effort, but I only checked my phone twice to see if Seth texted back. Nothing. I shouldn’t be surprised that he hasn’t said anything, but now that I’ve accepted my feelings for him, it hurts so much more.

“What do you think, baby girl?” I say to Rebekah as I pull her out of the car seat. “Should we cook Daddy dinner?”

She coos softly at me before trapping my face between her two tiny hands.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

I smile, leaning forward and brushing a kiss on her forehead before putting her on the floor with a few toys and getting to work on dinner. I absentmindedly begin assembling the enchiladas. Lucky for me, I know this recipe by heart, or I would be in trouble.

My mind is occupied with thoughts of Seth and how to make things right between us. I need to let him know how I feel about him. Not because we have a beautiful daughter together, but because he is the other half of me. There is no way I can convey my feelings in a text message, so I need to figure out some way to get him to talk to me.

“Maybe I can text one of the guys,” I mumble to myself as I pour the enchilada sauce into the casserole pan and shove it into the oven.

If anyone would know the way to get back into his good graces, it would be them. Men are pretty much all the same, and at this point, I’m desperate, especially since my two best friends are preoccupied with Lord knows what. I’m not bitter. Nope, not even a little bit. I just wish I knew what was going on.

I quickly set the timer on the oven, wash my hands in the sink, and head back into the living room to grab Rebekah.

“How about we get you fed, little one?” I pick her up and head back into the kitchen, strapping her into the highchair before opening the cabinet beside me in search of something to give her. Not wanting anything too complicated, I grab a jar of sweet potatoes and some rice cereal, dump some of each into the bowl, and stir them together.

“Not the most appetizing dinner, but it’s something, right?” I say as I plop down into the chair and begin feeding her.

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