Page 8 of Cloud Nine Love

By the time I made it back to the bar, I decided I was in shock. That had to be why I wasn’t upset. It was the only explanation.

Or maybe you weren’t as in love with her as you thought. A little voice in the back of my head I called my conscience, which sounded a lot like I remembered my dad sounding piped in.

Was that it?

Was I not as in love with Misty as I’d thought?

If that was the case, then what had I been doing for the past eight years of my life?

When I got back to my seat, back to the green-eyed beauty who had kept my bag safe, I still didn’t have any answers. As soon as I saw her again, my entire body lit up with awareness. I felt truly alive for the first time in a long time, and I had my answer.

I’d been sleepwalking through my life. Going through the motions. One day turning into two, turning into a week, then a month, then a year.

But this woman—whoever she was—woke me up.

I cleared my throat as I lowered myself beside her. “Thanks for saving my seat.”

“Just returning the favor.” A grin lifted on the mysterious beauty's full lips as she turned to look at me, but it slipped when her eyes met mine. Concern cast a shadow over her beautiful face as she asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, what…why do you ask?”

She remained silent but continued staring at me. The look in her eyes—or hell, maybe it was just her eyes—got under my skin and spread through me like a truth serum. I wanted to tell her everything. Or maybe I was just still in shock, and I needed to say it out loud.

The corners of her plump, raspberry lips curled up before she glanced back down at her phone. It was her way of gracefully letting me off the hook, which only made me want to tell her more.

“I found out some…news.”

Her gaze lifted once again and met mine. I knew, in that moment, I’d tell her anything if I could just keep looking into her eyes.

“Bad news?” she questioned.

“Um, my fiancée…” I stopped myself. Misty wasn’t my fiancée anymore. She was my ex.

“Fiancée?” She repeated, and unless I was imagining things, her voice had a very disappointed undertone.

I opened my mouth with every intention of saying that we’d broken up, but instead of revealing that information, I blurted out, “She’s pregnant.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “And that’s bad news?”

“She’s eight weeks pregnant. I haven’t been home in over three months.”

As soon as I said the situation out loud, I realized why, instead of explaining that she was my ex, I’d explained that I was not the father of her baby. If I was being honest with myself, the only part of me that felt a sense of loss was the part of me that had always wanted to be a dad. My dream of starting a family with Misty was gone. The babies, the kids I’d imagined raising with her, were never going to exist.

“Oh…” Understanding dawned on her beautiful face. “Are you two still going to get marr?—"

“No,” I interrupted her. “I should have said ex-fiancée. She’s with the baby’s father now.” I wasn’t sure why I was telling her things that she wasn’t even asking me, especially when the facts made me look like such a loser.

Her breath was a little shaky as she reached out and placed her hand on my forearm. It was just an innocent touch, but it felt like she was a superhero who was electrically charged. A bolt of tingles spread from her palm and fingers up my arm and through my entire body. She must have felt it, too, because just like when we’d accidentally held hands, she jerked away like she’d touched a hot stove.

She exhaled as she shook her head slightly. “I’m sorry.”

I wasn’t sure if she was apologizing for touching me or my situation. Either way, she had nothing to apologize for.

“It’s fine,” I assured her.

We sat in silence for a few seconds before she tentatively asked, “I know it’s none of my business, but how long were you two together?”

“Together eight years, engaged for five.”

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