Page 155 of The Promise Of You

Besides, there are no bad people in my life.

I hang up, confused and slightly disappointed from my call with Fiona. I don’t feel better. If anything, I feel worse.

Easy Monday has outdoor seating next to the river, and after I pick up my obligatory Road to Heaven from Millie at the counter (“You look like you need a Back From Hell, but you’re the boss”, she said), I sit at a table hidden behind a large hydrangea in full bloom. Stretching my legs in front of me, taking a deep breath, I force myself to be in the moment. Nothing else exists other than the sunrays warming my skin, the river flowing peacefully below me, the hum of the bees feasting on the light pink, oversize flowers right behind me.

This moment is perfect.

“I’ve talked him into going to Lamaze with me.” The grating voice shrills through the morning, zinging through my system like an electric shock.

Gisele. Gisele is sitting within earshot, talking to someone on the phone, oblivious to my presence right behind the hedge of flowers.

Lamaze? That’s prenatal exercises, right? Isn’t that for couples to attend together? Is she talking about Justin? Is he going to hold her, accompany her breathing exercises?

Does that mean he’s preparing to be in the delivery room with her?

That would make sense, right?

Does that mean he’ll whisper sweet little nothings to her when the time comes to deliver the baby? Hold her hand?

Oh god, god!

Of course he will. He’s that kind of person.

“We’re working on becoming a family,” Gisele says and my heart stutters, my body goes cold. “We’re going to couple’s therapy… He’s changed, since I’m back in his life, and… our child has matured him. I know he’ll be a wonderful father. Very present.”

My heart hammers in my rib cage, my breathing constricts, and the table looks like it’s twirling below me. I lower my head between my knees, trying to get some air in, trying to shut off the outside world.

Couples’ therapy?

Justin did mention going to see a therapist. I didn’t ask questions. Maybe I should have. Maybe I’m not seeing what’s right in front of me.

What else does a perfect dad do? My mind goes down a deadly path, filling with images that torture me. Justin sleeping on a cot in Gisele’s apartment so he can help with night feedings.

I mean, why not? She doesn’t have the support of her own family. So, who else? Justin won’t let her deal with this alone. He’s not that kind of person.

And who will change the baby after the feeding?

Oh god. I can just see it. Her breastfeeding, him plucking the child from her carmine nipples as she lulls back to sleep, changing the baby so she can get some rest.

Her arousal at the sight of Justin’s bare chest, all muscles and tats, taking care of their child. What woman wouldn’t want him?

His gaze trailing on her offered breasts. What man could be insensitive to that?

One thing will lead to another…

I mean, of course. What was I thinking?

We were supposed to be a one-night stand anyway. Life threw us back together, and okay, we have great chemistry, but between me and the mother of his child? I don’t stand a chance. The man used to have a different woman in his bed every… what? Week? Day? Who knows?

If he’s going to commit to someone, it’ll be the mother of his child, not little old me.

I don’t want to fight.

It’s just not who I am.

I don’t want to be the nagging girlfriend. So what if he goes to Lamaze and couples’—couples!!—therapy. Isn’t that his right?

I’ve been so stupid.

---