“Madly,” I whisper.
His eyes skewer mine with a super intense look, and though he probably doesn’t mean for it to be sexy, I feel it all the way to my toes. Most pregnancy books note that some pregnant women enjoy a libido that’s off-the-charts. With morning sickness and fatigue, I haven’t had a lot of time to feel “turned on,” but when Joe looks at me like that? Oh my god. I can literally feel my insides turn molten.
“You don’t need to be jealous,” he says. “I’m single, Harp. I’ve got my hands full with this baby coming. I’m not planning to, you know, get involved with anyone. Not right now.” His voice is cooler when he adds, “But if either of us does get involved with someone else, in the future, I mean, I think we need to discuss that, okay? Come up with guidelines for how that looks. For the baby, of course.”
The only person I want to be involved with is you.
I picture the words. I even imagine saying them. But I think I’d just be embarrassing myself. Joe doesn’t see me like that. Not anymore. He’s made that abundantly clear.
“Agreed.” Suddenly and out of nowhere, the urge to pee is so strong, I jump up, grateful for the excuse to end this conversation. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
He looks surprised. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “This happens all the time.” I pause for a second. “Was there something else you wanted to talk about? Besides flying to Anchorage together?”
He stands up, scanning my face for a second before shaking his head. “No. Nothing important.”
“Text me the details for the flight?” I ask, crossing my legs. Don’t pee your pants. Don’t pee your pants!
“Absolutely,” he says. “Happy almost Thanksgiving, Harp.”
“Happy almost Thanksgiving, Joe,” I say, bolting back to the kitchen bathroom.
***
Joe
When I went to see Harper, it wasn’t only to discuss travel plans. I mean, yes, I wanted to offer her a ride up to Anchorage, but my true intention was to talk to her about my possible relocation to Wasilla. My application was approved in October, and the day after our ultrasound appointment, I have an in-person interview scheduled at the Wasilla Town Hall.
But then she got jealous about Avery, and I felt so much tenderness for her—fuck me!—I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell her I was thinking about leaving. Besides, I reasoned, Wasilla hasn’t even made me an offer yet. Maybe it’s better to wait. See what happens.
I go back and forth about whether or not I want to relocate. As the weeks slide by, ever closer to our baby’s birth, I want to stay in Skagway. The problem with staying, however, is that I want a family. I want a wife and children. And as long as Harper Stewart is in my orbit, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to find that, because I fear I’ll always be pining after her. I need to place distance between us, or I’ll never get over her.
Either that, or I need to forgive her. Wholly and completely. So completely that I decide to trust her without suspicion or fear, and try—once and for all—to build the family I’ve always wanted with her. I just can’t picture that yet. I know she’s not perfect. I have put myself in her shoes, and I understand why she did what she did; I’m not as angry with her as I once was, but she lied to me for years, and I’m still in pain over that massive betrayal. And until I can let go of that pain, there’s always the chance I may punish her with it.
I feel myself at a crossroads. I just don’t know which way to go.
Go to Wasilla for a fresh start or stay in Skagway with Harper?
I pray for clarity and reason over the next few months.
And then, of course, there’s the instinctual way I feel whenever I lay eyes on her—a love so fierce and so true overwhelms me every time. It stops me in my tracks. It shoves reason aside. It makes me strong and weak all at once.
“Hey, Joe!” she calls to me, spotting me in the departures area of the Skagway airport. She’s rolling a suitcase behind her and has a little backpack on her back.
“Hey!” I say. “You ready to go?”
She nods. “Thanks, again, for arranging this. It’s such a relief not to have to change planes in Juneau.”
I take her bag from her hand, and pull it behind me as we walk out onto the tarmac. “Then you’ll be glad to hear that I arranged for Brian to fly us up in March for the birth, too.”
She looks up at me, beaming. “That’s great, Joe! But let me pay for my half, okay?”
“Nope. It’s my gift to you. Let’s face it—you’re doing most of the heavy lifting here.”
“True enough,” she says, patting her rounded belly.
I love seeing Harper’s body swell with my child inside. If it’s not the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, I don’t know what is. We did that. We made that baby together with love and heat and—