Page 58 of Sometimes You Fall

“Are you busy?” Grady asks as he enters my office, making it feel way smaller than it is. He’s dressed in blue jeans and a plain olive-green shirt, his light brown hair freshly cut. My ovaries jump for joy at his appearance, but my brain whips them back into submission, reminding my entire nervous system that we aren’t allowed to react to him like that.

“Uh, well…” I start, but he doesn’t wait for me to finish, taking a seat on the other side of my desk. “I’m—I’m working, Grady.”

“I know. I just…” He lifts the bag he’s carrying and places it on my desk. “I brought you some stuff I thought you could use.”

I arch a brow at him. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

He glares at me. “I know you didn’t, Scottie. I’m taking care of you, like I said I would.”

My brain wants to protest further, but my heart lurches at his gesture. And at that exact moment, I feel that flutter of bubbles move across my belly, as if our baby is aware of its daddy’s presence.

I reach for the bag and peer inside, puzzled by the assortment of items it contains.

“I finished my second book,” he says as I start extracting items and placing them on the desk.

“What the hell was this book about?”

“How to care for your pregnant wife.”

My eyes snap up to meet his. “But I’m not…”

“My wife. I know, Scottie,” he says a little too harshly, but I let it slide. “But you are carrying my child, which means I’m still responsible for you. So, I brought you a few things to make work easier as you get bigger.”

Rolling my eyes at the reminder that my waistline is expanding by the minute, I pull an apple fritter from the bag and inhale the aroma of sugar and cinnamon. “Nice touch.”

“I thought that might make you happy. You’re still craving them?”

I don’t want to admit that I’ve eaten five of them this week, but I’m sure Astrid already told him. “Yeah, that hasn’t changed, thankfully.”

“Good. The other things should help with aches and pains.”

I stare at the heat patches, eucalyptus oil, cushions for my shoes, and pregnancy herbal tea. “This is…”

“There’s also a book foryouto read,” he adds as I pull out the book and fight the urge to roll my eyes again.

“The big book of baby names?”

“Yup. I already have some ideas, but I figured I’d let you do some research of your own before we have that discussion.”

A wave of emotion comes over me. “You—you have names picked out?” How does this man manage to surprise me at every turn?

“A few, but I’m open to compromising.”

Suddenly, I’m reminded of how many discussions we’ve yet to have about our child and everything that comes next. This man went out of his way tobringme things,saythe right things, and make mefeelthings—and that’s a big fucking problem.

The reality of it all hits me, and I quickly shove everything back into the bag, eager to get space from him. “Well, thank you for this, but I really wish you would have waited until I wasn’t at work.”

His brow furrows. “Is it a problem that I’m here?”

“I just…” I scoff, gesturing around the office. “I’m working, Grady! I’ve had a shitty day and it’s only halfway over. I just had to suspend a second grader for throwing a chair in the classroom, and I have another parent meeting later about a bullying situation with our sixth graders.” I place the bag in the corner of my office by my bookshelf. “This isn’t the place for pregnancy talk, or…”

He clears his throat as he stands. “Fine. I get it. It won’t happen again.”

I can see the hurt lurking under the surface of his deep blue eyes, but he has to understand that there are boundaries. We’re not together. This is something that a boyfriend or husband would do, and he is neither of those things.

But God, what would it be like if he were?

“Thank you.”

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