Page 96 of Tattered Edges

“Sure, eighty years ago. That was soon after the war. Life was very different back then. Simpler, in many ways.”

I nodded even as my stomach twisted in knots.

“But now…now there’s this,” I said softly, resting a hand against my belly. “There’s us. If we can’t figure out how to do both—”

“With you there is no either or,” he interrupted. “There was a time when I was convinced there would always be aneither or—but you and I are different. We’re all or nothing.” He reached over and swept a bit of hair behind my ear before wrapping his fingers around the side of my neck. “I said before that I don’t feel stuck—but in a way, we both are, just not how you meant it.

“I own the pub next door, and you own the bookshop downstairs. We’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. At this rate—if we only stop at one, that kid will have two businesses to sort out.”

I laughed softly, leaning into his touch as I insisted, “Let’s just see how we do with this one. For now, that’s quite enough.”

“Agreed.”

“Areyousureaboutthis?” he asked me from where he sat, atop his coffee table.

His scowl was deep, this one denoting his unquestionable concern.

It made me want to kiss him right between the eyebrows.

“If byare you sureyou meanis it time?Then, yes. If byare you sureyou meanam I ready?No. But I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.”

“I won’t lie to you—I’m nervous about leaving you here with that,” he said, nodding toward my lap.

I smiled, setting aside the book as I leaned toward him from my spot on his couch and reached for his hands.

“Babe—you’ve been looking out for me since you made me that first dirty martini. You have and no doubt will protect me from many things—but this isn’t one of them. I have to do this. I feel it in my gut.”

“You’re sure you don’t want me to read it first?”

My smile stretched into a grin, and suddenly there was way too much space between us. I let go of his hands as I stood in the space between his legs. He tilted his head back, so as not to lose sight of me, and I took hold of his face and traced my nose down the length of his.

“I love you for offering, but no. I’m good.”

I punctuated my statement with a kiss, and he hugged me around my thighs.

“You know where to find me, should you need.”

I nodded and kissed him once more before we let each other go. He left me alone in his flat as he went to start his Sunday evening shift in the Parlour, and I returned to my spot on the couch. I picked up my copy ofAll the Shades of Summer—the edges of the hardback tattered after all the time it had been in and out of my purse over the years. I smoothed my hand over the cover and stared down at it for a moment.

Rory and I were still getting used to the idea of the two of us being parents. I knew it was happening, that there was a life inside of me, but it didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel like anything. On Saturday morning, I called and set an appointment at the clinic to get another test—an official one. I was scheduled to go in first thing Monday. Rory was going to go with me. Maybe after a doctor confirmed, it would really start to sink in for both of us.

In the meantime, we agreed to keep the news to ourselves for a while—outside of Diane and Brady. But if I was being honest, I still hadn’t reached a place ofhappiness.

I was happy withRory.

I was relieved the tectonic shift that occurred when I told him about the baby had resulted in declarations of love and a deeper sense of security in our relationship. I knew we still had a long journey ahead of us, but it was the peace that came with my confidence that the journey would be long which comforted me the most.

I was no longer afraid we would fall apart; that I would be the one to mess up.

He was becoming less and less of a mystery as the days went by—but it only made me love him more, not less. I was beginning to understand that knowing someone intimately and being known and loved anyway was possible for someone like me, and it held its own immeasurable value.

Rory was still choosingallovernothing—he was choosing me, regardless of the consequences, and I chose him right back.

Still, something was missing inside of me.

I wanted to feel happy about the life we’d made, but all I felt was fear. I didn’t feel maternal. I didn’t feel excited. I was just as terrified sitting on his couch as I had been sitting on the edge of my bathtub after I’d peed on that plastic stick.

For the first time in my whole adult life—I needed my mom.

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