Page 70 of Forget Me Not

She steps into my office but hesitates to reach for a chair. Her eyes move back and forth between me and the door behind her. For a second I wonder if she’s about to bolt again, then she proves how unpredictable she still is to me by reaching behind her and closing the door, sealing herself in here with me. At least for the moment.

She clears her throat. “Cammie told me you were able to get most of your stuff.”

I nod, shuffling papers around for no reason other than I’m on edge and I don’t know any other way to expel those feelings. “Yeah, thanks for setting that up. I couldn’t find a few odds and ends, but nothing too important. You can just mail them to me when you stumble across them. Or call me. Or. Something.”

Her hands take it in turns being neatly folded in her lap one minute and then running flat over her knees the next. She’s anxious as well. “I’m sure we can figure that out as we go.” She peers up at me, locking eyes until she’s certain neither of us will waver. “I don’t want this to be weird. Or...the end.”

“You don’t?”

She shakes her head.

I release the papers for good, leaning back in my chair far enough to put my files out of reach. “You’re not exactly making it easy to keep up here.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” She sounds genuine. Even if she didn’t, her eyes are speaking volumes to the sorrow she feels over all of this. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I never wanted to hurt you either.” I guess neither of us got what we wanted there. “Still don’t.”

She shifts around in her seat. I get the sense she’s stalling.

“So, you’re living back in the city.” She’s fishing, though it’s obvious. I have no reason left to stay beachside.

“Figured taking a few steps back to try and find a new starting point wasn’t a bad idea.”

She nods. “Does that mean you’re working things out with Sam?” No sooner has she asked the question than her eyes begin to wander about as if they want to look at anything other than me.

“No, Cooper,” I answer her. I owe her an explanation beyond this though. ”Whether I agree with your decision to walk out on us is still up for debate, but you were right about one thing that night, Iwasrunning away from Sam when I came looking for you. As amazing as she is, she’s not the one for me.”

“Do you still think I am?” If she wants me to answer one way over the other, I can’t tell.

“I’m not sure I would know the right one now if she was standing right in front of me, wearing a sign across her chest.” I force a smile, though I don’t feel happy. “I think maybe what drew me to you this time around isn’t so unlike what brought us together the first time. You were right, questioning the path I’ve chosen these last seven years. It’s not one I made, just one I followed. After the accident, I was grateful to have any direction at all, but...” I pause, this is harder to admit than I thought it would be.

She moves forward, sliding her hand over my desk until it covers my own. She squeezes. “But you needed someone to show you how to throw out the map and just start walking.”

“Yeah.” I turn my hand over in hers. Our palms touch and my fingers twine around her narrow wrist.

“I get it.” Her gaze lands on our hands, still molded together. “When we first met, I needed to get a peek at that map. My whole life I’d been walking blindly, the idea of being with someone who knew how to find that elusive yellow brick road was more than a little intoxicating.”

“And now?”

“Now, I’ve learned to lay my own bricks.” Her eyes travel up to meet mine again. “You will, too.”

I can feel the corner of my mouth inch upward. “Maybe you’ll help me.”

She nods. “Any way I can.” She bites her lip, releasing my hand at last and letting it slink back into her lap. “I was really nervous coming here today. To see you.” She smiles, but it stops below her cheekbones. “But you’ve been so gracious, so wonderful about everything...it makes what I came here to tell you a lot easier.”

And it dawns on me that closing the door had nothing to do with coming or going.

She takes a deep breath in. And then changes everything with two simple words.

“I’m pregnant.”

Cooper

I feel like I’ve been nauseous for the last three days. Ever since the moment that doctor walked in and dropped that whopper of a bomb into my lap. Mags keeps pointing out it’s normal to feel like puking every second of every day during the first trimester, as if she would know, but I’m fairly certain morning sickness can’t be activated simply by finding out one is pregnant. No, this maximized level of vomiting urges is directly linked to this moment in time. The moment I knew would come the second I heard those words and knew I would have to say them again. Here. To him.

Before I can psyche myself out of anything, I press the doorbell. I follow up this reckless move with an act of cowardice, shoving both hands into my pockets. My fingers hit unexpected intruders within and I retract them instantly.

“Mags.” I can’t help but giggle at the Hershey’s kisses in my palm. I’m still staring at the chocolate as if it holds all the answers of the universe, when the door opens.

---