Page 72 of Twenty Years Later

"I want to. I really do. But I can't help what I keep thinking about obsessively. What if he goes back to her? What would I do then?"

"First of all, that's not going to happen. And you know what? Even if it did—which it won't—you'd be fine. Yeah, it would be hard. But you've been through worse."

She had a point. I'd experienced worse. And yes, I'd waded through it somehow. But the pain of it... the pain had been more than I could handle at times. And the thought of facing that kind of pain again destroyed me inside.

"And why on earth do you assume that he'd choose her over you anyway?" she asked.

That was a good question actually. "I guess because she was the one that left him in the first place. So maybe he still has feelings for her?" I groaned. "I don't know. It's just bringing up all kinds of crazy I haven't felt in a long time. I forgot how agonizing being in a relationship can be."

"It can be hell," she admitted.

"Especially in the beginning when you don't know where you stand. At least with Blake, I felt pretty sure... I mean, you can never be one-hundred percent sure I guess. But I, at least, was ninety-nine percent confident that he'd never leave me or cheat or anything."

"I'm at about ninety here." I smiled at her tone of voice. "But I remember how it really sucks at the start when no one has committed to anything."

"And I feel so old to be doing all this again. I just don't have the energy. Like with Blake, in the beginning, I'd sneak out of bed in the morning and brush my teeth, comb my hair, wipe away the drool, and sneak back into bed, pretending I woke up like that."

She laughed. "Please tell me you didn't put on makeup."

"No. I didn't go that far. But over the years, there was such a comfortableness there, you know?"

"I do know. Yeah. I'm only at year seven. But I'm trying to think, what year did I stop holding in my stomach? Or start having hairy legs all winter?"

I had to laugh. And that's why I loved my best friend. I knew she'd make me feel better. "You know how much I love you, right?"

"You know how much I love you? And you know you have nothing to worry about?"

Sighing, I propped my feet up on the ottoman. "I guess I'm just reverting back to some high school insecurities being with him."

"That makes sense." She paused for a moment. "And what else? Did you talk about your future at all or either one of you moving?"

"No. No, we didn't. I just don't see how it's ever going to work." The whole thing was so hopeless. We had no chance of a future together. "I can't move. My parents are actually starting to needmenow. And I seriously doubt he'd move. I don't know..."

"Well, maybe hewouldmove. You don't know that."

"Maybe." But I doubted it. "Maybe he's going to visit a lot during this pregnancy. Maybe that's what he meant by being here for me. I didn't want to ask too much about it. I mean, the poor guy just found out about it all. He has to be in shock."

"I get that. But I also saw the way he looked at you. That was a man that will find a way to be with you, pregnant or not."

Something about the way she said that gave me a teeny tiny bit of hope. "You think so?"

"Ireallythink so. I don't think you have anything to be insecure about, hon. Even I could see how much the man cared about you. And that was six weeks ago, before six weeks of talking every day and then seeing each other again."

"I suppose so," I said, twiddling with the string on my hoodie.

"So just chill. Let the man take care of his business in Miami and figure out how he's going to be there for you."

"Okay. I'll try." I heard the faint sound of someone else's voice on her end. "Hey, I'll let you go. I know you're probably busy with work."

"All right. You know I'm only a phone call or text away. Always."

"Same here."

"And Jayda?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to worry. Please try," she pleaded. "I know you. But just try. Do something else, like maybe some writing."

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