Page 87 of The ABCs of You & Me

“Fair,” he mumbles, shifting, and suddenly his face is where his feet had been. He has to lie on his side, but he fits next to me. “Better?”

My eyes go directly to his lips. “Yes,” I purr, my body automatically turning into him.

“Good.”

“You move pretty fast for someone who issofull,” I sass.

“I have a really fast metabolism,” he whispers, lifting his hand and dragging his thumb across the corner of my bottom lip. “Sauce,” he says, bringing that same thumb to his own mouth. My tongue sneaks out to where he touched me, and I watch his eyes heat when he catches the motion.

He cannot be comfortable that close to the edge, but I can’t seem to move. I don’t want this moment to end.

“So, how did I do with J?” he asks.

“Mmm,” I hum, trying to think of an appropriate word. “Joyous? Jovial? Jolly?”

“Are you asking me if it was those things?”

“I’m just trying to stay on theme.”

“And overall, how was your experience?”

I laugh, shaking my head as he switches into serious mode. “This is starting to sound like a customer satisfaction survey.”

His gaze drops quickly and a tiny grin appears. “Your satisfaction is our number one priority here at Foster Inc.”

“Would you say it’s guaranteed?”

His arm slides around my waist, and my skin erupts in full-body chills when his fingers brush the skin where my shirt has ridden up. “Yes.”

I could lie like this forever, just looking at him. Watching how his eyes subtly move around my face. The way his lips tip up every now and then. How his gold-flecked eyes seem to catch every emotion I feel even when I don’t think I’m showing them. He’s still the boy I fell for as a kid, just with sharper lines, several more inches, and way more muscle.

“I should head out,” I say quietly as if saying it quietly enough will make it not a thing I’m about to do. If I say it quietly, I won’t hear myself, and then I can stay here longer.

Foster manages to roll off the couch gracefully and ends up on his knees. I want him to tell me not to go. That I don’t have to go. But I respect him even more when he stands and reaches down to pull me up. I love him a little bit more for holding my hand as we walk to the door. I appreciate him most when he insists on driving me home rather than letting me call an Uber. I melt when he takes my hand the minute we’re both in the car. And I cherish the soft kiss he drops at the corner of my mouth at my front door.

“More sauce?”

“Night, sunshine,” he says, my hand falling out of his as he backs away.

Standing in the doorway I watch as he slips back into his car, backs out of my driveway, and waves before heading back home. I touch the place his lips had been as I walk into the house, the tension of the evening finally easing as I close the door.

Edwin

Have you seen this?

I click on the image he’s attached to enlarge it and see a pregnancy announcement.

Dr. Gregory Dickson and Ms. Stephanie Norman are pleased to announce they are expecting a baby boy in October. This is the first child for both.

I read the announcement six times before it hits me.

“I don’t want kids, Sophie. I thought I made that crystal clear.”That’s what Gregory had said to me when I showed him the two lines on the test. Except hehad claimed to want kids in the beginning. I remember that very clearly, but my excitement died immediately at his disgust, like I’d done it on purpose, as if I chose not to take my pill that one time. I started to question whether I had thought he had because it’s whatIwanted.

“You’re so fucking stupid sometimes. How hard is it to wake up and take one of those pills every day?” he’d spat at me while practically throwing around papers. I got blamed for that too when he couldn’t find one of the pages that had slid to the floor during his tantrum.

I’d stood there and let him list all the ways I had let him down. Looking back, it’s easy to say I should have walked out right then and there. But at the time I’d been ashamed of letting him down. And as I made an appointment to terminate the pregnancy, I’d told myself that it was for the best. That I wanted Gregory and this life more than I wanted to be a mother. Except I wanted to be a mom, desperately.

I cried alone in the waiting room and felt numb through the procedure. When asked if I had someone at home, I smiled and said yes. But at home, he never even asked how I was. I had convinced myself that it was because he thought it was too hard for me to bring up, so he went on as if nothing had happened. That his silence was for my benefit.

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