“Yes, that was my promise to you.”
“I really don’t know what the future holds for Clay and me, but I want peace between us because this baby deserves that.” I put my hand on my belly.
My parents watch the gesture, and the smiles grow on their faces.
My mom looks up at me, and our eyes connect.
“Abby, honey, can you show us a picture of the ultrasound?” she asks, and my smile doubles.
“Of course, Mom. I would love to.”
I make my way to my purse and rush back to show them all the images we got that day at Dr. Amri’s office.
I sit between my parents, and the way they gush at the images makes my heart grow. It feels a little more real knowing I get to see them in this role as grandparents in the months ahead.
CHAPTER 18
Clay
It’s an exceptionallywarm day in Boston, and spring isn’t officially here yet. This jog is exactly what I needed as I shed yet another layer after the meal I had with Abby’s family last weekend.
I came off a long week of shifts, so I was itching for a run, and today, the sun is shining. I didn’t hesitate to put my running shoes on and hit the pavement when I looked outside this morning.
Rios was exhausted and bailed on our run, something he’s been doing more of recently since things with him and Malloy are hot and cold lately. But I’m also in my own world now that I’m coming to terms with the fact I’m going to be a father. I can’t get over how smoothly everything went with Mr. and Mrs. Morris, especially Collette.
When I was clearing everyone’s plate, she came up to me and surprised me with a huge hug and took the time to clear the air. Abby and her father went on a walk around the water while Collette spent nearly an hour talking about her first marriage and all she struggled with raising Frankie on her own before marrying Rick.
Then she apologized for the years of hardship she put me through. She had treated me unfairly, and although it doesn’t make up for all that time, it sheds some light on the why behind her behavior.
It doesn’t hurt that I got a good laugh from hearing that River nearly got a beating when Rick thought he was me. I sort of wish I was there to see that disaster unfold.
I think, overall, it was a successful visit with Collette and Rick. I’m glad they saw Abby, and we were able to tell them about the baby. I think having them here was good for Abby, and I think she shed a bit of her nerves as well. I can see she felt relieved after they went home too.
But it doesn’t mean I’m not slightly irritated still. As much as we got to smooth things over with her parents, and I hopefully got a fresh start with Collette, I’m no closer to figuring things out with Abby. I still feel like we’re in the exact same place when it comes to our stance on our living situation. She wants to keep us on our sides of the fence, so to speak.
Honestly, I want things back with Abby, but she’s hell-bent on keeping things the way they are—in this damn friendship corner she’s built for us. We’re having a fucking baby together, and we’re not in relationships with anyone else. I mean, I still love her, and I can guarantee she still loves me.
If only I could find a way to prove that point because, at the moment, I’m only theorizing. But I see the way she holds her gaze on me a little too long when I walk by or the smoldering look she hits me with sometimes when I bend over, and I swear she wants me to kiss her when I’m about to leave.
I’m jogging up the steps to my apartment when my cell phone starts to ring through my headphones. I’m panting from exerting myself on the run, pushing the extra mile because my frustration has been getting to me lately. I pull my phone out to see Abby’s name flashing across my screen.
“Hey,” I answer, trying to minimize my heavy breathing.
“Hi, Clay. Sorry to bother you. Did I catch you at a bad time?” she asks, sounding somewhat regretful that she is inconveniencing me with a call.
“I’m just getting back from a run.” I get into my lobby and start to walk up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.
“Oh, shoot, I can let you go,” she says, and I can bet she’s gnawing on her bottom lip.
“Abby, what’s wrong? Is there something wrong with the baby?” I’m about to turn around and make my way over to her.
“No, no, nothing like that. I just, ugh, I’m sorry. I just, I can’t get my damn washer to work. And I have a whole load in there, and it’s already wet, and I just need this to work.” She sniffles.
“Are you crying?” I ask.
“Yes, Clay! I’m fucking hormonal, okay? I really wanted to do laundry today, and now I can’t. And my day is ruined! You don’t understand!” she whines, and I’m really doing everything in my power not to laugh.
“Okay. Give me a few minutes to get cleaned up, and I’m headed over,” I say.