How can one person go from being all but a nonfactor in your life one moment, to carving out the center of it in the next?
It’s not like I haven’t seen Novy. We both see him all the goddamn time. I skate with him. We workout together. We still share a bench in the dressing room. He sits in my row on the plane. He sits behind me on the bus. He’s fucking everywhere.
I’m not the goddamn ghost.Heis. He’s haunting me, haunting my life…the life we could have shared. Does he miss us? Is he hurting like we are? Will he ever come back?
I watch him as best I can. He’s smiling and laughing, putting on a good show. But he’s not chirping. He’s not pulling pranks. He’s like Novy in 2D. An artist’s abstract interpretation of Lukas Novikov. This version lacks all vibrancy, all the color and life that made him so goddamn obnoxious…and likable.
Hell, who am I kidding? He’s lovable. I don’t know how he did it, but that shitty little prank-loving, French fry-eating asshole has wormed his way into my life and into my heart. I love him. As a friend, as a partner. I love what we had together. I love how he loved Poppy. God, he can make her laugh like nothing else.
I mean, I can tell a joke too. But Nov gets this glint in his eye, like he’s reeling you in. He knows when he has you hooked. You can see it in the subtle curl of his mouth. Then, when he lands the punchline, and you laugh, his eyes flash with a secret. He locks each laugh away, like he knows something essential about you.
Watching him do it to Poppy is intoxicating.
“Colton? Honey, you okay?” I glance down to see Poppy, the doctor, and the nurse all looking up at me.
My heart starts racing. “I…don’t—”
No, I’m not fucking okay.
Shit, am I having a panic attack?
“Could you give us a minute?” Poppy says, sitting up on the exam table.
The others clear out, and I finally suck in a shaky breath. “Ohhh fuck.”
Poppy keeps hold of my hand, her other rubbing up and down my arm. “Honey, it’s okay.”
“Fuck—no, I’m sorry,” I say on a breath. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” comes her soft voice. “Neither of us is fine.”
I shake my head, looking back up to the monitor, where the image of our baby is still frozen. “He’s missing so much, and I’m just…I’m so fucking frustrated.”
“Hewantsto miss it,” she says gently.
“Oh, and you fucking believe him? You really think he’s happy without us?”
She just shrugs, tears in her eyes. “It’s not about whether he’s happy. He doesn’t want children, Colton. He’s made that clear, and we have to respect it. As much as I love him, I would never push a child on someone who didn’t want one with their whole heart. We can love him, and miss him, and wish him well.”
“It’s fucking killing me,” I admit.
It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud, even to myself. I’ve been trying so hard to just keep it together, keep us moving forward.
She’s quiet for a moment. “Have you talked to him about it?”
I glance down at her. “About the baby?”
“About any of it.”
I shake my head. “No. Not since he left.”
He never even came back for his stuff. It’s all still just shut up in the guest room like a fucking time capsule. I’ve all but moved myself into Poppy’s apartment, but I go back occasionally for clothes and random crap. Seeing that door closed in my face makes it feel like it’s a vault I can’t access.
“If you’re this upset, maybe you should talk to him,” she offers.
I glance down at her again. “And you’re not upset? Are you over it then? Have you suddenly moved on without telling me?”
She blinks back her tears. “Please don’t be mean. You know I haven’t.”