Page 92 of Pregnant in Plaid
"You're supposed to be on my side."
"I am on your side. That's why I'm telling you this." She squeezes my hand gently. "Look, I can't tell you what to do. But I can tell you what I see. And what I see is a man who's terrified but trying. Who's stepped up every single day since he found out. Who looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars and possibly also invented indoor plumbing."
Despite everything, I laugh. "That's very specific."
"I'm just saying, the man appreciates you." She bumps my shoulder gently. "And yeah, maybe it's fast. Maybe it's scary. But when has anything worthwhile ever been easy?"
I lean my head on her shoulder. "I hate it when you're wise."
"I know. It's very inconvenient for you."
We sit in silence for a moment. Then she says, "What are you really afraid of?"
The one I've been avoiding since I saw those two pink lines back in August.
"That I'm making a mistake," I whisper. "If I stay, what if it doesn't work? What if I end up trapped here in Alaska with a baby and no job and no way out? But if I go back to Florida..." I swallow hard. "If I go back, I have friends. I have a support system. I have Lauren who already offered to help me get my old job back. I have familiarity. I have?—"
"An escape route."
"Exactly."
"But do you have what you want?"
Before I can answer, Gage clears his throat from across the room. "Sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to check if you needed anything. Food? Water? A mediator?"
"I'm fine," I say.
"She's not fine," Tessa says at the same time.
Gage sighs and comes into the living room, hands shoved in his jeans pockets. He looks tired. Probably because his first week of marriage has been hijacked by his best friend's baby mama drama.
"Sorry," I mutter. "This is probably not how you envisioned your first week of marriage."
"Actually, I envisioned a lotmore naked time and a lot fewer feelings discussions," Gage says dryly. "But SEALs adapt."
"Gage!" Tessa swats at him.
"What? I'm being honest." He crosses his arms. "Look, Patrice. I don't know you that well. But I know Trace. And I know he doesn't do things halfway."
"That's what Tessa said."
"Because it's true." He shifts his weight. "When he's in, he's all in. Always has been. It's one of his best and most annoying qualities."
Despite myself, I smile. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, remember when I told you how we met? Afghanistan?"
I nod.
"Our unit was pinned down. Bad situation. I got hit—nothing fatal, obviously, but I was bleeding out and couldn't move. Trace could've made it to cover. Should've made it to cover. Instead, he came back for me. Carried me half a mile under fire." Gage's jaw tightens. "Could've gotten himself killed. When I asked him why the hell he did it, you know what he said?"
I shake my head.
"He said, 'You're my best friend. That's it. That's the whole reason.' Like it was the most obvious thing in the world." Gage looks at me directly. "So, when I tell you that if he says he loves you, he means it—I'm not guessing. I know."
The weight of his certainty makes my throat tight.
"But he can't make you stay," Gage continues. "That's your choice. Just—" He pauses. "Just make sure you're running toward something, not away from it."
