Page 12 of Abstract Passion

I twist my hands in my lap beneath the table and ask myself the same question for the hundredth time since learning Shelly was pregnant.How soon is too soon to live together?Dr. Prince said there are no written guides to dictate when couples take the next step. Only we determine our time line. Our future.

My shoulders rise and fall. “It doesn’t feel wrong.”

Wanting Shelly in every aspect of my life has never felt soright. Is moving in together after dating three months a premature decision? Probably. Considering I let no one in for four years after Kelsey, this change may be deemed irrational and foolish and swift. A decision made in the heat of the moment. An open invitation to doom our relationship.

But I don’t care what other people think. I only care what Shelly thinks. What she wants.

“Can I think about it?”

Every joy-filled cell in my body plummets. Wilts. Turns cold. “Yeah. Sure. Of course.”

What else can I say? Shelly is her own person. Makes her own decisions. I need to let her make this decision as well. Having a baby together doesn’t automatically equal cohabitation. It doesn’t mean our romantic relationship will last forever.

But I want it all with her.

Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that she loves me and I love her. Her asking for time to make a decision is better than her shooting the idea down immediately. Not like I haven’t mulled over the idea for days. Only fair that I let her do the same.

She could’ve said no and walked out the door. Give her time.

After a beat of silence, she picks up her fork and I mimic the action. We eat dinner in companionable silence for a few bites. In my periphery, she sips her water, then gingerly sets down the glass. Her fingertips swirl over condensation droplets, her eyes zeroed in on the action.

“While I consider the idea of moving in” —I lock onto her mesmerizing eyes and stop chewing— “will you think about meeting my parents?”

The bite of chicken in my mouth lodges in my throat. I smack my chest and cough violently. My face and neck and chest go hot as I attempt to dislodge the food from the wrong pipe.

“Oh god.”

Shelly evacuates her chair and dashes to my side.Whack.Her palm smacks between my shoulder blades with force.Whack. Whack.I cough harder and the food clears my windpipe.

“Are you okay?”

I nod as my lungs burn and beg for air. Grabbing her hand, I bring it to my lips and kiss her between coughs. “I’m—”Cough, cough.“Fine.” Tears spill down my cheeks as I hold up a finger, asking her to give me a moment.

Her hand rubs small circles between my shoulder blades. The gentle motion calming, soothing. And soon, my lungs settle. My throat stills. I take a sip of water. Then another.

“Better?”

I nod. “Yeah.” My voice like froggy sandpaper. I swallow a bigger gulp of water. “Much.”

Shelly settles back in her chair and shakes her head. “I seem to have a talent for saying things at the wrong time.” I cock my head as my brows scrunch together. “When I told Cora and Elizabeth I was pregnant, they both nearly choked on their lunch.” She rolls her eyes and laughs under her breath. “Really should work onwhento say certain things.”

Setting my glass down, I lay a hand on the table, palm up. She places hers atop mine and I sigh.

My skin warms and tingles at the point of contact. Our connection a live wire. Buzzing. Sparking. White hot and a constant burst of light.

The pulse never dulls. The magnitude never fades or shrinks. If anything, what I feel for Shelly, the connection we share, it continually expands. Like the birth of a new galaxy. Mighty and endless.

This… her hand in mine… this is all I need.

“It’s okay. Maybe next time, ease into it.” We laugh until the reason I started choking circles back. “I’d love to meet your parents, Shelly. Whenever you’re ready. Wish mine were worth meeting,” I say with a hint of solemnity.

Shelly squeezes my hand and my eyes dart to hers. “Me too.”

We finish dinner and talk about the first of many visits to the doctor’s office. After I clear the table, Shelly and I snuggle on the couch and watch television. Her head on my shoulder, it isn’t long before she falls asleep and I carry her to bed.

As she sleeps in my arms, I lie in the dark and mentally paint a picture of what our life will be like. When the baby comes and the years that follow.

I see it all so clearly. As if it already exists, but I have yet to live it.

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