Page 28 of Written in the Charts

“I’m really sorry for hurting you. I didn’t tell you at first because I was afraid and because it had been so long. Then the longer I waited, the more I felt guilty for not telling you.”

I hugged her tightly to my body. “Hey, listen. It’s water under the bridge.”

“It’s just that you got so angry. I wasn’t sure why. I just wanted to apologize again.” Her lip trembled as she spoke. It made me feel badly for upsetting her like I had.

“Gypsy, the reason I got so upset was because of things that happened before I came back here.” I felt the storm brewing just thinking about Misty. It wasn’t something I wanted to go into great detail about, so I kept things as vague as possible to protect Gypsy from any outburst that might happen.

“She was very manipulative and lied to me about some very important things.” I felt her tense in my arms, and I calmed my voice. “I got hurt really bad, so I’m just feeling guarded. I’m sorry.”

“She cheated on you?” Gypsy ran her fingers through my hair again, then cradled my face, drawing her thumb over my cheekbone. “You can tell me.”

I nodded, unable to say the words without lashing out. The pain was still too fresh, and Gypsy didn’t deserve the tongue lashing I’d given Peter or Derek, or the attitude I gave off to everyone else, including my best friend, Serah.

“Oh, Evan. I won’t ever hurt you like that. You have to believe me. I’m not like that.” Her eyes told me she wasn’t lying. If only I could fully let my heart believe that. One day, it would come—that feeling of trusting someone with your heart. For now, I’d have to settle for the feeling of holding her. I was exhausted.

“I love you, Gypsy.”

“I love you too, Evan...” She yawned, her words dragging out. “I’m tired. Hold me to sleep?”

She turned on her side, and I spooned her. I lay awake thinking of all the fun times we had as kids and decided that we would have to take a trip to a few of the local dives before I took her home. As a teen, I had lived in Syracuse, but after graduating high school, I attended the community college in Evansville with a few of my buddies. That’s where my love affair with Gypsy really took off.

She was in high school, and I had just graduated, doing my thing. We spent Friday nights at the football games or going to movies. And all weekend, we would find new exciting adventures to embark on, once sneaking into a wedding and crashing it. We stole a bottle of champagne and had cake, then danced like no one was watching. It was a great night. What I wouldn’t have done to go relive those moments and forget about the pain of my dad’s death, my service injury, and Misty.

“Gypsy?” I whispered to her, but she was already sleeping. I wanted to ask if she wanted to adventure with me again the way we used to.

Holding her felt right, like it was finally where I belonged. I never wanted it to end. I resolved right then to marry this woman if it was the last thing I did. Christmas was coming soon, and it would be a good time to surprise her. Maybe I’d plan a romantic proposal and whisk her off her feet.

I fell asleep trying to think of the best way possible to make her mine. It had to be spectacular.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Gypsy

I chewed my nail until my finger bled, pacing my living room and waiting for Maggie. My 9-1-1 call to her for emotional support was my last-ditch attempt to stave off a full-blown panic attack. She was on the way to help me, but still, my mind wouldn’t calm down. It had been growing worse every day this week, but yesterday when I woke and felt sick to my stomach, I started to realize something was really off. Cameron had helped me study, which had been a great distraction—our first Saturday study session—but the minute we were finished, my mind wandered right back to my worries.

My period was late.

I calculated the days since my last period, and I was three weeks late. I knew it was off a little. The past several months had been sporadic anyway, what with the stress of classes and working two jobs. But I’d never gone three weeks late before, which would have been more concerning had I not been having unprotected sex. At least the worst-case scenario was an unplanned pregnancy and not something horrible or life-ending.

Maggie didn’t even bother knocking. She pushed the door open and set Jenson’s car seat in first, Isla on her hip. Her furrowed brow told me she was struggling with the kids, so I hurried over and took Jenson’s seat, carrying him deeper into the apartment where it was warmer, and Maggie shut the door.

“Is it miserable out? Oh, my God, thank you for coming. I’m so sorry you had to come out with the twins in this mess.” I had seen the light snow falling, lake effect snow, not a bad storm, but still, it made for a messy commute.

“It’s okay. I’m a New York girl, born and raised. I am always prepared.” She set Isla down on the couch while she took her coat off, handing me a brown paper bag. “Here it is.” She sighed.

I took the bag with trembling hands. I had asked her to buy a pregnancy test for me. As my best friend, she was the only one I trusted with this news, not even Derek, her husband, an obstetrician. The bag weighed a thousand pounds, or maybe that was my anxiety playing up. I was eighteen all over again, terrified of a pregnancy that might bring shame or rejection. When I’d done the test back then, I was petrified that my father would be angry—or worse, Evan. And now, given what had happened only weeks ago, I was fearful all over again.

“It’s going to be fine,” Maggie said, resting her hand on mine. She offered a pursed smile and a pat to the hand. “It’s better to just get it over with. Rip that bandage off. You can’t start reacting until you know one way or the other, and you’ll kill yourself with the worry if you just keep waiting.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure I was ready yet. Maggie hung her coat on the coat tree by the door and picked up Isla to take her coat off. Watching their interactions made me want a baby so badly at times. I would sit and think of Chloe and how I would have loved being her mom. But now, something different washed over me when I thought of it. I thought of losing her, the emotional pain, and the grieving I did, watching her tiny coffin be lowered into the ground.

I blinked back tears and turned for the bathroom, not letting Maggie see me cry. I’d cried enough over Chloe. Why was I crying now? The grieving had ended years ago, or so I thought.

“I’ll be right out.”

Shutting myself into the bathroom, I opened the bag and pulled out the test. I didn’t even bother reading the packaging. I just tore open the box and pulled the plastic wand out. It was pretty simple after that—pee on a stick, wait for the results to process. But I couldn’t stand there waiting alone. I washed my hands and left the stick lying on the sink, finding Maggie’s company more comforting.

“Did you do it?” Her eyes popped up when I entered the living room.

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