Page 27 of The Little Black Rose

Ava: Gwen and Reed?

Me: Yeah. It’s been almost a week since they grew into apples, so they’re probably avocados by now.

Ava: And Gwen and Reed are types of avocados? Did you just search that up to mess with me?

Me: *raised hand emoji* Guilty.

Ava: You’re ridiculous. And they’re fine.

Me: And you?

Ava: I’m fine, too. Hungrier than usual. I ate half a watermelon for breakfast.

Ava: One of the small, round, seedless ones. Not a huge one.

Me: No judgement, here. Glad to hear you’re feeling good.

Ava: I would like to talk to you, though. Can you come by tonight? Around six?

Me: Of course. Do you want me to bring dinner?

Ava: No, I’ve got it covered. See you then.

Me: See you.

* * *

It’s a little after five,and I’m re-reading my text conversation with Avaagain. I’ve read it a dozen times, trying to determine how she might interpret my playfulness. I don’t want her to think I was flirting with her. I wasn’t. But I did want her to see the side of me I rarely show anyone. The side of me Ava knew before my relationship with Samantha.

That I’m not just the guarded, uptight version of myself I present to the world. I’ve upheld that image for so long, it feels weird letting the real me slip through. But I realized that if I want Ava to trust me, to let me live with her and have her really depend upon me, I’m going to have to open up a little. I can do that and still keep the walls up around my heart. Because while nothing romantic can happen between us, I do want her tolikeme. I want to be her friend and partner in this adventure, and that will never happen if I keep her completely shut out like I did until…that night.

Thatnever should’ve happened, but I can’t actually regret it. Not when it created my babies. They are my future. My everything.

I take one last look in the mirror as I run my fingers through my hair before heading out. My stomach churns with anxiety as I drive toward Ava’s, and I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. She could say she’s decided against my moving in. Or she could have something completely unrelated she wants to talk about, and she hasn’t decided, yet.

I pull into her driveway and kill the engine, then check my reflection in the rearview mirror. I smile, showing lots of teeth, then grimace. I look like a fucking maniac. I try again, this time keeping my lips pressed together. Better.

“Stop acting like this is a first date, or something,” I mumble under my breath as I climb from the car.

Ava has known me for more than half my life. She’s seen all my smiles. All my frowns. And everything in between.

I rap my knuckles against the door, and she swings it open with a small smile. My eyes travel down to her abdomen, and I swear it looks a little more rounded beneath those tight black leggings. The sight makes my chest tight with emotion.

“Hey. Come on in,” she says, stepping aside so I can enter.

My gaze flits back up to meet hers, and I give her the closed-mouth smile as I pass by. She closes the door, and I see her shoulders lift and fall as she inhales deeply and releases the breath before turning to face me.

“I ordered a pizza. It should be here, soon,” she says, walking past me with a little wave for me to follow. “Would you like a drink? I have some white wine, and there’s a couple of beers in the fridge.”

“Water is fine,” I reply, and she grabs a bottle from the refrigerator and hands it to me.

I look around the kitchen as I screw off the top and take a sip. The appliances are stainless steel, the counters topped in sleek, charcoal gray granite. She seems to have every appliance imaginable, including a fancy table mixer that looks to be restaurant-grade quality.

“You like to cook?” I ask, breaking the silence.

“Not really,” she says, her cheeks darkening a bit. “This was my mom’s domain, and she never got around to teaching me before she passed away. I couldn’t bear to part with any of this stuff even though I have no clue how to use it. I can still see her in here, humming as she cooked and baked.”

I nod when she finishes, feeling a bit awkward. Her parents died in a car accident more than a decade ago, and I know it was hard on her when they passed so suddenly. I can see the wistfulness in her eyes as she looks around, and I feel the need to say…something.

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