Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
A genuine chuckle fills the space between us as he’s given his drink.
“Touché, Kat,” he says, accepting it and thanking the barista.
I mouth thanks to her as she turns. She’s sweet and young, but I don’t miss how her gaze trails to my ring finger, then to his. She keeps her smile in place, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
My heart stutters and I wish I’d taken my wedding ring off. I wish I could solidify the separation as easily as Evan walked out on me.
“You okay?” Jake asks and grabs my attention again.
“Yeah.” I force a smile to my lips. The singular word was spoken tightly, so I pick up the tea to take a sip.
I clear my throat and try to shake off the unwanted feelings. “Do you want a muffin?” I ask him absently. “Or a cookie?”
I read last night about all the foods you should and shouldn’t eat when you’re pregnant. Oatmeal seems to be a winner, so the thought of having an oatmeal raisin cookie or two sounds like a win to me.
“A cookie?” Jake smirks and I almost tell him why. But I don’t. I gesture to the display cases; I can’t be the only one who smells all the baked goods.
“You got the drinks, let me get the snacks.”
“Oatmeal raisin?” I ask him and he nods with another smirk before tapping on the table and making his way to the counter.
I stare down at my not-so-big-yet belly and feel slightly guilty. An onlooker may think I look bloated. There’s zero evidence I’m pregnant at all. Other than the box of pregnancy tests. I’ve taken four of them now, just to make sure the pink line turns darker each time.
At least I’m not crying and wallowing in despair. I’m simply crazy with worry. My hand gently rubs my belly.
“At least I have you,” I whisper in a sweet, sorrowful voice as I rest my hand on my lower belly. I want a doctor to tell me it’s real. That I really do get to have a baby. This little one who will love me, and I can love them back and give them every part of me.
As I take another sip of the tea, watching Jake at the counter, I start to think that maybe it was supposed to be this way. Maybe I don’t have enough in me to love both a child and my husband. God must’ve known it and that’s why Evan left me.
I nod my head before pulling the mug back to my lips quickly to hide my face from Jake. There’s a reason for everything, isn’t there?
He sits down slowly, and I know he saw; I can see it in his eyes.
“Sorry,” I say and shrug. “I read this manuscript earlier and it shredded me,” I lie.
He hands me my cookie and I feel foolish for a moment, but then he says, “Really?”
I nod like a fool.
“You want to talk about it?” he asks, and I get the impression that I could tell him anything. I think I could tell him the truth right now and he’d know it’s exactly that. I could spill my guts to him and say it’s all something I read in a book. And he’d let me. He’d give me that bit of kindness.
I’m so grateful for it.
But I’m not ready.
I shake my head, my hair spilling over my shoulders as I do. “Maybe another time.”
He nods, peeling back his muffin wrapper enough so he can take a bite. “Good thinking,” he says after he swallows. “Very good call on the muffin.”
My shoulders rock gently with another small laugh as I take a bite of my cookie, once again feeling the ease that Jake gives me.
“It’s okay to not be okay, do you know that?” he asks me.
I snicker and pick at the cookie.
“You can roll your eyes and laugh, but it’s true,” he says as he peels at the wrapper, exposing more of the treat as he talks.
“If I’m not okay, though, that means I need to talk about it.” I point my finger at him and pick off another small piece of the cookie. “And I don’t want to,” I say smartly and pop the bit into my mouth.
“Nah, you can be not okay, but talk about something else instead. That’s a thing, you know?”
“How’s that?”
“It’s okay to let something bother you, that’s all I mean.”
“You authors speak in code, do you know that?” I use his phrase right back at him.
Now he’s the one who laughs. “Well, I guess what I’m saying is that I’m not really okay. I’m sort of running from my own problems. But now I’m okay, ’cause I’m here.”
“Here in New York?”
“Just here,” he says and gives me a small smile, but I read the real answer in his expression. Here with you.