Page 63
LAST YEAR–END OF APRIL
We sit on the floor of our tiny bathroom, backs to the wall, legs spread out in front of us as we wait for the timer on Tate’s phone to reach three minutes. The plastic-wrapped pregnancy test shakes in my hand.
Tate encircles my wrist, squeezing gently. “It’s okay if it’s negative. This doesn’t always happen first try.”
“No, I know. It’s just crazy that in less than sixty seconds, our lives could change forever.” I turn, our noses almost touching we’re that close. “I’ve been so tired this week, and I don’t know. I feel different. My boobs are a little tender. But it’s fine if it’s not positive.”
That’s what I’ve told myself all week. It’s fine if we’re not pregnant this time, we’ve only been trying a month, and I’m trying my hardest to not get my hopes up, but as the seconds tick by, my heart twinges with hope.
The timer sounds and we share a long, promising look.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Here it goes.”
With painstaking slowness, I pull the test out of the packet and read the words.
“Oh.” I release a slow breath. “That’s…It’s okay. I was so certain I was with these new symptoms. Obviously I was wrong.”
Not pregnant.
I can’t take my eyes off the two words on the digital test. The earlier twinge of hope morphs into a speck of disappointment, and my eyes sting. I sniff to fight off the tears, the pathetic noise echoing through the almost silent bathroom.
My mind betrays my heart as it wanders to the teddy bear sitting on our dresser, visible through the open bathroom door. Last night, I dreamed of a little girl with sandy-blonde hair and eyes the color of the Aegean Sea. She was mischievous, like her father, with a cheeky grin and infectious laugh. Every night I’d tuck her into bed with the teddy clutched tight to her chest.
“God. It’s so stupid to be upset.”
“Hey,” Tate murmurs into my hairline as he puts an arm around my shoulders. “It isn’t stupid. Look at me.” With a finger under my chin, he turns my face so I meet his warm, soft smile. “It’s okay to be disappointed. We can try again whenever you’re ready. It will happen for us, Talia. I can feel it.”
I press my lips together. “I’m sorry for—”
“I don’t know what you’re about to apologize for, but I won’t hear it.” His thumb brushes over my cheek. “I’d be the happiest man on earth if it were just the two of us for the rest of our lives. This,” he takes the test from my hand and places it on the sink, out of sight, “doesn’t change anything about how I feel about you.”
“I love you so much.” I tuck my head between his shoulder and jaw, curling into his side, and ignoring the numbness behind my rib cage.
It will happen.
He presses a kiss to my crown before resting his head there. “I love you. Now, how about we go to the distillery for dinner? My treat.”
I peer up at him. “Don’t you have a call with, what’s his name, Howard, from the record label?”
Tate shrugs. “He can wait until tomorrow. This is more important, and honestly, it’s been a few weeks since the talent scout approached me. I don’t think they’re interested anymore. What do you say to a little date night?”
I chew my lip. “I think I want to stay at home. Maybe we can watch—”
“Lord of the Rings.” He waggles his eyebrows, making me laugh, and the ache in my chest lessens. “Go change into your pajamas, I’ll set it up on the TV and get the snacks.”
He helps me stand and draws me into a tight embrace. I cling to his T-shirt, pressing my face into the soft cotton, and breathing him in. His scent, his presence, is a balm to my slightly bruised heart. “Thank you for always being here.”
His fingers skate up and down my spine in gentle touches. “This is where I’ll always be—at your side.”
YOUR MOTHER’S EYES
And I know, deep in my heart
One day soon, when you enter our lives,
You’ll share your mother’s eyes
Golden like the sunsets over the rolling hills
