A Baby Affair (Parent Portal 2)

Was there some other therapy she could try?

Wasn’t the love more important than where they shared it?

She’d done a real number on herself with this one. Had no clear way out. And all she knew was to continue to move forward. Take the next step. And then the next.

When she had to say goodbye to him, at least as a weekly occurrence in her life, a way would be made known to her.

They finished that Tuesday’s ride in near-silence. Neither of them brought up anything about the night before, good or bad. As she handed over the bike to Craig, Amelia tried to catch his eye, but only once. Briefly. She didn’t succeed and didn’t try again.

“What time Thursday?

” she asked him.

He suggested they meet at five in the parking lot closest to her building—since they were starting later than usual. She’d have agreed to meeting on a mountaintop if he’d suggested it. Nodding, she waited until the bikes were secure and, when he turned, his biceps bulging, she told him good night.

Hard to believe that the night before she’d been lying naked in her bed with those arms wrapped around her. Hard not to be hurt by his abrupt departure and subsequent behavior.

Harder still to convince herself that she wouldn’t do it all again.

* * *

Craig went to Thursday’s bike ride ready to have “the talk.” The “we need to talk” kind. Enough was enough.

He’d started this whole thing—spending time together while trying to avoid building some kind of relationship. Time that was designed to remain completely impersonal as far as the two of them were concerned. Hard to remember exactly why he’d thought it a good idea. Or even how he’d thought it could work.

Sometime over the past two days he’d reached the conclusion that they’d need to discuss their situation instead of ride. Still, he had the bikes on top of his SUV when he pulled into the lot, surprised to see Amelia already there.

That couldn’t be good. She’d never been early by more than five minutes before, and it was a good ten before their designated time.

“We need to talk,” she said, standing not far from his car. “I was thinking maybe we walk instead of ride? Or ride and then walk?” She glanced up at the bikes.

“Let’s do that,” he said, reaching for his bike. “Ride, then walk.” He harrumphed as he unhooked the bike and lifted it down. Him thinking they needed to talk was one thing. He could control his own imagined outcome.

But who knew what ideas she had in her head? He couldn’t control Amelia’s thoughts.

He needed some bike time to prepare to hear them.

Half a block down the road, he slowed, waiting on the quiet neighborhood street for her to catch up with him. Most homes had lights on. A lot had cars in the driveways. None had kids outside. It was dinnertime.

“Look, if you’re regretting Monday, don’t. It happened. We can get by it,” he said.

“I wasn’t regretting Monday.” She didn’t look at him. He knew. He’d glanced at her. Slowed even further, lifting up straighter with only one hand on the handlebar. “Unless you are, I guess. If it was wrong for you, then I regret it.”

“No!” he blurted like an imbecile into the street. “I don’t regret it. Other than it seems to have cramped our style some.”

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She looked at him then, but he couldn’t read the expression in her eyes. Whether she’d purposely worn her helmet lower, or it had slid down, he didn’t know, but he didn’t like how it shadowed her face and hid the things he needed to know. “So...you have no regrets? It was good for you, too?”

That “too” about had him almost falling off his bike. “Yeah.” There was an embarrassing wealth of weight in the one word.

She nodded. Pedaled.

That was it?

She had nothing more to say? Just needed to know that he’d enjoyed himself in her bed? So like her to tend to his pleasure. And so damned infuriating, too.

But he couldn’t really be angry with her, especially not since he’d left her bed without even staying to say goodbye the morning after. Amelia was playing by rules he’d agreed to. Rules he’d helped establish. She was keeping them on a track upon which they could both ride.

He could get off at any time. He was the one who’d pushed his way in. The choice was all his.