Mom: Aiden and Shelli had their ultrasound today, and there might be a birth defect. They have to go back tomorrow to see a specialist, so keep them in your thoughts and maybe send Aiden a text.
Me: Oh my goodness. Will do.
Mom: Love you.
Me: Love you.
I go to Aiden’s text thread and send him a quick message that I love him and I’m sure the baby is fine.
He doesn’t text me back, but then Wes gets off the phone, giving me a worried look. I nod. “My mom texted me.”
“That sucks. I hope the baby is okay.”
“Me too, or at least that it’s a defect that is treatable or adaptable.”
“Absolutely,” he says, shaking his head. “But yeah, he was canceling our lunch tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay.”
“So, we might not be able to go to the gender reveal as boyfriend and girlfriend.”
I shrug. “I mean, we can, just without Aiden knowing.”
He grimaces. “I really hate hiding it from him. I feel like it’s only making it worse.”
“Yeah. I would suggest we FaceTime him, but he’s going through a lot.”
“True. Though, that way could be safer.”
“It could.”
We share a smile, and he brings my hands up to his lips. “Maybe I’m reading into this, but are you agreeing to be my girlfriend, stupendous Stella?”
I snort with laughter, my whole body shaking. “I don’t know now with all these dorky nicknames.”
He laughs against my hands, kissing me between his chuckles. “You love it.”
I do. “Maybe.”
“Admit it.”
“Never.”
“I know it’s true.”
“I know that it’s true you’re a dork.”
“That too. But you always hold your breath, waiting for me to call you something.”
“I do not!”
“You do,” he teases, kissing me once more.
“Whatever,” I tease back, my lashes brushing my cheeks. “But maybe we should wait for labels, but just know that if the other one gets with anyone else, we will truly hurt them. Once Aiden knows, we can put a label on it.”
He nods slowly. “I completely agree with that.”
“Good.”
His eyes hold mine, and they’re dark and intense. “Listen, I know I haven’t told you a lot, and I know you have questions, but trust me, I plan on telling you. I just have to figure out how.”
“Confidently?” I offer, just like he did to me.
“Yeah. I’m not there yet.”
“That’s okay,” I say instantly. “Really. I’m here.”
He gives me a soft smile. “That means a lot to me, and I definitely don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know you don’t, and I trust you, Wes. I do.” He doesn’t seem convinced, and I really want to hit that therapist with my car. She messed with my guy’s confidence, and I don’t like that. “I don’t care what she says, Wes. I trust you. I know you don’t want to hurt me.”
“I really don’t,” he says softly. “But I’ve been through some shit, and I’m still healing.”
He isn’t looking at me; I don’t know if he can. I knew something was up this morning. I’m not saying he texts and calls at every turn, but he always beats me when it comes to texting someone first. He also doesn’t do one-word texts, which was a huge sign for me too. But seeing him… Yeah, he is attentive and sweet and kind, but his eyes aren’t right. They are always full of light and excitement when he sees me, even before we started this. But I knew from the jump tonight that he wasn’t okay.
I hate that he is hurting. I hate that someone got in his head and made him doubt himself. Without much thought, I get up, coming around the table, much to his surprise. I sit down in his lap, and he wraps his arms around my waist as I wrap mine around his neck. “Is this okay?”
He holds me close, stroking right along my butt and the small of my back, but I can tell he’s confused. “Yeah?”
“My love language is touch, so when I’m feeling a certain way, or I get worried, I like to touch. So, you’ve got to tell me if that’s not okay.”
“It’s fine.”
“Awesome. Wes, let me help heal with you. I know this is new, but I know what I am feeling, and you’ve got me feeling things I’ve never felt before. I already worry about you. I already think of you before I go to sleep and when I wake up. I trust you, Wes. I do. So, trust me and know I am listening when you speak. And above all else, I am always, always here.”
He looks up at me, and the emotion is clear in his eyes. He rubs my back, squeezing my thigh as he kisses my jaw. When he leans back, his eyes burn into mine. “One of the nonsexual things about you that turns me on is how passionate you are about the people you love.”