We agree to meet in a few days to brainstorm how to set my plans in motion. I drop the prescription off at the pharmacy, and they tell me it will be twenty minutes. While waiting, I wander through the store. I grab a bag of peanut M&M's which are Winnie's favorite and find myself standing in the baby aisle. It's a little overwhelming, but a smile still tilts my lips when I think of our baby. Slowly, I make my way down the aisle, taking it all in when something catches my eyes. The tag claims it's a onesie, but I'm not worried about what it is as much as what it says. “If you think I'm cute, you should see my mommy.” I can't wait to see her face when I give it to her.
When I get back to the house, Gabby's car is still in the driveway. I find the two of them curled up on the couch watching reruns of Grey's Anatomy.
“I thought you went for my prescription?” Winnie asks when she sees the bag I'm holding.
“Yeah, I picked up a few things.” I hand the bag over. I watch her closely as she reaches in and pulls out the M&M's.
She smiles up at me. “Thank you.” She sets them to the side and pulls out the white pharmacy bag that holds her prescription. That too gets set aside. The next item she pulls out of the bag is a book. “What To Expect When You’re Expecting.” She reads the title.
“Yeah, that one's kind of for both of us. Probably more me, since I thought I should learn.” I shrug.
“What's this?” She pulls the tiny outfit out of the bag. I watch as she reads what it says. “Harrison,” she says breathily.
“It's black and white, so it's good for a girl or a boy, right?”
“It's perfect.”
“Let me see." Gabby leans over to read what it says. “Aww,” she coos. “You did good, Daddy.”
My heart stutters in my chest.
I'm going to be a daddy.
Chapter 8
Winnie
* * *
He’s driving me crazy.
Just a few hours into his self-imposed move-in, and he’s completely making me insane. Sundays are usually spent catching up on laundry, grocery shopping, and getting my week ready for school. But not today. Today, I’m being held prisoner by my ex-husband, who won’t let me move a muscle from the couch. Is it bad? No. I know he’s doing what he thinks I need, but not letting me walk to the bathroom to pee is a little overboard, ya know?
I’m four episodes into a Friends marathon when I start to slide my feet out from under me. “Where are you going?” Harrison asks, glancing up from the book he’s reading in the chair. He has a pair of readers perched on his nose, something that’s new since our time together. A ping of longing slides through my body, and I can’t help but wonder what else I’ve missed over these last several months.
“When did you start wearing cheater glasses?” I ask, ignoring his questions and asking my own.
He dog-ears the page he’s reading, and I can’t help but gasp. “What?” he asks, his entire body filling with tension as he starts to move in my direction. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Do you hurt? Is it the baby?”
Rolling my eyes, I reply, “I’m fine. Or at least I am physically. I think you just crushed a piece of my heart when you bent that page over.”
Harrison glances down at the book he haphazardly tossed on the end table. “Shit, sorry. I forgot you hate that.”
"You’re a monster," I tease, fighting the grin that wants to slip out.
He glances my way and smiles. "A monster, huh?"
"What’d that book ever do to you?"
"That book didn’t do anything to me, except maybe offer up a little too much information about birthing the placenta," he says, shivering with disgust as he takes his glasses off and runs his hand down the side of his face.
I slide off the couch, and his eyes are on me like laser beams. "I’m okay, you know. I don’t need to be held hostage on the couch."
"I’m just trying to keep you both safe."
I crouch down in front of him, noticing the moment his eyes start to dilate. "I know that, and I appreciate it, but sitting on my ass for hours on end isn’t doing anything to help me."
"You heard the doctor. He said to take it easy."
"Easy, yes, but captive, no. I’m okay, Harrison. A little rest is a good thing, but I need to be able to get up and get a drink," I say until I’m interrupted.
"I’ll get you a drink."
"But I’m perfectly capable of getting my own," I inform him, holding his gaze and watching the internal battle play out. I know he just wants to help, and I’m certain he thinks he’s protecting both our baby and me, but it’s too much. It’s only been a few hours and it’s already driving me bananas.
His shoulders sag in defeat. "Okay, I get it, but that doesn’t mean I like it," he concedes.
I offer him a small smile. "I understand your position, and I appreciate your help, but I’m perfectly capable of walking down the hall to use the restroom."
He tenses and stares down at me. "I didn’t want you to trip."
"I’ve never tripped over the bathroom rug before," I gently say.
"But there’s a first time for everything. All it would take is one time for you to trip, and I’d never forgive myself. We should just get rid of it. All of the rugs, actually. They’re a trip hazard, and—"
"Harrison." I grab his hands and give them a squeeze. "The rugs stay."
Again, his shoulders sag. "Fine."
I can’t help but smile. It’s a small battle, but I feel like I just won the war. Harrison has always been overly protective of me, and I wouldn’t expect him to change now that I’m pregnant. However, that doesn’t mean I’m going to remove all my rugs or start drinking organic milk just because he thinks it’s better for the baby and me.
"To answer your question, I went to the eye doctor about a month ago and he suggested I wear cheaters. My vision for distance is fine, but when I’m reading, the words were a little blurry. It was just a small change, but it was enough to bug the shit out of me," he informs me.
"You’re not even thirty," I remind him, though it’s a moot point. I’m pretty sure he knows how old he is, which is a mere two months younger than me.
"I’m aware," he says with a small grin, but it’s replaced quickly with seriousness. "I’m sorry your birthday was ruined yesterday."
I think back on the entire day, from the party to the accident, resulting in a hospital stay. "I don’t really think it was ruined," I start. "It wasn’t exactly a great way to celebrate my thirtieth, but the end result was pretty fantastic," I add, meaning the baby.
His eyes brighten with excitement. "Yeah, that’s probably the best shocking news I’ve ever received," he says before sobering again. "I’m sorry I wasn’t there."
A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe. "Why would you have been?"
"Because I vowed that I always would be."
My eyes burn as I stare at the man I was married to. "Sometimes things change. People change."
"Sometimes they make mistakes and realize it when it’s too late, but vow to make it right. I will make it right, Winnie," he whispers, my name a plea on his lips. I’ve always loved the personal nickname he gave me from when we first met. No one else calls me Winnie. Only Harrison.
I don’t know what to say. It’s not as cut and dried as he thinks, but I’m not completely against the idea either. The truth is: I love him. I’ve always loved him. From the first moment I saw him in the library, I knew he was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. He was the one my heart would always yearn for. But somewhere along the way, we lost our way. We let work and lack of communication drive a wedge between us. I’m still not sure if we can get back what we once had, but I’m willing to try.
"Put the glasses back on," I state, changing the subject.
He gives me an odd look but does what I ask—though it
was more of a statement than a question. Harrison doesn’t move as I bring my hands up to his face. His strong jaw is tight with tension as I cup it and stroke the coarse skin. There’s a definite five o’clock shadow, something I’ve always loved. I can feel his eyes blaze with fire as he watches me. I don’t make eye contact, instead keeping my eyes locked on my hands. I slide them up his cheeks and hear his breathing hitch.
Using my pointer fingers, I straighten the dark plastic glasses on his face. "I like these," I whisper.
"Yeah?" His voice is hoarse and gravelly.
Instead of speaking words, I nod and make eye contact for the first time. My heart hammers in my chest as our eyes remain locked. A whole slew of emotions and memories flood my mind, some good and some bad. They weren’t all the latter, though. Until right before the separation, there were far more of the good ones than the bad.
Harrison turns his face, kissing the inside of my palm. “I’ll wear them all the time if you’d like.”
A small smile plays on my lips. “That’s not necessary, but I wanted you to know how handsome you look.”
“More than just a gym rat?” he teases.
“You were never just a gym rat, but they do make you look more distinguished. Very debonair.”
Now he snorts a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve been called debonair a day in my life,” he adds, taking my hands in his and bringing them to his chest.
“That’s a shame,” I tell him, loving the way my heart beats a heavy pattern in my chest. It reminds me of that first time I saw him, and the next several times we talked. With our busy school schedules, we actually talked on the phone for an entire week before our first date. Those days were filled with short conversations between classes and text updates while studying. I looked forward to our communications, and craved those late-night talk sessions.
“Have you called your boss yet?” he asks, interrupting my walk down memory lane.
“Uhh, no, not yet. I was going to send her an email later. I need to line up a sub for Monday.”