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“Shhhhh. Just be quiet,” she murmurs, reaching for my hand. “I felt something.”
Hallie places my hand on the swell of her belly, directly over the top half of the baby bump. Her right hand is resting over the top of mine, with her left directly alongside my fingers. I’m just about to ask what’s going on when I feel it. The faintest little thump against my hand.
“Holy shit!” I proclaim, my eyes wide as I feel the movement of our baby beneath my palm. “That’s incredible.”
I leave my hand there for several minutes, just feeling the baby move. I know in this moment; I’ll never forget what this feels like. I’ll never forget this night.
When the baby seems to settle down, I reluctantly get up and return to my seat. I’m on cloud nine, floating from the excitement of what just happened and am so grateful I was here to be part of it.
I grab my fork, suddenly starved from the long day, and ask, “So what’s your good news?”
Frankly, I’m not sure it could get any better than this.
Just as I go to take a bite of my potatoes, she drops the bomb. “I found a new place to live.”
The fork halts in front of my mouth as I look across the table. She’s practically bouncing with eagerness, her smile a mile wide, and while I should be happy for her, my heart breaks into tiny little pieces. “You did? That’s great,” I force out, setting my fork back down on my plate without taking the bite of food. “I didn’t realize you were looking.”
She shrugs sheepishly. “Well, I just started, and it sort of happened. I was talking to the pastor at the preschool yesterday, and he mentioned one of the families had a house for rent. He gave me the number for the Gustafsons, who offered to rent it immediately. Isn’t that great?”
I nod because it’s the expected response, but I don’t consider this great at all. “Wow, so you can move in right away?”
She takes a bite of her pasta salad. “Yep. And the best part is they left a lot of furniture in it and told me I can use whatever I need. They have a storage unit available for anything I don’t want, but since I’m starting over with a lot of that kind of stuff, I’ll probably use what’s available. Then I can focus on getting things for the baby and not furnishing an entire house.”
My throat is so dry, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to quench my thirst again. “Huh, what are the odds?”
Something flashes in her eyes, a sadness of sort, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears, making me think I imagined it.
“Since it’s available right away, I figured, why wait? The weather is getting colder by the day, so it’s best I get in sooner rather than later. Plus, I’m sure you’re ready to go home too. We’ve been here a lot longer than either of us could have predicted,” she adds, and with each word, it’s like the knife in my chest slowly turns.
I open my mouth to tell her she can just stay here, but that’s not what comes out. “Yeah.” My brain finally catches up a little, and I add, “There is no rush, though. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.”
She gives me a small smile. “I appreciate that, but this is what’s best. For me.”
I nod, even though I don’t understand. But I also know I won’t argue, not if this is what’s best for her. What’s best for me—which is her here, by the way—doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things if she’s not happy. If moving out and living separately again is what’s best, then that’s what needs to happen, even if it kills me inside. “Okay.”
“When I got home, I decided to start packing up my things, so it’s all ready to go. I already had the utilities transferred to my name and move in tomorrow. Gabe said he was available to help. I don’t think it’s going to take a lot of people. I don’t have that much stuff,” she says with a chuckle, continuing to eat her chicken as if she’s not completely ripping my heart out and stomping it into the ground.
Of course, she doesn’t know that. She has no clue how I feel, and how can I tell her now? She’s so excited about the move, about returning to her own place. She’s always been incredibly independent, and apparently, that’s still the case now. It’s what’s best for her, right?
We eat the majority of our meal in uncomfortable silence. Any conversation is led by Hallie, but it feels forced. Like maybe she doesn’t really know what to say, so she’s just saying anything to keep words flowing. Even though my stomach is in knots, I force food down my throat.
When most of the food on my plate is gone, I get up quickly and start to clean what little mess was created by the meal. I bag up the chicken, knowing she’ll be munching on that later—probably right before bedtime—and place lids on the bowls of sides.
After everything is put away, I turn to face Hallie and find a deep sadness written all over her face. A single tear slides down her cheek, and it’s that one little slip of moisture that has me moving in her direction. She’s standing and in my arms a second later. I hold her tightly to my chest and listen as she cries. Her sorrow mimics what I feel in my heart, and I’m certain it may never beat right again. When she leaves, she’ll be taking it with her, whether she knows it or not.
She pulls away and sniffles. “Sorry, I just got a little emotional,” she whispers.
Swiping the wetness from her cheeks with my fingers, I give her a small smile. “It’s okay.”
She looks up and holds my gaze. “I loved living with you.”
My heart skips a beat in my chest. “I loved living with you too, Hal.”
“And even though you drive me crazy, I’m going to miss you. You’ve really become a…friend to me.”
A friend.
Not exactly what a guy wants to hear after he’s fallen hopelessly in love with a woman.
