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I hold up my hand up to stop him, unable to help the laugh that escapes me. “Ford, I was teasing. I am tired. Exhausted, actually.”
His already frowning mouth, turns into an even deeper frown. Ford isn’t one of those broody types, but he’s serious. He thinks before he speaks—or acts. I think he was born with the brain of a forty-year-old man. He’s always been protective of me, even when we were kids. I guess even me becoming a mother won’t stop that protective streak.
“I hate him. I hate him for leaving you. And I’m not a big fan of your mother at the moment either.”
“I know. I know.” I place a hand on his bicep, and his shoulders relax. “There’s no use being angry, though. I’m not. I have a beautiful baby girl, don’t I?”
A moment of silence stretches between us. Ford takes a sip of his tea, studying his bare white wall with interest.
A contented sigh escapes me. I’d forgotten how nice it is to be with my best friend. He doesn’t need to fill every silence with chatter. He’s my calm, steady presence. My big protector.
“How’s the season going?” I ask, wanting to talk like we normally would, even though the tightness in my chest reminds me of something I want to talk to him about. Or maybe that’s the literal hole in my heart causing the tight feeling? Either way. A reminder.
He swivels his head to look at me, close enough now for me to see the masculine lines around his eyes, the lines that are adding to the whole mature but handsome effect I noticed earlier.
One corner of his mouth turns up. We both know I know how the season is going. I haven’t missed watching one of his games since we were kids.
Ford finally huffs out a laugh and sets his tea back on the tray. “Did you see my breakaway a few nights ago?”
I grin. “I did. Very impressive. Me and Nella were cheering you on.”
He smiles back, drawing attention to that little dip in his chin that I used to poke just to annoy him—one of the few touches he’d allow. I’m tempted to do it now, but his body language seems stiff, like he’s nervous.
“Knowing you’re watching always helps me focus. I can ignore the crowd and the clatter and just think… Amber is sitting on her couch watching right now.”
I laugh. “Maybe someday I’ll make it to a game in person.”
“I’d love that. I might be able to get you good seats.” He raises his eyebrows.
“Think they could spare a few for the team captain?”
“Probably.” He shrugs.
I let my head fall back onto the couch with a laugh.
His face is stoic and serious, even when he’s jesting. I used to have to tell the people around us when he was joking or not, but I can tell easily. It’s all in the eyes. They get all shiny when he’s joking.
Ford leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Even hunched over he’s huge, taking up twice as much space on the couch as I am. “All right, Ambs. Enough chitchat. What’s going on?”
I blow out a long sigh. “You know me too well.”
He doesn’t say anything, just looks at me expectantly.
“First, don’t be alarmed. I’m fine. Totally fine.”
“Then, why would I be alarmed?”
Ignoring his question, I continue, “Second, I may need a favor in the near future, but when… if I ask, you can’t give me an answer until you’ve taken time to think about it. Like, a week, at least.”
“I already know the answer is yes,” he says, his eyes not leaving mine.
My fragile heart skips a beat. I knew he’d say something like that. He’s just that kind of person. Always there, no matter the ask.
Clearing my throat, I force myself to keep going, “So, the thing is… I might need a tiny, little, no-big-deal surgery.”
Ford’s dark eyes go wide, his thick eyebrows rising in alarm. “What kind of surgery?”
I look down, avoiding those intense brown eyes even though they are glued to my face. “For my heart.” Closing my eyes, I collect myself. I hadn’t meant to jump into this conversation so abruptly. “There’s a small hole in my heart. It’s been there since I was born, most likely. But it went unnoticed all this time, until I was giving birth and my heart rate was all over the place.” Taking a deep breath, I will my shoulders to relax. The last thing I want is to pour all of my anxiety onto my best friend. “Which is why I ended up having a c-section. They kept me an extra day at the hospital to monitor things, and everything seemed normal, so they discharged me.” I roll my lips together and glance at Ford, who looks like I just told him I’m dying. “But my heart rate remained erratic. Sometimes it felt really fast, and I couldn’t tell if it was anxiety, or my heart. I went to see a cardiologist, and they had me wear a heart monitor for a few weeks, and when I get back to Ohio, I have an appointment for an EKG and a stress test.” What I don’t add, is how expensive it all is. And I try not to think about it, either. “My cardiologist is positive I have a hole in my heart, they’re just covering all the bases to be sure they need to operate on it. At my appointment Monday, we’ll discuss the options. But surgery is likely.”
