I pretended to be unaffected by the thought of keeping distance between us, when in reality, it was so hard not to reach out and pull him back to the couch.
Sully nodded, but he was giving me a funny stare, and I wondered if his thoughts were in the same place.
He didn’t go there, though.
“I want to know the information,” he said, resuming his pacing. “From the appointment.”
“Of course,” I said. That seemed reasonable. “I’ll tell you everything about the baby. And when there starts to be imaging and all that, you can come. You should come.”
I tried not to think too hard about Sully and me at the doctor together, pretending we were nothing to each other but co-parents. Pretending this wasn’t once the future we’d talked about.
“And you,” he said, and I didn’t quite know what he meant until he clarified, “I want you to tell me everything the doctor says aboutyou, too. I want to know about these risks, Eleanor.”
Right.
“I think for right now, the two of us are pretty intertwined,” I said with a soft laugh, brushing it off. “Information about the baby is information about me, you know?”
He steadied his look, unhappy with my answer.
“Yes, I’ll tell you,” I said, giving in. “I’ll tell you about me, too.”
“Thank you,” he breathed, and then he scrubbed his hand over his face.
I badly wanted to walk over and wrap my arms around him again, but I feared the moment for that was over—now that the heavy emotions were draining away and reality was setting in.
“How are you doing?” I asked instead. “How are you feeling about…everything?”
“El.” He huffed a laugh that didn’t sound believable and tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling. It didn’t go unnoticed that right above us was his childhood bedroom, where we used to lie in bed beneath the glow-in-the-dark plastic stars. “This used to be mydream,” he rasped.
“I know,” I whispered, but hearing him say it aloud was almost more than I could bear, and suddenly, I was trying not to cry again. I wasn’t sure exactly what about it made me well up, but I suspected it had something to do with hearing him imply it wasn’t his dream anymore.
“I know,” I repeated, “and I know it’s different now. I know it’s not how you probably wanted things to go. I knowI’mnot the one you’d probably choose for?—”
“Don’t,” Sully cut in, dropping his gaze to me again. It glittered as he stared at me. “Don’t say that.”
My breath hitched. “What?”
“That I wish it wasn’t you.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s so far from the fucking truth.”
“What’s the truth?”
Sully stared at me for a long moment, like he was contemplating telling me. Saying more. But eventually, he shook his head. “I think you’re right. I think I need to take a minute, let this…sink in.”
Yeah, thatwas smart.
It was the smart thing to do—focus on the baby, not on this, us, whatever still festered here, what truths went untold. Even though it was clear there were things between Sully and me that we’d probably need to unpack if we were going to do this together, it wasn’t the priority today.
“Okay.” I nodded, understanding. I dropped my gaze, fidgeted with the frayed edges of my jean shorts, picking at the strings of fabric that were barely holding on—just like me.
“Eleanor.”
I twisted the strings between my fingers. “What?”
“Look at me,” Sully pleaded.
