Page 33 of Afterglow

I pull it back from her, offended she’d jump to that conclusion… even if I did tee it up for her. “No. Jesus, Leanne.”

“Well, you just told me Rebecca is your sister-in-law, what am I supposed to think?” she huffs, and her nostrils flare on a forced inhale. It reminds me of the way she looked when I asked her if my dick was going to be a problem the day we met.

I roll my neck and roughly say, “She is.” Everything about how I’m explaining this is wrong, but it’s not something I talk about often, and this whole situation is tangled up in a way I never could’ve imagined. I hesitate for a beat, then force myself to meet her gaze. “I was married to her sister. Sarah.” Her name is a soft whisper across the space between us.

“Was?” she asks, her voice dropping low in anticipation—all the harshness of the moment before is gone.

I nod but hold her stare. “She died.”

Her eyes squeeze shut and she shakes her head. Part of me wants to mimic the gesture—to shake off the fresh wave of grief that comes with sharing this part of myself with someone new.

“Shit,” Leanne whispers, and when she looks at me again, it’s with so much sympathy I feel it in my chest. “I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know… I mean, obviously I didn’t know, but I just…”

She pushes away her plate and swipes a hand across her face.

“Leanne.” I reach out and gently tug it down. She drops it to her lap with a sigh. “Of course you didn’t know. I probably could’ve brought it up differently.”

Her posture sags, and the gesture smarts. I don’t want her beating herself up over something she had no clue about.

“Really, Leanne, it’s okay. It’s been a long time.” My heart races at the realization I’ll have to tell her everything eventually. If she’s this shaken up over learning about Sarah, I can’t imagine how she’ll feel knowing I lost a baby at the same time.

“How long is a long time?” she asks cautiously, pulling her plate back toward her with a sniff. She keeps her eyes averted and I’m yet again wishing I could read her mind.

“Six years.” My gut clenches as I brace myself for the next question. The one I’m sure she’ll ask.

But she doesn’t. Instead, she offers a consoling “I’m really sorry, Bryce,” and reaches for my hand.

“Thank you,” I say, swallowing back the thick feeling coating my throat. I should tell her now. I should get it all out in the open, all the hurting done at once, but things are still so tenuous between us. And my anxiety over voicing it aloud, making the two things exist in the same space, has my throat closing up.

“You’re sure it’s not weird for you, or for Rebecca, that I’m her patient?” She twines her fingers in mine now and the closer contact grounds me. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have—”

“I’m the one who called her, remember? And though I’m sure she was the picture of professionalism with you today, I’m telling you she’s very excited to be your doctor.” I catch her eyes and hold them. “I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust her, so I wouldn’t have it any other way either.”

“She’s… excited?” Leanne asks, biting her lip. “But does she know we aren’t, like, together? I don’t want her getting the wrong idea.”

“Yes. She knows.” I hide the sting I feel at her words as best I can. Because I know this too, but it doesn’t mean I don’t wish things were different. I never pictured doing this—having a baby—from the sidelines. Or worse, from the stands. I want to be on the field. I want to be a teammate.

We might’ve started off on the wrong foot, and we’re still getting to know each other, but is the idea of us trying to be more to each other so wrong?

She’s clearly not thinking along the same lines as me though because she blows out a relieved breath. Then she tilts her head and looks me dead in the eyes. “When you say she knows… Do you mean she knows? Like she knows knows?”

I grimace and hope she won’t be mad I told Becca. “Yeah, she knows.” I scrub the back of my neck, avoiding her gaze.

“Bryce!” she shouts, making me flinch. I’m lucky she didn’t lob the pillow at me this time.

“I’m sorry. But like you said, I didn’t want her getting the wrong idea.” The word wrong tastes like bile in my mouth. “I didn’t give her all the details, but she knows we met at the ranch at your sister’s wedding and that it was a one-time thing.”

She groans and falls sideways on the couch, burying her face in the cushion. It’s comical to see her react this way. It’s so… human.

“In the spirit of full disclosure,” I continue, grimacing, “you should also know that her parents own the ranch.”

She shoots up like a rocket, her eyes wide and her mouth agape in horror.

“What!?” she yells. I’m worried she might launch across the couch and strangle me.

“Yeah. They own the ranch and run all the actual ranch business: cows, horses, etc. I run the events business. They live in the big house up the hill from the event barn.”

“Are you… Seriously?” Her voice rises a full octave. “This is… Do they know!?” I’ve never seen her so flustered and embarrassed. Not even when she told me she thought I was a woman.