Page 140 of In Your Wake

She nods, smiling. “I bet it has.”

I shut my eyes, trying to consider my next words, knowing that they won’t change a thing, but I spent an entire plane and car ride mulling them over. There’s no doubt that if I don’t speak this today, I’ll regret missing my chance. And I’m so sick of regrets.

“I’m telling you, Max. Coming back here, working at the brewery, seeing everyone every day. I’ve realized those are the things I love. The things that matter. Losing Dad made me see that my life wasn’t giving me what I needed. I was happier for those few weeks here than I’ve been in years on the ice.”

“That’s great, but—”

“I know what you’re going to say.” I take her hand, cradling it in mine. “Don’t worry. I’m not looking to rehash what happened between us. You were right. It would be impossible to win back what we could have had. And we are in a weird place. I get it. So, if you and I are only meant to be friends, then I’m okay with that.”

“Oh… you are?” she asks, her voice unsteady.

A shadow of unease crosses her face, and suddenly, I’m not sure of anything anymore. “You do want to be friends, right?”

She blinks and then makes a face. “Of course. For sure.”

“Good,” I reply, sort of wishing she’d say more. “Anyway, I went back to New York, and I just didn’t feel right. I knew then and there that Oakwhite is where I need to be.”

She covers my hand with hers, and a smile stretches across my face. I ignore the rush of warmth that shoots up my arm, straight to my heart.

If all she wants is to be friends, I mean it; I’m okay with it. But that doesn’t mean it won’t kill me to be around her every day and not sweep her up into my arms.

“I’m happy for you,” she says. “I’m sure whatever you’ve decided will be the right thing for you.”

“It’ll take some getting used to, that’s for sure—”

“I need to tell you something,” she interrupts, her tone haunted, reminding me of when Mom called to tell me about Dad being sick.

A pit settles in my stomach. “What’s wrong?”

She slides the sunglasses up onto her head, revealing her glossy eyes, and worries her lip between her teeth. My head spins, and as if a bolt of electricity has pierced through my chest, my heart stops. A ball of fear wedges itself in my throat.

“You’re freaking me out here. What’s going on?”

“I need you to promise not to take this badly. No matter what I say, promise me you won’t freak out.”

Numb, my blood grows cold, and then stops flowing through my veins altogether. All I can see is Maxine; her weary eyes, her creamy flushed skin, her tiny hands holding mine with a grip stronger than my own.

“Max…” The words fail me. I don’t want to hear what she’s about to say. I refuse to. I don’t think I can handle it. But I can’t run away, either.

“Mitchell, I need you to shut up and let me say everything I have to say. Got it?”

Max

“Mitch?” I say a minute later, a little worried by the severity of his stare. “Can you promise me that?”

He blinks, then shakes his head, snapping back to reality. “Yeah, sure, I promise.”

“Okay, good.” I focus on our hands, on running my finger along the tiny scars on the surface of his skin. Whether they’re from games or even some random kitchen accident, I’m not sure, but I’m suddenly insanely curious to find out.

He said he’s okay with being friends. And I should be happy to hear that. So, then why do I feel like this abyss has opened up inside of me and that those might be the scariest words I’ve ever heard? I don’t doubt I can take care of this baby on my own, and will if I need to, but I sort of want him by my side, going through it all.

As more than a friend.

I want him to love me again, so desperately, I feel it tearing at my bones.

“Christ, Max, say something,” Mitch snaps, and I realize I’ve been quiet this whole time, lost in thought.

“I’m pregnant,” I blurt.