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I grabbed one pair anyway, balled it up in a few of the comfortable cotton pairs, and tossed them into the suitcase when Jaz went to open the closet. Quickly, I took out some pajamas and put them on top to hide it and then went to my sock basket.
I dumped half of the basket out on the bed, found a few pairs, and balled them together to toss in the suitcase while Jaz put in some jeans and a couple of shirts she knew I liked to wear when I was out in the field.
“Do you think you’ll go out for dinner or anything while you’re there?” she asked.
I froze. Of course I didn’t. It was ridiculous to think I would. I essentially had email confirmation that whatever we had was done.
Yet…
“No, I don’t think so,” I said. “But I like to keep something less work-y in there just in case.”
“Black dress?” she asked, a slight grin on her face. It wasn’t so much a comment on me or my proclivities, but on her own. Perhaps an indication of how she would end up with a round stomach and a few weeks away from dance, but I wasn’t going to say that out loud.
“I don’t think so. Maybe something a little less slinky.”
“Slinky is fun,” she said.
“I am aware,” I said. “I’m not there for fun.”
“As usual.”
Shrugging, Jaz brought the black dress she had grabbed out of the closet back and came back with a more conservative blue one. It wasn’t sexy, but it wasn’t exactly business either.
“You should get all your sad-pants stuff out of your system while I’m gone,” I said as she started heading for the bedroom door, apparently content that I could finish packing on my own. “When I get back, it’s going to be babyproofing this house from top to bottom. Safety locks on drawers and cabinets, door wedges, the works.”
“Okay,” she said, waving two fingers over her head without turning back to look at me.
With Jaz gone, I was left alone with my thoughts while I finished packing. I went into my bathroom and started packing the toiletries bag, stuffing everything into a drawstring I used for them, and thought about the anxiousness that was building up inside of me with every passing second.
Part of it was just in physically seeing Kane. He was tall and dark and handsome, but that was all surface. I also knew what he looked like under those clothes, what he smelled like when he was covered in sweat, what he tasted like when his lips were pressed into mine. I knew all of that, and I knew how much I wanted to experience them again.
And that I couldn’t.
Not only could I not experience any of it again, but I was going to have to tell him something about why I had changed my mind so quickly. I wasn’t so stupid as to think I was going to get out of there without an explanation. At some point he would corner me and ask what he did wrong or if there was a way to make things work. Assuming he wanted to make things work. That last email didn’t leave a lot of leeway there.
I was going to have to tell him something, but the truth wasn’t exactly what I was planning. How could I tell him that I had to break up with him because I was about to become a mother to my sister’s child? That I was giving him up for a baby that wasn’t even my own? It was such a ridiculous statement when I thought about it in a void, and I didn’t want to have to stand there and rationalize or defend my decision or my sister.
It was just how it was going to be. He had to deal with it. But telling him the truth would probably only conjure up questions I wasn’t ready to answer yet.
I tried to get to bed quickly, giving myself as much time to rest as possible. I wanted to look good before I left the house. If I could be presentable right when I got in the car, then there would be no worry about looking rough when I got there in case he was waiting on me. I had a feeling he might be.
Sleep didn’t come easy though. It took a long time of tossing and turning before I finally drifted off into a dreamless rest. When I got up to the sounds of the braying alarm, it was with much grumbling and resistance. I wanted to hit the snooze button and stay there a while, but I got up anyway, heading to the shower to get a quick rinse.
When I got out, I could smell coffee brewing and was happy to see that Jaz had gotten up too, making coffee for me since she couldn’t have it anymore. She was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on orange juice when I came in, already dressed and made up, but my hair still a bit damp.
