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Maybe I shouldn’t have been so confident talking to a stranger about my life, but my gut knew to trust him. I couldn’t explain what it was, but I knew I could tell him things and it would never go any further than him.
“I don’t know where to start,” I murmured, staring down at my hands resting on my stomach. “I’ve been thinking about reaching out to my mom, but I don’t know if I’m ready to face it all.” Leopold made a humming sound, not committing to an answer. “And I mentioned it to Curtis, and he was…I don’t know. Defensive?” I looked up and stared at Leopold as he placed the pasta in water and reached for his pot of trusty pasta sauce he kept on the back stove.
“Defensive in what way?” he asked, raising his brows at me.
“I don’t know…” I shook my head. “Maybe it was because of me asking about last night and the people he was talking to.”
“Huh?”
“I heard voices last night around three a.m., and I asked him who it was.” I paused and rested my face on my hand. “He said some friends from home had come to talk to him, and I mentioned about us going home, but…” I swallowed, trying to hold my emotions at bay, but it was harder than ever. “He said Ford wasn’t there, so I had nothing to go back to, and—”
“Wow.” Leopold strained the pasta and added it to the warmed-up sauce, his face a mask of surprise. “Sounds like he’s jealous.”
“Jealous?” I asked, frowning up a storm. “What does he have to be jealous of?”
He shrugged as he plated up the pasta and then brought it over to me with a bowl of his own. “Maybe he wants to be more than just friends?” Leopold sat next to me, his eyes shining with sincerity. “Or maybe he’s scared if you go home, and so does he, that he’ll lose you. He’s tried to do right by you these last few months. He’s just protecting you.”
I flicked my gaze down to my pasta and pulled in a breath, sighing from the smell of it. “Maybe…” I wasn’t too sure. Something had seemed on edge with Curtis. But I was overthinking everything, and I couldn’t help it.
“You are right, though, Belle,” Leopold said, breaking through my thoughts. “You should reach out to your mom. You need her more than ever now.” He glanced down at my bump and then back to my face. “I’m sure she’d want to be there for you.”
I let out a breath because what he was saying was true. Mom would want to be there, but… “The problem is, it wouldn’t just be reaching out to my mom.” I pushed my fork into the pasta. “As soon as I made contact, my dad would be all over it, and then it’d only be a matter of time.”
Leopold paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Matter of time until what?”
“I…” My eyes widened as I realized what I’d said. I’d told Leopold some things, but he didn’t know who my dad was. He didn’t know what he did for a living. I was keeping that secret, because although I trusted him, my instinct was to not tell anyone, especially after everything that had happened. “It doesn’t matter.” I smiled at him. “I’ll think about reaching out to her.”
And I would. I needed my family more than ever, but I couldn’t deny the glaring Ford-shaped hole that would be apparent. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face it all head-on, but time didn’t stop for anyone, and it was going by faster and faster.
* * *
BELLE
For five days, I’d gone back and forth about calling my mom and letting her know I was okay. I hadn’t spoken with her since I’d been with Ford at the lake house, and I missed her. But I wasn’t sure how to even start a conversation after all this time, not without blurting everything out in one go. I’d practiced it over and over in my head, but every time I went back to the cabin and told myself I’d call her, I chickened out. I’d pull my cell out, ready to put it back together and charge it, but then something stopped me. In my mind, I was geared up to tell her everything, but in reality, I was scared. Scared to tell the truth. Scared to be alone in this world. Scared to come out of the little safe haven that I’d created here.
It was all I could think about, although I hadn’t mentioned it to Curtis again after Saturday afternoon. He’d come home the next morning at around eleven, and although I knew he’d stayed with someone else, it didn’t bother me. He needed space, just like I did. He hadn’t brought up what we’d spoken about. In fact, he acted like we never had the conversation in the first place, so I was going along with it for now.
Curtis had been there for me when I’d needed someone to lean on, and I wouldn’t forget that. He’d lost people he loved too—Stella and Justin—and I had no doubt he was affected by it. I just wasn’t sure whether I should try and talk to him about it all or not. So for now, I stayed silent and tried to piece the bridge back together with some light conversation about nothing that really mattered.
I blinked several times, stuck in my own mind as I stared at the cash register. Tiredness was setting in after a restless night’s sleep, and my eyes felt like sandpaper. It didn’t matter what position I’d put myself in last night, I just couldn’t get comfortable. My back was aching, and my body was fatigued, but most of all, my brain was overworked.
I rang up the teenager who came in each week to pick up his grandma’s weekly order, and handed him the change. He grunted, “Thank you,” and left the store without another word, leaving me to mull over all my thoughts. They were on replay with nothing new coming into place and causing a deciding factor. I was at a crossroads, not knowing which way to turn.
And then it happened.
The worse pain I’d ever felt in my entire life radiated across my stomach, and I squealed and grabbed my bump. Sweat started to bead on my forehead, and my body sagged over the counter from the force of it. The pain lasted for only seconds, but it was enough to knock me off my feet.
I leaned back on the stool behind the counter and tried to take in even breaths, but it was hard after the shock of it. Was something wrong with the baby? I only had five weeks left until my d
ue date. It was too early for me to be in labor, right?
Holding my stomach, I considered calling Dr. Ponts, when a couple of minutes later, the pain hit me again, this time worse than the first. It didn’t matter that I was slightly prepared for it, it still knocked me sideways. I tried to breathe through it, but the more I let air in and out of my body, the worse it felt. My entire bump tensed, and I could almost see the way my muscles contracted and threatened to not let go.
I stumbled around the counter, tears springing from my eyes. I didn’t know what was going on, and I had no idea what I should do. I gripped on to a shelf and accidentally knocked over some canned food, but I couldn’t worry about that, not right then. All I was focused on was the street outside the window. Maybe someone would come inside and notice what was happening.
The pain subsided after what felt like a lifetime, but in reality, it was only seconds, and I stood in the middle of the store, wondering what I should do. It had happened twice, and I was scared it would happen again and again. Was this what labor felt like? Was the baby coming? I wasn’t prepared. All I had was a bassinet and a few clothes from when I last went into the city. And it was right at that moment I knew I had to call my mom.
I had to go home.
