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Looking around the room, I wonder if I’ll stay here once I have the baby. There’s a guest bedroom that can be turned into a nursery, and it’s walking distance to work. But if I’m honest, I never imagined raising a child in the city. I imagined the nursery in the house that I updated with Steven. I imagineddoing thiswith Steven.
“Ugh,” I groan. How could my ex-husband do this to me? What a freaking disaster…and yet…my hand goes to my belly, and even though I know there is barely an embryo let alone a full-fledged baby, I find comfort in holding my stomach.
In just a few short hours, I’ve gone from finding this entire thing to be utterly insane to almost excited.
This was never my plan. Being married, settled, raising my child with two parents—those were all part of the plan. But if I’ve learned anything in the last year it’s that God doesn’t give a hoot about my plans.
After taking a long shower where I allow the steam to billow around me for far longer than necessary, I put my hair up in a bun and toss on a pair of black leggings and a long green sweater. This can’t be a good sign that after less than two months of being around Hayden, I’m already skipping makeup. Or maybe I’m just preparing him for what I’ll look like for the next several months. If he wants to stick around, he’d better get used to this face.
I remove my contacts and slip on the glasses that I haven’t worn in months. And then the tears start. I can’t look at myself in these glasses without thinking of Cash. But I also need to see, and the contacts mixed with the amount of tears I’m sure to shed when I tell Hayden everything are not going to work.
How is this my life?
I slip the glasses off. Seeing is overrated.
In my kitchen I spot the bottle of wine that I was drinking from only last night.Whoops.What is the difference between having a glass last night and today? Why is it one day it’s okay and the next it’s not?
Oh right, because now I’mawarethere’s a child growing inside me. Why can’t I live in Europe where women drink wine throughout their pregnancies? Or is that a myth? I’m spiraling, I know.
Oh, God, screw wine. I can’t have my dirty martinis. There is no world in which it’s okay to ‘just have one.’
Dammit.
The knock on the door disturbs my inner rantings. “It’s open,” I shout. Clearly, we’ve moved past me welcoming him into my home. Poor guy is in for quite the shock.
Hayden walks through the door, and just the sight of him calms me.
“Hey beautiful, how are you doing this evening? You sounded off today.” Hayden enters my space in three strides and brushes a kiss against my cheek before pulling me in for one of his amazing hugs.
I sigh against his chest. “I’m better now. I just needed to wrap my head around a few things. What did you bring to eat? I’m starving.”
Hayden smiles, and his thumb caresses my jaw. “Chinese okay?” he asks with a boyish grin.
I smile. “It’s perfect.” As I move around the kitchen grabbing plates and utensils, Hayden sets everything down on the table in the living room. This isn’t our first night eating in, and he discovered my secret obsession the last time he was here. WatchingMillionaire Matchmakerand eating on the couch with chopsticks. Even when it’s not Chinese, I feel like it controls my food intake because I have to take smaller bites.
We settle next to each other on the floor with our food in front of us on the coffee table, and I flick on the TV. Before I take a bite, I turn to Hayden and smile. He’s sitting cross-legged like me, but his legs are so long he looks like a giant. Like Buddy the elf. “Thanks for being here,” I murmur softly, grateful for his presence.
He smiles and squeezes my leg. “I saw your ex at the office today.”
I practically choke on my lo mein. “Way to bury the lede.”
He chuckles. “The man’s a bastard, and it’s clear as day he misses you.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, now I have no idea which ex you’re referring to, because neither of my most recent ones want anything to do with me.”
He shakes his head. “Love, any man who let you go is out of his damn mind.”
I harumph and go back to eating.
“Cash must have seen the papers,” he says thoughtfully before taking a bite of his dumpling. I grab one off his plate and dunk it into the soy sauce. It’s surprising how after such a short time I feel comfortable enough to eat off his plate, but I do.
“What papers?” I ask with a full mouth. This guy is really getting the best version of me.
Hayden laughs. “You weren’t kidding when you swore off the media.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Listen, after the debacle with your brother, my ex-husband, my mother, and then Cash…yeah, I’m all set. Nothing I say changes what they print, and as we all know, when I decided to actually sit down with someone from the press…well, that really backfired.”
Hayden laughs. I’m glad he finds my downward spiral amusing. “Come on, love, it’s not all bad. Now you got me.”
