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Shit! Things were going so well. This could potentially ruin everything.
"I think he'll be fine. But do me a favor and wait until tonight. When you're alone."
"Why?"
"Just trust me."
Nodding, I drop the test in my purse and wash my hands. Until I'm ready to tell Adam, this needs to stay between the two of us. As I reach for the door handle, Chloe drops a bomb on me.
"Oh, and Addy."
"Yeah?"
"I'm pregnant too."
I'm not sure whether to jump up and down or cry.
Not only will I not have to go through this alone, but Chloe and I will do this together. Every step of the way.
"Seriously?"
"We didn't want to wait any longer to start the future we planned," she says, walking past me and out into the hallway.
Following behind her, I replay the many conversations we've had over the years about the dreams her and Wyatt had. The plans.
A house. Kids. I think he even wanted a dog if I remember.
"What if it's a girl?" I ask, nudging her in the shoulder.
Wyatt picked out names for their kids. He wanted two boys and two girls. When Chloe gave birth to Lola, she couldn't decide which name suited her, so she used both.
Lola Grace.
"He's already tossing names around."
I bet he is.
As we take a seat at what I've come to learn is Chloe and Wyatt's table, I spot Adam behind the bar. He's pouring a beer and talking to a guy at the same time. This job comes easily to him, and he loves it. You can tell in the way he smiles, the ease in which he does multiple things at one time.
He never looks rushed.
Never ignores anyone.
He can be whomever you need him to be according to him.
He's a therapist, a relationship expert, a sports fan, and so much more. Whatever his customers want him to be, that's who he is for the time they’re seated at his bar. When they vacate their seat and someone else sits down, he figures out who he needs to be for that person and morphs.
"So about tonight," Chloe begins after the waitress walks away. "What time are you planning on coming over?"
I owe her dinner. No big deal. It's been a while since I've had the chance to spend any time in a functioning kitchen. I love to cook, and I'm pretty damn good at it. It's also my place to think.
I can escape into my mind while I chop, stir, and sear. My mind is a dangerous place to lurk, especially with my current situation, but it's also my happy place. I can weigh my options and figure things out without the input of others. My decision will be my own.
"After you drop me back at the house, I'll swing by the store and then head to your place. That should give me plenty of prep time. Any special requests?"
"Whatever you're in the mood for," she says, a huge smile on her face.
Nodding, I contemplate a few ideas, running them by Chloe while we wait for our food to arrive. My eyes shift to Adam every now and then, fear rearing its ugly head until I push it back down deep where it needs to stay for the moment.
