AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Claire?" I call out. "You here?"
The house is quiet for a minute, the old grandfather clock on the wall by the stairs ticking away.
Then a small voice comes from upstairs. "Up here."
I climb the stairs, my eyes falling to the master bedroom. She's not in there, though; the bed is neatly made, the curtains blowing in the dusk breeze. I turn around and look the other way, and that's where I find her: sitting in the middle of the wood floor of the guest room. The sun is setting outside the window, the plastic drop cloth on the edges of the floor rustling in the wind coming in from outside. Claire's back is to me, her hair nearly down to her waist, her hands clasped in her lap.
I step forward slowly, frowning as I get closer. I don't let on about it, but my heart is fucking pounding; I'm terrified. I have this horrible sense that she's hurt, or sick, or that she's gotten bad news.
For her part, she's quiet. I realize Luna is sitting beside her, her head propped on Claire's thigh, and the dog's tail thumps against the floor as I come closer.
Then Claire looks over her shoulder, her face in golden profile.
She's crying.
"Shit, Claire," I murmur. "Are you okay?"
She sniffs, her face cracking into a smile. "Yeah," she says. "Um...will you come sit with me?"
I nod. "'Course."
I walk over and take a seat on the floor beside her, sitting cross-legged. She doesn't say anything, the silence agonizing; but she at least takes my hand, squeezing it gently. As always, my skin lights up at her touch, sending a wave of warmth and comfort through me.
"What's going on?" I ask. "Gotta admit...I'm a little freaked out."
The tears aren't flowing or anything. But she's clearly been sobbing, her nose red, her eyes puffy.
"Sorry," she laughs. "I think I'm still processing."
"Processing what?"
She holds my hand tighter and finally meets my eyes. There's this incredible, unreadable expression in them--maybe terror, maybe joy, but an undeniable spark. Claire gestures around the room with an idle hand. There's a pen in it, I think. Maybe she was journaling.
"What color do you think?" she asks.
I give her a confused smile. "For?"
"For the nursery."
Understanding comes slow, because she had to bury the damn lede. My jaw drops as she holds out the pen--and I realize it's not a pen, but a pregnancy test. I take it from her without a word, and I look down to see those two little bars.
Positive.
"I'm pregnant," she whispers.
She's smiling, and I can't help it. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my lap, holding her tight. Luna is in the way, so I shift us around to my side and Claire laughs. I kiss her and she kisses me, and that's how we stay for a long time.
After a while, Claire looks up at me, her eyes wet with tears. "I'm pregnant," she breathes. "I can't believe it."
"I can," I tell her. "You were born to be a mom, Claire."
My heart is in my fucking throat, and I have to take a deep breath because it's lodged there. I can't swallow, and my blood is pumping hot and fast through my veins.
"My god," she whispers. "I'm going to have a baby."
I realize what she means and my whole body relaxes. Because we're not together...and I know I want to be. But we're not fighting it, either. That's what we always said, isn't it? Or at least, the version of it that we count.
I think about her when I'm away from her.
