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“I can’t,” I manage to choke out, covering my eyes with my palms.
“I’ll take you home. No one should see you like this, come on,” he says, as if it’s so simple. A car door shuts. My head shakes while I sniffle and continue to cry. His hands wrap around my waist and he picks me up. I don’t have the strength to fight him.
He places me carefully into the passenger seat of a dark car, buckles me in and shuts the door carefully. He gets into the driver's seat, pulling out onto the open road.
He starts the trip in silence, giving me time to settle.
Eventually my tears stop falling and a carefully trained numbness sets back in.
“Are you alright?” he finally asks.
I manage a whisper. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”
“Yes.”
My heart might as well be a pile of useless bloody pieces.
“Do you love her?”
He doesn’t hesitate, not even a second to think. “No.”
“Just pull over please, I’ll walk.”
He shakes his head. “You’re not walking 60 miles. I’ll drive you home.”
“Why do you know where I live?”
Silence.
No answer, not until moments later.
“Dixie, tell me why. I can’t keep trying to work it out in my head. It’s beenthree years, I’m going crazy. Tell me.”
I blow out an exhausted breath.
Here goes nothing…
Chapter 2: One Way to Celebrate
"Flowers didn't ask to be flowers
and I didn't ask to be me."
— Kurt Vonnegut
Dixie
4 years ago…
“You know it’s my birthday today,” I boasted, jumping onto the couch next to him, putting my feet up on the leather ottoman next to his. My painted pink toes next to his soft black socks was like something of a dream to me. The simple contrast of sweet bubblegum pink nail polish on my fair skin set so closely to his much bigger covered feet made me giddy. It put the idea of a future into my head. A future where our feet intertwined rather than refusing to touch.
Jasper had always had that effect on me. Granted, I’d only known him for eight months. Still, he gave me butterflies without even trying to do it. At least, I was pretty damn sure he wasn’t trying to.
“It is?” he asked with a frown.
I laser focused on the movement of his lips, fascinated by how soft they looked. Pink, maybe a blush color despite his more tanned complexion. Soft, middletoned pink like some of my favorite flowers. “Your mom didn’t say anything.”
Don’t ruin the mood,I begged internally.Don’t bring her up.
