Page 78 of I Wish You Were Mine

I do know I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.

I don’t bother putting on a shirt before I head to the kitchen. I keep the lights off as I make myself a cup of coffee. I can see the stars through the window above the sink.

I’m a nighttime kinda guy.

Is that who I am? Or is that what I’ve chosen?

Grabbing my coffee, I head out onto the deck. It’s chilly, but the mug in my hand keeps me warm enough. My heart falls a little when I see the deck is empty. Totally stupid, thinking Maren might be out here.

I can recall with startling clarity how she’d looked that night. Wistful. Relaxed. The outline of her tits just visible through her shirt. And that smile. It was so real. So unguarded.

The stars I look at tonight are the same. But my mood—that’s different.

The hopes and fears I bring to those stars are much different.

Maren’s been nothing but wonderful. She’s everything Katie and I didn’t know we needed. That day last weekend—Jesus, Katie keeps asking to play SuperKitty tag on the beach again.

I know she’d love to be a big sister. Her camp counselors and teachers are always telling me how much she enjoys playing with other kids.

But how would Maren and I work things out? How wouldwework? If we decide to keep this baby, do I ask her if she wants to start dating? Seems like we’d be past that stage now. At the same time, we’ve never been on an actual date.

What if we date for a while, but our relationship fizzles? How do I explain all that to Katie?

How would Katie feel if Maren and I did last?

She’d be over the moon, having Maren around all the time.

Speaking of the moon. There’s a new one tonight, making the stars appear that much brighter. Boats bob in their slips in the marina, their rigging clanking in the breeze.

I guess it all comes down to whether or not I can trust myself to do right by Maren. I got annihilated before. Am I really capable of letting someone else in? Letting my guard down and adoring Maren the way she deserves to be adored?

Can I trust her to do right by me? By this baby?

She’s different, a voice inside me says.You know she’s different.

Hasn’t she proven it time and time again? From the moment we met, when she looked me in the eye and told me she liked my tattoos, to the moment this morning, when she bravely shared what was going on inside her head, she’s been honest. Reliable. Open, even when it hurts.

Girl’s got character. A rare thing in this world.

And maybe I’m scarred by my experience with a newborn not because I didn’t like newborns, but because I was alone.Not to mention totally gutted, my heart broken after a horrific breakup.

If I had a partner in caring for a newborn, it’d probably be much different.

Much better. Easier, at the very least.

Really, instead of being a shameful mistake, maybe this baby is a second chance. I’d get another shot at experiencing every stage, newborn on up. Only now I’m armed with the wisdom I earned the first time around.

I’d also have a committed woman at my side. One who isn’t skittish. One I don’t have to beg to stick around. My connection with Maren is obvious. I know her—understand her—in a way I never understood Becca. Maybe because Maren and I are much more alike.

Still, it’s such a risk. So many things would have to go right for that particular happily-ever-after to happen.

One in a million chance it pans out.

Then again, Maren is a one-in-a-million kind of person. I’ve never met anyone as funny. Brave. Smart. Sexy.

Leaning my forearm on the banister, I drink my coffee.

I just jump in scared.

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