“Well, how were you feeling when you spoke to him?” My aunts’ eyes probe me, as if the answer will magically appear on my face. Nope, no such luck. I have to physically open my mouth and say what’s been bothering me.
“Scared,” I sigh. “And confused. But mostly conflicted. It felt like I was reliving the same mistakes over again and I kept punishing myself. I didn’t want to believe that I could be reckless enough to get myself into the same situation a second time.” A few stray tears slip down my cheeks and I wipe them away quickly. Stupid pregnancy hormones. I can’t even watch a damn dog food commercial without crying.
Aunt Emma takes my empty soup bowl and places it on the nightstand next to my bed. She looks away for a moment, her face thoughtful. “Sweetheart, I understand why you would feel that way. But I don’t think it’s fair to assume that Grayson will treat you same way that Jake did.”
She’s right, but I haven’t been able to shake the heavy feeling that my past mistakes are stuck on repeat, my history destined to repeat itself. “I couldn’t deal with the disappointment I felt with myself and worry about how Grayson was going to react to the news.”
Aunt Emma shifts closer and wraps her arms around me. “Sweetheart, everything in life happens for a reason. You can’t look at this as a mistake because no child born into this world is a mistake. Look at it as a second chance. You didn’t have Jake’s baby for a reason, believe that. And now you have a little person in there,” – she rests her hand on my belly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears – “That is nothing short of a miracle, a creation made from yours and Graysons’ love for each other.”
“I’m scared Aunt Em, what if I’m not ready for this?” Admitting my deepest fear out loud makes it all so much more real. I can’t take back my past, but I can learn to let go of my guilt and self-loathing and accept that this baby is my second chance. My do-over.
“Honey, if God didn’t think you were ready, He wouldn’t have put you on this path. You are going to be an amazing momma, and I will be right next to you all the way. But this is Graysons’ baby too and he deserves a chance to be a part of this.”
My heart swells, expanding beyond its’ capacity just thinking about Grayson. “How did Uncle Alex take it?” I ask. We haven’t really spoken about what comes next. I almost expected Aunt Emma and Uncle Alex to scream and yell at me, tell me how irresponsible I am. But I should’ve known that would never happen.
My aunt chuckles, “He’s a man, they don’t get emotional like we do. But he loves you sweetheart, and he wants what’s best for you. He had a few words with Grayson and he seemed happy after that. I have no idea what they spoke about, but I think he was just looking out for you. We want you to be happy, and to know that you won’t have to do any of this alone.”
“Thank you,” I cry, “I love you and Uncle Alex both so much. I’m so grateful to have you both in my life.”
I hug my aunt, squeezing a little tighter than normal. She hugs me back and then clears her throat. “I have something for you.”
I look at her quizzically before she jumps up and leaves the room. For some reason I’m nervous, the butterflies flapping wildly in my belly. I welcome the feeling. It’s refreshing to feel something other than sadness and regret. I hear heavy footsteps coming down the hallway and then the door slowly creaks open.
When I see him, my heart jumps and the butterflies in my belly multiply. It’s only been two weeks but in my soul it feels like two centuries. His Jade eyes meet mine and I notice the bags under his eyes. He looks tired. Exhausted even. Like his nights have been as restless as mine. I catch sight of his light stubble and my fingers ache to touch it. To touch his face. His lips. God, I’ve missed him so much. My muscles pulse with the need to jump into his strong arms. But I wait, with baited breath, and watch him approach me.
“Hi,” he says. His voice teases my ears with its roughness.
“Hi.” I suddenly feel very shy, like I’m meeting this beautiful, complicated man for the first time.
He swallows audibly and rubs his hands down his jeans. I stop myself from chuckling at his obvious nervousness. He walks a little closer and his nearness makes every nerve in my body jump to life. I’m giddy with it.
I pat the bed next to me, motioning for him to sit down. He hesitates for a split second, unsure of himself, and then slowly lowers until we’re almost eye-to-eye. My pulse starts racing and I contemplate reaching out and running my fingers down his face. I need to touch him, so that I know he’s really here. I see so much in his eyes and it makes me hopeful.
“How are you?” he asks. It’s so forced, and unlike us. I hate that it’s so awkward.
“I’ve been better,” I admit honestly. “You look tired.”