“You shouldn’t have been drinking,” I say firmly and stare daggers into his eyes. I feel his warm breath on my face. “If something happened to Kai—”
“I handled everything, didn’t I?” He raises his voice slightly. “It’s not like I drank a bottle, Sam. It was one mouthful. I needed to calm down.”
“So you medicate with booze?” I snap back. “Remember his mother was an addict. You need to curb what you’re doing around here so you don’t model that type of behavior.” He’s so close to me right now I can’t move. My foot is killing me, and I want to push past him, but I’m boxed in.
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do in my own home. If I want to have a shot of whiskey to calm my nerves, I’ll do it a hundred fucking times over.”
“Garrett, you need to calm down,” I say. What has gotten into him?
“Do you know what day it is?” he asks.
“What? It’s Thursday,” I say, wondering why he’s even asking me this question.
“Exactly. It’s Thursday,” he says, and his face softens. “It’s Thursday, Sam.”
Pizza Thursday.
Shit.
He suddenly leans closer, closing the small distance between our mouths. His lips brush against mine and I freeze in place.
“What are you doing?” I breathe.
Garrett
Present
Villanova, Pennsylvania
Age 27
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” she says, and I don’t give her another second to say anything else. I grab the sides of her face, tangling my fingers in her hair, and pull her lips against mine. My kiss is harsh and fast, and I feel her pushing and pulling at me with all of her strength.
I hit the wall behind me, and she takes off, limping down the hall. What the hell just came over me? Why did I do that?
I unclench my fists and try to calm myself down. I couldn’t get the image of her with another guy out of my head all night. When Peggy told me she was out on a date, I almost lost it. I realize I have no right to feel this way, but I feel betrayed. For the past few weeks, we’ve spent so much time together, and she’s had such a positive influence over me. She’s gotten me past my fear of being alone with Kai. She’s guided me on what to do when holding him and caring for him. I’ve been a bumbling idiot and terrified every single time I touch him, but she’s talked me off the ledge and constantly reassures me that I’m doing fine.
It’s Pizza Thursday. Our day.
Jealousy coursed through my veins all night, picturing her with someone else. What’s wrong with me?
Regret sweeps through me. I need to make this right. I hear her downstairs in the kitchen and look for her so I can apologize.
She’s assembling clean bottles and pouring formula into them for the night. She lines them up and grabs the soft cooler from under the cabinet. She puts the filled bottles into the cooler along with two bottles of water for herself. This is her nightly routine, and I don’t dare interrupt her. She’s limping around the kitchen, obviously in pain and flustered by what just happened.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“You should be.” She snaps back at me. “Why did you kiss me? You shouldn’t have done that. We shouldn’t—” Her eyes are filled with guilt. The pain on her face is evident.
“Why don’t you sit down. Let me get you some ice.” I walk past her to the freezer and grab an ice pack.
I’m surprised by how quickly she agrees and she hops into the den, throwing herself on the couch. She’s breathing heavily and squirming in pain. “I really think I broke something.” She seems to forget why she was yelling at me a few seconds ago, and I sit on the couch and pull her feet onto my lap.
“Ouch. My God, it hurts bad.”
I look down and see that bruising has already started on the top of her foot, spreading toward her big toe. There’s some swelling, but not a lot. I place the ice gingerly on the spot that looks the worst, and she stiffens. “Cold, cold, cold,” she repeats, and eventually her foot relaxes under the ice pack.