“Maybe we’re talking about the wrong thing…” He eyed me suspiciously.
“It’s possible, but I doubt it. Every four weeks on the dot you either come in late or take a long lunch, and every time, you expect beforehand that it’ll happen and you let me know—the same thing you did the two times Christine was pregnant, and you went with her to the appointments. That in itself isn’t overly telling considering I’m aware you two have gone to see multiple doctors for other reasons, but it was enough to take an educated guess. And then there’s the way you snap at Ronnie leading up to those secret appointments, and afterward when you finally make it back to the office, you’re so pleasant to be around. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what’s going on.”
“You seriously figured all that out by watching me?”
“Don’t make it sound like that. Don’t cheapen what we have or dirty it with insinuations of obsession and stalking.” I pretended to flip the hair I didn’t have and then crossed my arms over my chest, giving him the best impression of an offended woman as I could. “Most people would kill to have a man like me in their life, watching them, making sure they were all right. But you don’t even seem to be grateful.”
Laughing beneath his breath, Matt threw a pencil at me.
“That could’ve poked my eye out. I’m not sure what kind of Worker’s Comp claims are typical at an accounting firm, but a pencil to the eye probably isn’t one that’s seen often.”
“I don’t think it can be fairly assessed as to how often it gets seen…I mean, they’d be missing an eye right? I’m sure visibility is lowered at that point.” We both shared a good laugh, one I hadn’t had with him in a while. After the hilarity lessened, he asked, “So now that you know, you still want to have lunch with me?”
I leaned back in my chair and shook my head. “I don’t know anything, because you have yet to tell me anything.”
“Good. Then I’ll tell you at lunch.” He got up and headed for the door.
“Pick me up around eleven thirty?” I teased with my voice high and flirty.
Matt stood with the doorknob in his grip, his upper body turned to face me, and a smile stretched across his mouth. “Yeah, but I’m not bringing you flowers.”
“That’s fine. But don’t expect me to put out.”
He laughed again, and just when I thought he’d open the door and leave, he relaxed his stance and said, “Christine’s pregnant.” His voice quivered, his words sounding on the edge of tears. I’d only seen the man cry twice—when he’d seen Christine walk down the aisle, and when they lost their first baby. “I’m going to be a dad.”
“Congrats, Matt. You’ll be the best. No doubt about it.”
I really wanted to run over to him, hug the life out of him, show him exactly how ecstatic I was for him, but my feet wouldn’t move. That didn’t at all mean I wasn’t happy or didn’t care to celebrate with him. It signified the enormity of the situation, the delicacy, and it expressed how grateful I was to the universe for this. If anyone deserved this kind of happiness, it was Matt—and obviously, Christine.
Once the door closed behind him, and I was left alone in the silence of my office, I couldn’t help but think about the future and what I wanted out of it. It was obvious Matt was getting everything he could possibly want and deserve, and I couldn’t be happier for him. But that happiness made me reexamine my own life. It made me think about what I wanted for myself. What would make me happy and would it even be possible to achieve that level of contentment.
For years, my focus had been the accounting firm. Any goal I’d set had to do with my business, and in the grand scheme of things, they were rather short term. Aside from the brief moment in time when I thought I had a future with Janelle, I’d never thought about the long term.
The realization suddenly hit me—I wanted that, too.
Maybe Matt becoming a dad put things into perspective for me, since we were the same age. Maybe it was having Janelle at the house and getting a taste of what life would be like with her as my wife. Whatever the reason, I couldn’t stop myself from imagining my life years from now, and what I ultimately wanted.
Without a doubt, I was certain I wanted Janelle by my side. I wanted her to take my last name, for real this time. And I knew I wanted her to carry my children. As many as she’d give me. I wanted it all, and I wanted it with her. The Sunday dinners with our kids and grandkids coming to our house while she heated up frozen lasagna in the oven—although, the more we had cooked together, the better she’d gotten at it.
My sudden awareness overwhelmed me.
And now I needed to figure out what to do about it.
“There’s no time for that, Holden.” Janelle smirked at me through the mirror while she got ready for dinner. Matt and Christine had invited us all over to their house to share and celebrate their good news.
I moved to stand behind her, my hands on the bathroom vanity on either side of her waist, trapping her in. With my chin on her shoulder, I locked gazes with her in the mirror. “I can be fast. You don’t even have to stop putting on your makeup.”
She snickered and shoved me away with her shoulder. I took a step back and observed my sink area—the one that used to have next to nothing on it. Now, her soaps and lotions filled the corner, and her toothbrush joined mine in the cup to the side.
“Do you know why they’ve asked everyone to come over tonight?” She finished swiping on her gloss and smacked her lips in the mirror. When she found my eyes again, she turned around and perched herself on the edge of the vanity. “You do know, don’t you? Spill it. Is it what I think it is?”
“Depends…what do you think it is?”
She waved me off with an infectious giggle. “Doesn’t matter. I have a pretty good idea. I mean, why else would they ask the entire family over to their house at the same time?”
Grabbing her by the hips, I moved her farther onto the granite and then fit myself between her parted thighs. I glanced down and took in her outfit, loving the long skirt. This wasn’t her typical attire, but realizing how easily accessible it made her, I wanted to stock her closet full of skirts just like this one. Then a thought crossed my mind and made me still my movements—I didn’t want her clothes in any other closet than mine. Ever.