“He called me,” she whispered. “Eli. He called last night, wanting to know if I had spoken to you. He sounded like he was—”
“Please don’t,” I begged, brushing Taigi’s fur. “Each time I think of him, I think of her, pregnant. If I stayed in his life then I would be jealous, and upset, and…forced to see her as long as he wanted to be with me. I just see myself getting hurt, and hurting him in return.”
On top of the fact that I wasn’t even sure if I wanted kids, let alone being step-anything to anyone.
“So you are never going to speak to him again? It’s not his fault, Gwen.”
“I know. I know it’s not his fault. All of this was before me, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be a father, or is one already. I don’t see any room for me. There is no room for me in his life. It’s neither of our fault, but I can’t; I don’t want to spend my life waiting on the sidelines, hoping one day it will be just us.” I tried to laugh, but my voice cracked. “Remember how I said Nathaniel wasn’t the right guy for you? Thank you for telling me to shove it, because I would hate it if I had messed up your life as much as I have mine.”
“You didn’t mess up your life.” She took my hand. “Things just happen, and life is just life. And you were right about Nathaniel back then, he was a tool. He cheated on me.”
“No, he didn’t.” If he had, I was going to kill him.
She nodded, spinning the ring on her finger. “It was a few weeks after I dropped out. I met the girl and punched her right in the face, but I couldn’t face you. I didn’t drop out because of Nathaniel, I dropped out because I couldn’t keep up, and there you were, excelling at the speed of light. I felt like my world was crumbling, and I couldn’t face you or my parents, so I broke up with Nathaniel and worked at a bar that year we didn’t speak. I could have called you at any time, but I just wanted to be on my own. Nathaniel and I had just gotten back together when we became friends again. I never told you because it seemed dumb in hindsight, and I knew you would be upset you hadn’t come earlier.”
“I’m a pretty bad friend. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Stevie, and here I am coming to you now, crying all over your shoulder.”
She shrugged. “You came because you trusted me, and I’m happy. I feel bad that I didn’t trust you enough back then.”
I pulled her into a hug, and we both fell onto the sand, laughing.
“Promise me no matter what, you will tell me if anything happens, all right? And if Nathaniel ever—”
“I got it, I got it. Go, you have your own love life to sort out.”
That was the problem. I had a life, but I no longer had a love life.
Eli
I was a father.
My daughter's name was Sophia May Davenport.
She weighed 3lbs, 4.3oz.
And she was beautiful.
She was even able to breathe on her own, but would not leave the NICU for a while, and she couldn’t come out of her incubator yet. Even so, she was still beautiful. I had spent the last 48 hours next to her. She would need a few more tests, but my mother believed she would make it. Right then, Hannah was in with her, sitting in her wheelchair, while I stood outside, signing papers.
“You look like you’ve had a rough couple of days.”
Hearing her voice made me freeze. I quickly prayed that when I turned around she would be there, and thanked God that she was when I did.
She held up a cup of what smelled like coffee for me.
Ignoring it, I pulled her into my arms…only she didn’t hug me back. She just stood there.
“Guinevere,” I said, breaking free. “I know this is messy and confusing, but I will work it out, I promise you—”
“Eli, it’s okay,” she whispered, placing the cup in my hand. “Don’t worry about me, I’m going to be fine. The only person that should be on your mind is your daughter. Congratulations. I really hope she gets much stronger.”
I hated this, how she smiled and it was so obviously fake, how it felt like she had closed the door on me. She had become cold.
“Guinevere, don’t.” I could feel it coming. “I know I can figure this out. Don’t shut me out. Give me a chance. Give us a chance—”
“Eli, we were just a fling.”
She all but stabbed me with her words, smiling still. “We were two lonely people who found comfort in each other, and now it’s time to get back to reality. You’ve been a great friend to me—”
“Stop it.” I couldn’t listen anymore.
“Eli—”
“Stop saying my name like that, like I never mattered to you. You are lying to my face right now; it’s so clear I feel insulted that you think I wouldn’t notice.”
“National Geographic is starting a new magazine called The Real. I’m going to be leaving for India, and then South Korea, and Russia. I’m going to take pictures all over the world, Eli, and you’re going to be an amazing father. ”
“You are running.” She was running as far as possible from me, and it hurt in ways I couldn’t begin to describe.