to go. I watched as they got in his car and pulled away.
When Chris started making his way down the hill, I should have been relieved to finally have that alone time with him, but I was devastated. Chris sat down next to me on the blanket and handed me a bottle of water.
I loved Chris. I was going to have his baby, even though I hadn’t told him that yet. But I felt guilty because in all the time Chris and I had been dating, he’d never once given me a look that trickled down my spine. I was scared I’d never feel that again. I was scared I was wrong and that maybe I loved Chris, but maybe I wasn’t in love with him.
He put his arm around me. “Babe? What’s wrong?”
I wiped at my eyes, blew out a breath, and said, “I’m pregnant.”
I didn’t wait for Chris’s reaction. I immediately stood up and cried the entire walk back to his car. Even then, I was blaming the tears on hormones. On finding out I was pregnant. I blamed the tears on everything besides what actually caused them.
The next day, Jonah told Jenny he wanted to move in with his sister and go to college in Minnesota. He packed up his things, bought a plane ticket, and didn’t even come tell me or Chris goodbye.
Chris and Jenny were so upset that Jonah had selfishly up and left, but as I was more stunned by the news that I was pregnant, I didn’t really have time to care about Jonah leaving. For the next several weeks, I mended Jenny’s heartache and forced Chris to focus on us and my pregnancy, rather than the best friend who had abandoned him. I tried not to give Jonah another thought.
Little did I know, that routine would go on for a long time. Me being Chris’s devoted wife, taking care of his house and his daughter and his needs. Me being loyal to my little sister, helping her study her way through nursing school, cleaning up the messes she made of her twenties, giving her a place to stay every few years when she’d need help getting back on her feet.
The day I found out I was pregnant, I stopped living life for myself.
I think it’s time I figure out who I was meant to become before I started living my life for everyone else.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CLARA
Despite knowing I just pissed my mother off by being half an hour late for curfew, I still can’t stop smiling. That kiss with Miller was worth it. I bring my fingers to my lips.
I’ve never been kissed like that. The guys I kissed in the past all seemed like they were in a hurry, wanting to shove their tongue in my mouth before I changed my mind.
Miller was the opposite. He was so patient, yet in a chaotic way. It was like he’d thought about kissing me so often that he wanted to savor every second of it.
I don’t know that I’ll ever not smile when I think about that kiss. It kind of makes me nervous for school tomorrow. I’m not sure where that kiss leaves us, but it felt like it was a statement. I just don’t know what exactly that statement was.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket. I roll over and pull it out, then fall onto my back again. It’s a text from Miller.
Miller: I don’t know about you, but sometimes when something significant happens, I get home and think of all the things I wish had gone differently. All the things I wish I would have said.
Me: Is that happening now?
Miller: Yes. I don’t feel like I was entirely forthcoming with you.
I roll onto my stomach, hoping to ease the nausea that just passed through me. It was going so well . . .
Me: What weren’t you honest about?
Miller: I was honest. Just not entirely forthcoming, if there’s a difference. I left a lot out of our conversation that I want you to know.
Me: Like what?
Miller: Like why I’ve liked you for as long as I have.
I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. I’m staring at my phone with so much intensity that I almost throw it when it rings unexpectedly. It’s Miller’s phone number. I hesitate before answering it, because I rarely ever talk on the phone. I much prefer texting. But he knows I have my phone in my hand, so I can’t very well send it