“I just can’t…” She rubbed her temples. “I need to think this through. I’m upset about the yard, upset for Jack. I just need some space.”
Space.
“I can give you space,” I said. “Let’s go home. I won’t mention it again, any of it. You can think. We can watch some movies, eat, get an early night… whatever you want.”
She shook her head. “Space, Carl. I just need my own bed. I need to talk to my mum. Probably cry a bit, get it out of my system. You know?”
I knew. Of course I knew.
I made myself smile. “Sure. I’ll take you home.”
I drove in silence and my heart was thumping. So many words I wanted to say, but I’d already said too much. Way too fucking much.
I pictured Rick, waiting at home, waiting for us. He’d be excited, ready to congratulate Katie on an awesome week, and I’d show up alone.
Because I’d blown it. Again.
Because she needed space.
Because, no matter what I said, she was equating my offer of a yard with the need to give me a baby. She was adding it up, working it out, wondering how often I looked at her and saw a womb for sale.
And the answer was I didn’t. Not at all.
Not anymore.
We were outside hers so quickly.
“I could pick you up in the morning,” I said. “Your car is at ours…”
She shook her head. “I can get a lift with Mum to the yard. I can sort out the car later.”
She didn’t unclip her seatbelt, and I almost wished she would, just to get this over with.
“I’m sorry, Carl.”
They always are. Maybe they can see the desperation. Maybe that’s why they’re always so sorry.
“The offer of the yard still stands,” I said. “You could rent it from me, just like you would Jack. That’s what I was thinking. That’s all I was thinking.”
She leaned over and kissed my cheek, and her eyes were wet. “You’re so much nicer than I ever thought you would be.”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment.”
She smiled. “It is.”
“The same applies,” I said.
She squeezed my hand. “Thank you. Your offer was very generous.”
But you don’t want it.
“Goodbye, Katie,” I said.
She unclipped her seatbelt. Opened the door.
“Bye, Carl.”
My heart fucking pained as she walked away. Pain and fear and panic at the thought of Rick’s face as I walked through the door alone. His face as his calls rang to her voicemail, all because I’d spoken too soon.
Because he was right. He always is.
It was way too fucking soon.
I took a breath. Closed my eyes. Waited for my heart to stop fucking pounding.
She was staring at me as I opened them. Her face to the driver’s window. It made me jump.
She tapped on the window and I lowered it.
“You said goodbye. Not bye, or see you, or catch you later. You said goodbye.”
“Isn’t it?”
She pulled a face. “Do you want it to be? Is that how you work? No baby, no more Carl or Rick?”
I shook my head. “No, of course not.”
“Then it isn’t goodbye,” she said, and once again my blue-eyed girl surprised me. “I said I needed my own bed, to talk to my mum, maybe cry a bit. That’s exactly what I meant.”
“I hope so, Katie.”
She ran a finger down my cheek. “You’re quite a sensitive guy under that scary hot exterior, Carl Brooks.”
“Is that a compliment, too?”
“It is,” she said. “This isn’t goodbye, it’s see you later.”
I put the car in gear, forced a smile.
“Then I’ll be seeing you later, Katie.”
“Yes,” she said. “You will.”
I tried to hold on to her smile, cling tight to her see you later, but I’d been here too many times before. Every time I’d convince myself I wasn’t gutted inside, that I wasn’t feeling the clock ticking against my dream, that I wasn’t aching at the thought that it might never happen for me.
But I couldn’t convince myself this time.
She’d been right there, the one for us. I’d seen it in her smile. I’d heard it in her laugh. The way she’d fit so easily between us, so snug, so there. The way my heart raced when she called my name. The way her fingers felt for mine when no one was looking. The way I was so proud of her. So fucking proud.
Those moments I was deep inside her and wanted to stay there, with Rick, both of us together. Fill her up with my baby, our baby, and watch her grow big and beautiful, swollen and glowing