“Don’t,” he sighs and presses his forehead against mine. “Don’t give me false hope.”
Gulp. “False hope for what?”
“That maybe one day you’ll look at me the way you looked at him.”
My heart skips a beat. “How do you know the way I looked at him?”
His phone rings, disturbing our intimate moment. I want to smash it but instead I step away to give him some privacy. He looks at me apologetically and puts his phone to his ear.
“I’ll wait in the car.” I have words to erase from my mind.
“We’ll talk later.”
Or never. Never is good too.
Nathan doesn’t take me back to the hotel. He takes me for a long walk around Piccadilly Circus. He even takes a few pictures when I request them and a few when I don’t. It’s great, I love the city. I wish I could spend more time here before the baby arrives. I don’t think pushing a pram around here is such a good idea.
I even manage to get a few pictures of him, which is great because I don’t have any. Even though he doesn’t smile, I still appreciate them.
I don’t want this to end, what we have now. Maybe it’s selfish of me. No maybe about it. It is selfish of me. Nathan’s right, I’ll never look at him the way I looked at Caleb. I’ll never love him the way I loved Caleb, but I’ve come to love him in my own way. He’s my best friend, possibly my only friend right now.
Well, the only friend I have within walking distance.
I care about him a lot, more than I should, and I’m not ready to give him up yet.
I am selfish. I can’t argue with this. Of course I’m not using him but I need him and the thought of his attention being on somebody else makes me feel sick. Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones.
So I walk through the street with my arm around Nathan’s, a smile on my face and a decision made in my mind. Right now I’m not letting him go. Right now he’s mine and I’m going to enjoy that for as long as it lasts.
We arrive home when the sky gets dark. We go to our own rooms and I toss and turn as I try to sleep, missing his heat against my back and hating myself for it.
There’s only one thought that enters my mind before I drift into the land of slumber. We didn’t finish our talk and, for some reason, that makes me sad.
*****
The weeks go by, my due date gets closer and my stomach gets bigger. All is healthy and well in my womb and my body is okay… to the extent that it’s not under any stress. I feel like a whale though.
I knock on Nathan’s bedroom door. It’s eleven and he’s still not down yet. I hope he’s not ill again.
“Come in,” he calls, so I do.
I place his coffee on the trunk at the end of the bed and then sit on the bed. He stands in front of the full length mirror buttoning the sleeves of his white and blue striped shirt.
“You look handsome,” I comment, nursing my cup between my hands, the bottom of it balanced on my stomach. Nathan hates it when I balance things on my stomach, especially hot things. He’s a little bit stressed when it comes to my pregnancy at the moment. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was nervous. “It’s snowing by the way.”
“Seriously?” He doesn’t look happy about this and immediately strolls to the window. I can see the large white flakes from where I’m sitting. “Great. It wasn’t forecast until next week.”
“Yep, they reckon twelve inches minimum in this area.” I smile at the thought. I love the snow. “We can build a snowman.”
“No we can’t.”
I glance at my planet and sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. You can build a snowman and I’ll watch and help you decorate it at the end.”
“No.” He raises his chin, his throat stretching as he buttons his collar. I stand and waddle towards him. “You look adorable when you walk.”
I scowl playfully. “I look like a whale balancing on two toothpicks.”
His smile widens. “At least you’re a pretty whale.”
“You’re not funny. Not in the slightest.”
“And an angry whale,” he jests, his eyes glittering with amusement.
“I will sit on you,” I threaten and pull his tie around his neck. “So, the dear old doctor called this morning. He