still on the road. “I have…a little. I’m so tired of the winters here, and honestly, I think we need a change.”
I can’t move. Not with this baby. He’s Weston’s too. Weston might want to be part of his life. I can’t drag his child thousands of miles across the country. This nightmare is turning into an even bigger mess.
I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt, let him tell me why he wants to do this. “What do you mean, ‘we need a change’?”
“Well, to be honest, I think you need a change. You haven’t been happy. I can see it, Ella.”
He’s right. But he has no idea.
He doesn’t look at me, his eyes still glued to the road. “And this whole thing with Weston…it really has done a number on you. I think it would do you good to move as far away from him as possible. I’d move you to New Zealand if I could.”
My stomach drops at the sound of Weston’s name. It would be so easy to run away. If I didn’t have a part of him inside me, it’s what I would do. I would do it tomorrow.
The tears make their way down my cheeks as I tell Gabe, “But we can’t run away… from our jobs, our friends, our families.”
He shoots me a look, confusion clouding his features. “I’m sorry, Ella. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought…”
I wipe my cheek with the heel of my hand. “I know.”
Every now and then, when Gabe is out of the house, I scurry down to the basement and I open the box of old books I have in storage. I pull out What to Expect When You’re Expecting. I’m not sure why I’ve kept it, knowing I wouldn’t be having any more babies. Nostalgia, I suppose. I flip to the second month portion. I’m at eight and a half weeks now. According to my book, the baby is starting to look like an actual human being.
I wonder who he or she will look like. Will he have my dark brown eyes or Weston’s beautiful light green eyes? Will she inherit my freckles or Weston’s chin dimple? Will he be broad and lanky like him, or smaller like me?
I haven’t seen Gwen lately. She’s been too busy hanging out at the beach and playing golf, but I’ve talked to her a lot. I’ve confessed that I still haven’t told Gabe. I’ve even confided that I desperately want to tell Weston — I think he should know I’m carrying his child.
She keeps telling me this is a horrible idea, pleading with me to not contact him, under any circumstances.
She is such a drama queen.
I’ve been treasuring the precious moments I have with the girls, feeling like we’re all living on borrowed time. We’ve been playing dress-up, having tea parties, playing board games, and doing puzzles.
A sweet little game of dress-up… this is how this all started. If I hadn’t been in my closet that day, if Claire hadn’t chosen that beautiful pink vintage dress, if I hadn’t decided to go out on a special date with Gabe, I would never be here today, with another man’s child inside me. I would still be here, of course, in this house, but I wouldn’t have a care in the world. My biggest worries would be trivial — the girls’ report cards, getting my spring cleaning done, catching the specials at Costco, and getting my taxes in on time.
My world wouldn’t be completely torn apart.
In an attempt to distract myself, I’ve been taking the girls for story time at Hanna’s Book and Treasures, my old hang out. It’s a quaint little coffee shop and book store where I used to work when I first moved here. And I’ve also managed to come here for a cup of coffee and read all by myself, just once or twice. I really need the peaceful atmosphere of this place because I have so much going on sometimes I think I’m literally going to explode. Occasionally I read, and sometimes I just stare off into the distance. My eyes are always drawn to this antique bunny pushing a wheelbarrow. And the vintage plates too, with their serene country scenes; red barns set against fields of flowers. Hanna, the owner, must think I’ve gone slightly bonkers. She’s not far off, if she does.
It’s just another ordinary Tuesday morning when Gwen does an unexpected pop-in and barges into my house. She shoots