cork.
She waggles her eyebrows and grins as she gives the glasses a quick rinse and wipe down. “Not only is it okay, but I think it should be mandatory for us to drink champagne anytime we’re home alone.”
“Kal, I’m serious.”
Her head pops up from the glass she’s wiping and at the discomfort in my expression, her smile dims. “What’s wrong?”
I frown, exasperated. but wary of being one of those men who thinks he knows more about these things than the woman it’s happening to. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do with your body or anything, and I don’t know if the rules are different now -”
She puts the glasses down and her brows draw together in a bemused furrow. “Remi, what are you talking about?”
“I didn’t think drinking was allowed in your condition.” The words are stilted and clipped.
She narrows her eyes in confusion, rests both hands on the counter, and leans toward me. “What condition?”
I lean toward her, too my “I thought…you’re late. Your period, I mean… your… surprise.” The last word comes out in a croak as the realization of my error - the magnitude and completely unforced nature of it – hits me like a high speed train.
Her annoyance is replaced by a look of stunned surprise.
“You think I’m pregnant?” She shakes her head and laughs in disbelief. Her incredulity is palpable as my own and the compounding weight of it is terrible.
“I take it you’re not.” I say and start pulling food cartons out of the bag in front of me.
“Most certainly, not.” The note of relief in her voice is like a slap in the face.
“Remi…are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I lie because I’m not sure what to say. I wish I was anywhere but, in this kitchen, right now. I’m not entitled to my disappointment – I jumped to an apparently farfetched conclusion. But I can’t help how deeply I feel it.
“Wait…” She reaches over the island; takes the container of food I’m holding out of my hand and links our fingers. “We need to talk about this.”
The worry in her voice makes me feel even worse. I meet her eyes and force a smile. “I’m an idiot. You said you had a surprise, and my imagination ran away from me.”
Her expression only grows more pained and she doesn’t say anything. The loaded silence acts like a counterweight on my forced smile. So, I drop it and let her see my discomfort. “Please, forget I said anything.” I plead and tug my hand free of hers to continue unpacking the food.
She sighs deeply “I can’t forget it, Remi…I’m not late. At least, I don’t think I am.” I watch her through my lashes as she walks over to the counter where her phone is laying and scrolls through it. Suddenly, her eyebrows shoot up and she frowns “Hmmm. Well look at that, You’re right. I’m late.”
The stubborn hope revived, food forgotten, I move to stand beside her and crane my head to peer at her screen. “So…I’m right?”
She worries her bottom lip and then looks up at me. The grimace that tightens her expression answers my question before she shakes her head in the universal sigh for no. “I started a new pill, the one I was on was making me nauseous. and my cycle changed. But I’m not pregnant.”
This second wave of disappointment mingles with the sense of betrayal churning in my gut. I take a huge step away from her and brace myself against the counter. “You’re on the pill?”
Chapter 2
Kal
Take your shot
Remi’s question and the barbed implication of it are like a stab in the heart. He’s so handsome, it takes my breath away every time I look at him. But right now, it’s the Pandora’s box I’ve unwittingly opened that makes my lungs constrict.
His midnight eyes are full of something I haven’t seen there in a very long time – disillusionment.
Disconcerted and fretful, I have to clear my throat before I can answer the question he asked. “I thought you knew that. I’ve always been on the pill.”
“Oh.” He flinches like I slapped him. “Okay. My bad.” He walks away and starts pulling plates and cutlery from the drawers.
Shaken, I run a hasty and frantic search through my memory trying to understand where this dissonance came from. We’ve never talked about having a family, and after the tumult of the last two years, I’ve been too busy basking in the banality of stillness and static. But clearly, I’ve also