You Know I Need You (You Are Mine #4) - Willow Winters Page 0,42
as he adds, “I love coffee shops and all, but it’d be nice to do something more.”
More.
It would be. I can see it. I can feel it. If my heart didn’t belong to someone else, I could see Jacob being so much more. Well, not only that. I’m going to be a mother. My priorities have nothing to do with dating or starting anything new that doesn’t involve the little life I’m carrying.
“I have to tell you something.” I get the words out before I change my mind and swallow them. Before I give in to getting over Evan by getting under another man.
Jacob visibly winces then scratches the side of his neck as he looks to the right. “That doesn’t sound so good.”
“I kind of lied to you,” I confess, feeling a viselike grip on my heart.
“You’re not separated?” he says.
“No, we are. But I don’t want to be.”
“You still love him. I know you do.”
“There’s more,” I continue, not daring to look him in the eyes, and hesitate.
“Just tell me,” he urges me as if this is going to be easy, moving his hand to mine, and I stare down at where his skin touches mine. It’s gentle, kind. It’s the comfort I desperately need. But I can’t be expected to always have someone to lean on. More than that, I want to stand on my own.
“I’m pregnant,” I tell him and the only reaction I get is that his brow raises just slightly. It’s comical really, and the small movement forces the corners of my lips up. I’d laugh if my heart didn’t hurt as much as it does.
“That, I didn’t see coming,” he responds, keeping a small bit of humor in his voice. Slowly, he pulls his hand away but keeps it on the tabletop. I notice the absence of his touch instantly, though.
“Not far along?” I shake my head no at his question, feeling the end of my ponytail swish around my shoulders. “How long have you known?”
“A while,” I answer honestly.
“So that’s the lie?”
“Yeah … I’m sorry. I never should have kept that from you.”
“Don’t be,” he tells me and waves it off, as if it’s no big deal.
“I knew better. It was just …” I trail off and swallow my words, staring at a stain on the table. One that will never go away.
“It was nice being okay with someone. Right?”
I chance a peek up into his eyes. There’s nothing but understanding there. “Yeah,” I answer him and chew on my bottom lip. “I wanted to pretend to be okay for a little bit.”
“Well it’s not pretend,” he continues and adjusts in his seat. “You can be okay if you want to.” It’s hard to hold his gaze as he brings his hand back to mine.
“Does he know?” I answer his question with a nod, my throat too tight to speak.
“And he …?” he starts to ask, but doesn’t finish the obvious question.
“Says he’s happy but he’s still not with me. He’s not committing and carrying on like he was. I want him, but I need him with me and he’s not …” I’m ashamed of the answer.
It’s quiet for a short moment. The ceramic mug in my hand slides against the wooden table and it’s the only noise to be heard. The itch in my throat matches the prick behind my eyes. I’ve cried enough over all this. It’s been weeks and this is simply how it is. With a sip of my peppermint tea, I accept it.
“So, do you want to go to the movies?” Jacob asks then picks up his mug. “I’d still like to go if you would.”
My heart does this little flutter, a quick flicker of warmth that lets me know it’s still there. It’s gratitude and I think that’s all I could give anyone else. It’s all I’m willing to do.
I shake my head, once again, and give him a sad smile.
“I had to ask. I think it would’ve been good,” he tells me, forcing a smile then covering his disappointment by taking a large sip of the chai.
“You going to be okay?”
I shrug, honestly unsure of whether I’ll ever be okay. “Some people are meant to be alone.” Or waiting for a love that may never come back.
“You sound like me,” he comments with a huff of humor that doesn’t reach his eyes and then he takes a deep, heavy breath. “Gets tiresome, though.”