Like You Mean It

by Jillian Liota

  A single tear tracks down my cheek.

  But maybe the goodness and kindness and love from someone else can help wash some of that away.

  Maybe it won’t be the loud speaker in my ear anymore, but the elevator music in the background.

  I snuggle into my bed, pulling my body pillow tightly to me to help ease some of the discomfort that being pregnant causes, and wishing I had someone’s arms around me. But not just anyone. Someone who loves me.

  Hopefully, that part of Andrew that marked me so aggressively and so darkly and made me feel so worthless will start to fade.

  And then I can use a new brush to paint new colors. Bright, bold colors that cover the old. That turn the old into a new masterpiece.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  COLE

  It’s been 20 days since I told Annie that I have feelings for her. Just under three weeks since I confessed to her that I ended things with someone else because I wanted to be with her.

  And the interactions I’ve had with her have been… stilted? Uncertain? Fragile?

  They’ve been a mess.

  I thought telling Annie that I had feelings for her would be enough to prompt her to really think and reflect on her relationship with Andrew, and that she’d stay in communication with me along the way.

  But I guess I was wrong.

  I don’t know what she’s doing.

  Maybe it’s just as simple as she’s still working through things. Which would be fine. Except I have no idea if that’s the case. If she feels for me as strongly as I feel for her, I can’t imagine it being easy for her to basically stay away from me for almost three weeks. Because on my end it has been absolute torture.

  I know I’m being a little too eager. And I know that three weeks might not be enough time to really think things through. But fuck if I’m not aching for her. For her time, and her attention. Her laughter.

  Her smiles.

  Which is why I find myself walking into The Steam Room tonight, a Saturday in mid-December, for their holiday show.

  When I got the invitation in my mailbox yesterday, I knew Annie wanted me to come. I’d already heard about it from some of the guys at work, as well as seen the huge sandwich board out front announcing the event.

  Live music. Gingerbreadhouse-making station. Free hot cocoa. A Santa Claus. And the thing everyone is most excited about: the ugly sweater competition. The winner gets an iPad.

  The entire 20-stall parking lot is getting shut down out front so vendors can be set up and different stations can be spread out.

  It’s a genius idea for an event. Everyone becomes a joiner around the holidays, and having an event that appeals to every generation, from kids to the elderly, is definitely a way to drum up more business.

  The event runs from 4-9pm tonight, and at just after 6, Alex pulls up in front of my house and drives me over.

  Sure, I could have gone straight from work. But if I’m gonna be seeing the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with for the first time in a few weeks, the last thing I want is to have grease on my hands and smell like oil and sweat.

  “Why are you so fidgety?” Alex asks me as we round the corner on my street and turn on the main road.

  I shrug, trying to keep my cool.

  But all I can think about is the fact that I’m gonna get to see Annie. And probably Jones.

  Jones I’ve seen plenty over the past few weeks. He has been over to swim a few times, and he’s been coming over any time he sees me outside working on my car or bike.

  I always hope that Annie will pop her head out when that happens. That she’ll swing by and say hello. Maybe tell me she’s ready to love me back.

  But I only get an awkward wave here and there. A somewhat friendly hello when we pass each other outside.

  A deep sigh from my left has me turning my head.

  “What?” I ask.

  Alex just shakes his head.

  “I think you’re going about this the wrong way, man.”

  But then he says nothing else.

  I slap his arm.

  “So tell me what you mean, then.”

  “Okay first, you guys are both totally in love with each other, and this stupid you’re not ready for me bullshit is just torture on both of you. Second, it’s the most pussy thing you’ve ever done. To put it completely on her shoulders whether or not you get together. Because that’s literally exactly what you did.”

  My mouth drops open.

  Alex had zero opinions when I told him about what happened after Thanksgiving. He shrugged. Literally. That’s all he did.

  “Where was this advice a few weeks ago?” I ask.

  He shrugs again. Typical.

  “I didn’t think you’d be this stupid. You’re fucking 34 years old. And you put the responsibility for figuring out a relationship on the shoulders of an almost 9-months pregnant chick who already has a 4-year-old kid and is dealing with a dead ex. She’s probably fucking exhausted and doesn’t have the time to sit and moon over you. I shouldn’t be the one telling you that you handled this like an idiot. You should have figured that out already.”

  I clench my fists.

  Well then.

  We pull past The Steam Room to see the outside area is packed with people. It makes me happy that her event is going so well. We drive around the corner and park, then walk back.

  The minute we step onto the property, I’m looking for her. I don’t actually stop to enjoy anything. I just scan every single person I see at every single booth. No luck outside leads me in, but after spending a moment scanning the room that I’m seeing packed with people for the first time, I know my luck hasn’t gotten any better.

  I decide to stand in line for coffee and hope she’ll pop out of the back.

  “What can I… hey!”

  The happy voice of the barista that I recognize has me giving her a smile.

  “Hi Carly,” I say, letting my eyes drop quickly to her nametag so I can try and remember her name. “I’ll take a medium black coffee. And is Annie here?”

  She smiles something mischievous at me.

  “Yep.”

  My brow furrows when she doesn’t continue.

  “And where would I find her?”

  She points a finger into the corner, and when I turn, I see her. She has a walkie-talkie pressed to her mouth and a clipboard in her other hand as she talks to someone dressed in a Santa costume.

  My heart thuds in my chest.

  I’m so in love with her.

  And then I feel arms wrap around my legs.

  When I turn, I see Jones smiling up at me.

  “Hey dude!” I say, reaching down to give him a hug. He wraps his arms tight around my neck, and doesn’t let go when I stand, meaning I definitely lift him up with me.

  I wrap an arm around his legs to hold him up.

  “Come say hi to mom,” he says, pointing to where Annie is working.

  So I use him as my excuse, and I follow his directions over to Annie.

  Her eyes flick to mine as she’s talking to the Santa, and then they look away.

  I stutter step a little bit.

  She barely even acknowledged I exist.

  I shake it off and keep going, and once I’m standing right next to her, and she’s still not talking to me – not even a hello – I wonder if I’ve made a mistake.

  “Mom! Cole’s here!”

  Jones’ sharing of the obvious finally has Annie drifting her attention my way.

  “Hey Annie,” I say, giving her my most charming smile. “You look beautiful.”

  Her responding smile is tight. “Sorry I can’t give you any real attention,” she says. “It’s really busy tonight.”

  Then a voice comes over the walkie-talkie, saying the gingerbread house station is running out of gingerbread.

  “I have to go. Jones, you’re supposed to be staying with Mimi. Did you run off from her?”

  Jones shrugs.

  “I’ll make sure he gets back to her,�
� I say.

  She nods, her face neutral.

  “Can we talk later?” she asks.

  I nod. I’ll take any attention she wants to give me.

  “I’ll be home by 11 at the latest.”

  “Just knock on my door. I’ll be up.”

  And with that, she stalks off.

  “Lets go find Mimi,” I say.

  «««« »»»»

  At 10:45pm, there’s a knock on my door. I’m ready and waiting for her, and when I open the door, and Annie is standing there, looking absolutely breathtaking, massively pregnant, and incredibly exhausted, I lose my breath at just how much I’m in love with her.

  “Come in,” I say, stepping to the side.

  “Thanks.”

  She walks in and heads over to the kitchen, setting her purse down on the counter.

  “Sorry to come over late like this. I’ve been meaning to come talk to you, but I’ve been so busy with this Christmas event. I think these might be the first free moments I’ve had in two solid weeks.”

  I wave her comment away, pretending it’s not a big deal that she’s been so busy. Like I haven’t been hoping for the scraps of her attention.

  “So what did you want to talk about?” I ask.

  Please say it’s us. Please say it’s us.

  “It’s about us,” she says, and I have to hold back my cry of triumph. Finally. Finally she is going to tell me she’s ready.

  “Okay,” I say instead.

  She sighs.

  “I spent 8 years with Andrew,” she says. “8 years of living how he wanted things. I played by his rules. I did what he said. And the handful of times, early on, that I was brave enough to ask for what I wanted, he put me in my place as quickly as he could.”

  She turns her head and looks out the window.

  “I refuse to be in a relationship like that ever again.”

  My brow furrows. What?

  She takes a step closer to me.

  “I am mad over you. Deep in my soul, absolutely insane for you. And I have felt like that since practically the day we met. And now that we’re both free from other commitments, you want to take your time so you can plant your grass – which, news flash, I don’t even know what that means and I’m just hoping it doesn’t mean you’re sleeping around right now – while you’ve been playing dad with my son.”

  She takes another step closer, and I see a fire burning in her eyes that I’ve never seen before.

  “Cole, I won’t have another man jerking my son around. He spent the first years of his life being promised things and then getting let down. And I don’t want that to happen again. So either you’re in this, or you’re out. I won’t have an in between. Either you love us and want us to be something, or you don’t. And I’m sorry if this speech puts you off. But for the first time, I feel like its okay for me to take charge of my life, and I will not be in a relationship with someone who gets upset when I ask for what I want.”

  She stops then. She’s breathing heavily, and I can tell that it cost her something to share that with me. But it was beautiful. And it was honest. And it was everything I ever hoped to hear from her.

  This time, I’m the one who takes a step closer. And then another and another, until we are flush against each other, her large pregnant belly pressing into my navel, my face inches from hers once I bend down slightly.

  “Annie. I’m absolutely, madly, crazy in love with you. I’m all in with you and Jones and Diana. And I would never ask you to hide what you want from me. I can’t promise that I will always be able to give it to you, but I can promise that making you happy will be the greatest joy I will ever experience.”

  I put my hands on either side of her face.

  “Now. Shut up and let me kiss you.”

  The beginnings of a smile spark on her face, but I don’t see the whole thing because I’ve closed my eyes and pressed my lips against hers.

  Her gasp is like a choir of angels. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. That is, until her mouth opens and our tongues meet, and she lets out a soft little moan. And then that takes the cake.

  I continue to hold her face, my thumbs stroking her cheeks, grazing her neck, caressing her collarbone. I let one hand lift to press into the back of her head, to push our mouths closer together.

  Our tongues dance, wet and wanting, in a sloppy but purposeful movement that is just pure fucking bliss.

  “I love you,” she whispers, her hands going into my hair, pulling it out of the low ponytail and digging into the mass.

  She pulls back then.

  “I’m pregnant,” she says.

  And I laugh. The sexual tension drifts away, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her as close as I can while she smuggles a basketball.

  “I’m very aware,” I say.

  She gives me a slap, but there’s no heat behind it.

  “I know you know. I just…” she blushes and pulls back slightly. “I can’t really… like, do anything with you. I just don’t feel sexy.”

  My smile just grows.

  “Annie, girl. I think everything about you is sexy.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “You can roll those gorgeous eyes all you want, and what I picture is the day when I get to make you roll those eyes back because I’m giving you the best orgasm of your life.”

  Her jaw drops slightly at my crudeness.

  “But if that day doesn’t come until months after Diana is born, I’m completely unconcerned.”

  She smiles at that.

  “Hopefully not months,” she says, her voice a whisper again.

  I put my hands back to either side of her face, kiss her forehead, her nose her mouth. “Whatever it is, that’s just what it is.” I say. “We have a really long time ahead of us where we’ll be able to have all of the raunchy, dirty sex that you’ve been dreaming about since you met me.”

  She laughs at that.

  “I definitely had a sexy daydream about you once,” she says, and I can tell she’s terribly embarrassed.

  “Only once?” I ask. “I’ve been having sex dreams about you for longer than I should admit.”

  Her eyes get this kind of glassy, starry-eyed thing going on all of a sudden.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I just can’t believe this is real,” she says. “That you’re right here, kissing me and holding me and telling me you love me.”

  I take her hand and tug her over to my living room, where I settle us into the couch. It takes a few minutes for us to find the most comfortable position for Annie, but we do find it.

  “Annie, I just want to be clear about something, okay?”

  She nods, her eyes big as she awaits what I’m about to share. And I know I have to tell this to her now, and make sure she really understands.

  “This, between you and me, it’s just going to keep getting better and better.”

  She laughs at that.

  “Annie, I’m not kidding.”

  At my protest, her laugh fades. And I think she realizes what I’m telling her is serious.

  “You spent almost a decade with someone, and from the sounds of it, things got worse and worse. But with you and me, it’s just going to keep getting better. Every single day, you and I are going to fall more and more in love. We’re gonna know each others’ stupid secrets, and finish each others’ sentences. We’re gonna poop in front of each other, and fart, and laugh and cry. I’ll buy you tampons and you’ll get me rogaine once my hair starts falling out.”

  I run my thumb along her brow and lean in to place a kiss there.

  “We’re gonna raise your amazing fucking kids together. And they’re gonna be our kids. And we’ll watch them get married and have families someday. When I tell you this is getting better and better, I’m not blowing smoke at you. I’m not trying to make empty promises. I mean every single word that I say.”

  Her eyes are welling with tears now, and I lean forward to kiss away the few drops that have fallen slowl
y down her cheeks.

  “You and Jones,” and then I set a hand on her stomach, “and Diana, are everything I could ever want in this life. I’ve never known the happiness I feel when I’m with you. And if you let me, I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life dedicated to making you even a fraction as happy as I am.”

  She smiles at me.

  “I love you, Cole,” she whispers. “I love your heart, and your soul. I love who you are to my son. To me.”

  She presses her face into my neck.

  “Thank you for saving us.”

  I shake my head at her. “I didn’t save you. Both of us were drowning before we met. Drowning in fear and regret and wishing for something different and better.” I take her hand in mine. “Two drowning people can’t save each other. They can only sink together.” I lean in and kiss her softly on the lips. “But your smile was the sun that drove away the rain. It dried up the water that was dragging us down. The rays of sun in your smile gave me what I needed to plant my own grass.”

  I laugh. “I feel like everyone I know thinks the grass is always greener somewhere else. They want everything new and shiny and better. But they’re never happy. They’re never satisfied. But loving you makes me want to plant my own grass. Make this life I have a happy one, just for us. I don’t care about anyone else’s fucking field. Just ours.”

  She smiles at me. Really fucking smiles. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Radiance. Joy. Pure happiness pours from her eyes and her soul.

  I lean over and kiss her again.

  “That smile – when you smile like you mean it – is all the happiness I’ll ever need in this life.”

  I wrap my arms around her and tug her as close as I can. And I plan to never let her go.

  EPILOGUE ONE

  ANNIE

  … three months later …

  I look at myself in the mirror and take a deep, deep breath, then let it out as slowly as possible. The nerves that are rushing through my body are creating quite the flutter in my stomach. I shake my palms to try and steady myself a little bit, then take another deep breath.