by Leigh Landry
But now it was time to wrap it up. Kelsey had been glancing at the clock for the past ten minutes. Probably had to work in the morning. It had been so nice to feel like things were normal between them again. Even for a little while. He didn’t know what was going on with her the last few weeks, but he hoped she’d feel safe enough to let him know at some point what was bothering her.
He hoped he could earn at least that.
“Me too.” Kelsey tore off the top sheet of the legal pad. She’d been jotting down notes while he tinkered on the piano. Emotional beats to hit. Questions, title ideas, and potential hooks. Chord progressions. Her own shorthand language of rhythmic notation that was unlike anything he’d ever seen from anyone else, drummers included. Her notes were uniquely Kelsey. He could sit there and marvel at them all day.
“So when do you want to meet again?” He wanted to ask her to come over again tomorrow, but he didn’t want to scare her off. Plus, he knew she needed time to work on the lyrics on her own for a while. “Next Friday? Or next Saturday after that gig?”
“Don’t you have plans or something?” She hesitated. “With Bria?”
Eric’s stomach dropped. He’d been trying to find a way to bring this up all night, and now that the topic had fallen into his lap, he didn’t know what to say.
Correction: he knew exactly what to say. He was just scared to say it. All of it.
“We broke up.”
“Oh.” Kelsey looked shocked. Eric wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he had a string of steady, long-term relationships under his belt besides Kelsey and Bria. There had been lots of women, lots of men too, but nothing more than a hookup or brief fling. He’d only been trying to numb the pain and loneliness he felt. But it never worked for long.
“Sorry, I thought you two had history or…I don’t know. Sorry.”
History. Sure, he and Bria had history. But it had been ancient history. It had been nice to reminisce about high school and old friends and good times with her. She was fun. They got along. But none of that was enough to sustain an actual relationship. Certainly not enough to surpass the kind of history he had with Kelsey. His feelings for Bria—or anyone else, for that matter—could never come close to what he felt for Kelsey.
“It’s fine. I’m not sad. It had to end.”
“I thought you two were getting along? I mean, last I heard.”
“We were. But it was never going to work.”
“Why not?” She tilted her head in curiosity, then shook it and said, “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
Eric turned and straddled the piano bench so he could face her sitting in the chair next to him. “Actually, it’s exactly your business.” He took her strong hands in his, ignoring the look of panic she flashed at his touch. It pained him, but he knew he deserved it.
Sure, she’d shut down and shut him out after the miscarriage. But she’d been hurting, and he’d known that. He never should have walked away and left her to deal with that pain on her own. He’d hurt her by doing that, and he deserved the reminder now.
But he had to let her know how he felt.
He held her hands until her shoulders relaxed and she looked him in the eye, her steel blue gaze guarded but curious. “It was never going to work, because she wasn’t you. No one else will ever be you. The last few months have only made it clear how much I want you in my life again, Kel.”
Her mouth hung open, caught somewhere between shock and needing desperately to tell him something. He waited, but she only closed her mouth and stared at him.
So he continued.
“I love our friendship. I don’t want to ruin that,” he said. “But I don’t want to miss a chance to be with you. I know I don’t deserve it. Not now, at least, and maybe I don’t deserve it ever again. I know I let you down. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most. But I want to earn another chance to show you what you mean to me. To earn your trust and love again.”
Her face was pale, paler than normal, and her skin had that tint of green again. But she bit her glossy peach lip and took a deep breath, and the color slowly came back to her face. Her cheeks tinted pink and her eyes glittered to life again. He saw all of his own fears reflected in her eyes. Fear that they couldn’t do this. Fear that they would hurt each other all over again. Fear that they would ruin everything this time in some irreparable explosion.
But he also saw hope. The same hope that was overwhelming his senses and had him inching toward her. He put his hand on the side of her face and leaned forward to meet her lips with his own. Softly. The familiar sweetness of her mouth warmed his entire body and soul as she relaxed against him and returned his kiss.
He held her soft face in both hands and kissed her harder, more urgently, desperate to recapture all of those weeks without her. Even all of the weeks and months before the last time they were together. Because this was what he wanted. Kelsey. Only Kelsey. Every day. For the rest of his days.
She pulled back suddenly though, removing his hands from her face and holding them in her own. Her eyes were a swirling swamp of confusion now. Her face flushed, her lips still plump with desire. He wished he could read her thoughts. No matter how much he feared them.
“I should go,” was all she said.
She released his hands and stood, placing her pencil and the legal pad on the piano and folding her sheet of notes as she hurried for the door.
“Kelsey, wait.” His brain scrambled for the right words, the magical words that would make her stay. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make—”
“No, it’s fine,” she stammered, barely turning to look back at him in her rush to escape. “I just…I should go.”
And with that, she was gone. Like smoke through his fingers. He looked at his palms. He’d held her in them moments ago, and she’d slipped away. She’d run away. He couldn’t blame her. She didn’t owe him anything, and he’d known going in that this was a lost cause. He’d never win her back.
But for one fleeting moment, he’d held her. And he’d held hope.
Chapter 4
Kelsey scribbled in her spiral notebook. Scratched out her scribbles. Scribbled some more. Scratched those notes out as well.
She grimaced at the page. It was crap. Along with all the rest of the crap she’d written down that day. Even on her worst writing days—lyrics, poems, stories, anything—the words were better than this. It was like she was growing a brain-sucking alien in her belly instead of a baby.
Maybe.
Nothing in this life was guaranteed. Not your brain spitting out a song. Not parents or a family. Not a baby. Not the man you love sticking around.
I want to show you what you mean to me. To earn your trust and love again.
Did he really mean that? She didn’t think for one second that he was lying to her, but was he lying to himself?
Her brain was a mess. The more she tried not to think about everything Eric said two nights ago, the more her brain obsessed about it.
She sighed heavily, then ripped the page out of the notebook, crumpled it, and tossed it on the coffee table. Her turtle, safe beneath the removable, Plexiglas tabletop, stretched his neck up toward the ball of paper beside three other crumpled pages of discarded crap. After a few twists and turns of his head, he went back to work, patrolling the mesh wire walls of his giant coffee table terrarium.
Kelsey had no other choice. She’d have to back out of this whole songwriting thing. Robin would understand. Kelsey wouldn’t even have to tell her about the pregnancy, just that it wasn’t working out. Or maybe she could tell her that Camille had been the genius in all their partnerships. It wouldn’t be a lie.
A steady knock on her apartment door momentarily saved her from her spiraling mediocrity mope. Kelsey glanced at her phone for a missed message, since she wasn’t expecting anyone. She was almost never expecting anyone. Especially not on a Sunday afternoon.
When she looked through the peephole, she shook her head and opened the door. Natalie w
as flashing a giant smile.
“No Cadence?” Kelsey asked.
“Dropped her off at her dad’s on the way. You’re stuck with just me tonight.” Natalie took her arms from behind her back and held them up along with her offering—box of saltines, a can of loose herbal tea, and a package of sour candy straws. “Up for a movie?”
“Nope. But I’ve got a better idea.” Kelsey nodded inside. “I was just about to kill stuff.”
Kelsey and Natalie might have come from very different backgrounds and dealt with life in very different ways, but they did have one reliable shared self-care activity: video games.
“Sweet!” Natalie made a beeline for the living room, but paused before sitting on the couch. “That thing always creeps me out.”
“That thing has a name.”
“I know. Which one is he again?”
“Michelangelo.” Eric had given the turtle and the custom terrarium to her two years ago for her thirtieth birthday, because he knew she loved turtles. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. Unfortunately, as much as she loved the little guy, he was a permanent reminder of Eric right in her living room.
Natalie chuckled and scratched at the mesh while the turtle hobble-ran over to her side. “The loud, flashy one who always wants attention. Just like the man who gave it to you. I should remember that.” She frowned and gave Kelsey a sideways glance. “Is this thing even safe?”
“We’ve had this discussion. He doesn’t have teeth.”
“No, I mean with you pregnant and all.”
“It’s fine,” Kelsey assured her. She’d done more than her fair share of research after her miscarriage, wondering if she’d done something wrong. As much as she loved this guy, she wouldn’t put herself at risk again if it was a concern. “He just has to stay in his cage now, and I wear disposable gloves to clean it and wash my hands a bunch. I was already careful about that anyway. No one likes salmonella.”
Later, she might have to figure out how to keep things safe with a toddler running around, but that was a potential problem for Future Kelsey. She had enough current problems on her plate for now.
“Salmonella?” Natalie shrieked.
“It’s fine.” Kelsey handed Natalie a video controller. “Are we doing this or what?”
Natalie gave her a concerned look, but took the controller. They chose their players and weapons, then jumped right in, furiously taking out their day’s frustrations on the controller buttons and the imaginary creatures on the screen.
“So, no Shane either tonight?” Kelsey asked during the break between levels.
“Does he look attached to my hip?”
Kelsey leaned back on the couch to examine Natalie from behind. “Nope. You’re right.”
“Pfft,” Natalie said. “You know me better than that.”
“I also know how much you like Shane. Despite all your protesting.”
“Yeah, I do. We hung out yesterday. We’re good. I promise. Taking things slow.” She frowned. “Still feels too fast for me some days, but he’s fine when I take a step back. Which pisses me off.”
“Why would that piss you off?”
“Because it makes me not want to take things slow.”
Kelsey laughed. “Fair enough.”
The game started up again. Once Kelsey was unfairly distracted, Natalie asked, “So how was Friday night?”
“Fine.”
“Just fine?” Natalie hit pause on the game, then flicked a balled-up piece of paper across the center couch cushion. “Oh yeah. Totally looks fine.”
“It’s fine.”
“We’ve discussed how much you suck at lying,” Natalie said. “Seriously, it’s not your thing.”
Kelsey batted the ball of crappy, discarded lyrics back toward Natalie. “Clearly I don’t know what my thing is anymore. I’m gonna call Robin and tell her I can’t do this.”
“You’ll get it. I know you will. But that’s not what I meant when I asked about Friday night.”
“I know what you meant,” said Kelsey. “That was fine, too.”
“Lies.”
“Yeah.”
Natalie turned to face Kelsey on the couch. “Did you tell him?”
“No.” Kelsey recoiled and shook her head adamantly. “Not yet. I told you why.”
“Yeah, I know. Just checking.” She studied Kelsey’s face. “So it was just awkward then? Oh God, did he talk about what’s-her-face?”
“No.” Kelsey held up a finger. “Wait, yes.”
“Ugh.”
“No, not like that,” Kelsey said. “They broke up.”
“That’s…good?” Natalie raised her voice in a question, clearly testing Kelsey’s reaction to the news.
“No, not good.” She took a deep breath, running her thumb over the buttons on the controller still in her hand. “He wants to try again. Us.”
“Oh,” Natalie said. She processed the information, then repeated, “Oh!”
“Do not get excited here. This changes nothing.”
“What do you mean? This changes everything.”
Kelsey shook her head adamantly. “He might think it does, but not for me. It doesn’t change the past, and it doesn’t change the fact that I will never be enough for him.”
All the hookups while they were broken up—the women he dated, the men he slept with—didn’t mean anything to her. His biggest mistake with those, in her mind, was that he could have been a little more discreet about them around her. Watching him make plans to hook up with people after their gigs had been an icy knife to her heart every time.
But he’d had every right to do whatever he wanted while they weren’t together. The thing that had bothered her the most was how easy it had been for him to walk away in the first place.
“Isn’t that what he’s trying to tell you, though?” Natalie said. “That he wants to try again, that you are what he wants?”
“Sure. But that’s not enough. Not for him. And not for me.”
Natalie sighed. “I don’t get it. You two belong together. You both love each other. You want to be together.” She cut off Kelsey when she opened her mouth to object. “Yes, I know you don’t want to get hurt again. But you do love him and want to be with him. Right?”
Kelsey closed her mouth and nodded. More than anything.
No, that wasn’t true.
More than anything, she wanted to stop hurting. To feel safe and secure with someone. To feel like she was wanted.
Natalie reached beside her and handed Kelsey the grocery bag she’d brought with her. She pulled out the package of sour straws and tossed it in Kelsey’s lap. “Here, maybe some sugar will help your answer.”
Kelsey ripped open the package appreciatively. She didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but she couldn’t resist a sour treat. Especially lately.
She froze.
Sugar. That was it.
She dropped the package in her lap and snatched her notebook. She scribbled furiously, desperate to get the thoughts down before they disappeared.
When she got everything out of her head and into the notebook, she put it down again. “Sorry. Got an idea for the first verse I was stuck on.”
Natalie nodded. “I figured it was something to do with that.” She paused. “So the songwriting is going okay? You guys working well together?”
“Yeah. On both.” Working well together had never been a problem. It also wasn’t going to be the answer to their problems.
“So where do you guys go from here?” Natalie asked. “I mean, now that he wants to try again. Maybe you should tell him?” That lift in her voice again. The hopeful tilt in pitch.
“Plan is still the same. In fact, it makes it more important that I don’t tell him.”
Natalie tilted her head in confusion. “Why? I thought you were keeping quiet because of the girlfriend and all that. I mean, I know you’re scared about what could happen, but if he’s willing to be by your side through it…”
“That’s just i
t,” Kelsey argued. “I know he’ll be by my side if I tell him about the pregnancy.” Him and his moral fucking code. Eric had been raised by a gigantic family of God-fearing folks. They’d found a way to blend his religious beliefs and upbringing with her personal brand of skeptically inclusive spiritualism, but from the moment she’d brought up the pregnancy last time, everything shifted into this new high gear with him. “I don’t want to be an obligation. I don’t want him with me because of the pregnancy.”
“But Kel, isn’t he telling you he wants to be with you now, even though he doesn’t know about the pregnancy?”
“Sure, he says that. But I don’t believe it. Not really. I believe he’s sincere, but I don’t know if he’s being honest with himself.” She sighed heavily. “I’m afraid it’s just his guilt talking. And that will all be muddied even more if he finds out I’m pregnant. Then I’ll never know the truth. I’ll never know if he really wants to be with me, or if he wants the whole package with a side of absolution.”
Natalie frowned, but nodded. “So what are you going to tell him? You know he isn’t just going to let this go. At least not until he gets a straight answer from you.”
She was right. Kelsey couldn’t avoid his texts and questions forever.
“You should call him. Tell him you aren’t ready to commit to anything yet. He just got out of a relationship and you aren’t a rebound. Blah, blah, blah, that stuff.”
Kelsey glanced at the clock on the wall. “I can’t yet. He’s at his mom’s.”
“And you know this because you’re psychic?”
“I know this because he’s at his mom’s every Sunday. Church, then lunch and family. Every week.”
As if he could hear them discussing his future, Eric’s name flashed on Kelsey’s muted phone.
Natalie whistled. “Damn, he’s good. Or at least his timing is spot-fucking-on.”