by Staci Hart
His hands slipped under the hem of her shirt, finding her silky skin hot and smooth under his rough fingers. He pushed the cotton up her ribs, and she pulled away smiling, raising her arms so he could dispatch it for good. She followed suit, undressing him slowly as he undressed her, neither speaking, no urgency to be found. Just the simple pleasure of touch, of being together, of wanting someone as they wanted you with no demands or expectations.
Every touch was a quiet worship, every kiss a reverent promise. Their bodies joined with a whisper, and as their hearts beat harder, they came with a cry, body and soul, together.
A Single Moment
TWO WEEKS LATER, JOSIE BREATHED deep and smiled, her eyes still closed as sleep slipped away from her. She sighed and shifted, curling against Jon. He stirred and pulled her closer.
They lay there, heavy and still in the early morning. Jon buried his face in her hair.
“Mmmm,” he hummed, and she smiled wider, cracking her eyes.
“Morning,” she said, her voice husky.
“What time is it?” he asked into her neck.
Josie glanced over at her clock. “Seven-thirty.”
He groaned. “I don’t want to leave this bed, Jo.”
She rolled over to face him. “That wouldn’t be very productive.”
“No, but it’d be a hell of a lot better than digging through trash.”
“That’s what’s on the agenda for today?”
“It’s trash day. I’m gonna smell terrible by the time I’m done tearing through my client’s ex-husband’s garbage like a raccoon.”
She laid her arm across his broad chest. “Well, I’ve got a shower with your name on it when you’re finished.”
Jon’s eyes went hot, and his lips tipped into a smile. “I think I just might take you up on that, darlin’.” He pulled her onto his chest and kissed her. “Oh, how I wish it wasn’t garbage day.”
She giggled and gave him a peck. “Come on, trash man. The sooner you go, the sooner you come back.”
He sighed. “All right, all right.”
She rolled off of him and pulled on her sleep shorts and a t-shirt. She turned to catch sight of him stretching with his fists in the air, the muscles of his back bulging and shifting as he let out a groan.
Her cheeks were warm, and she smiled. “You hungry?”
He stepped into his jeans. “Yeah, but I really have to get going.”
“How about coffee?”
“Make it to-go and you’ve got yourself a deal.” He winked at her, and she practically swooned.
Josie opened her door and made her way into the kitchen. The coffee pot was already full, and Anne sat on the couch with her laptop open.
“Hey,” Anne called over her shoulder.
“Good morning,” Josie chimed as she poured a cup of coffee into a travel mug.
Anne snickered. “Look at you, all chipper.”
“Am I?”
“You sang ‘good morning’ like Snow White. Are you going to break into song?”
Josie snorted. “You should really hope not.”
“Are you kidding? You do the best drunken karaoke When Doves Cry, maybe in the history of the world.”
Jon walked into the kitchen, twisting his hair back into a tiny ponytail, and Josie handed him a chrome travel mug once his hands were free. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, honey.”
“You’re welcome, dear,” she said sweetly.
Anne chuckled and shook her head.
Jon took a sip of his coffee. “Mornin’, Anne.”
“Howdy, Jon,” she said with a wave over her shoulder.
He reached for Josie’s hand and pulled her toward the door.
She stepped into the hallway, smiling up at him. “I’ll see you in a few hours. Be careful, okay?”
He bent down and brushed his lips to hers. “I promise. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Happy hunting,” she sang.
Jon touched her cheek and turned to go, and she leaned on the door frame, shamelessly watching his ass as he walked away.
She sighed again and closed the door once he was out of sight, turning to find Anne appraising her with an arched eyebrow.
“What?” Josie asked.
Anne shook her head. “You’ve got it so bad, Jo.”
Josie giggled and flopped down on the couch. “Ugh, I know. What is the matter with me?”
Anne rolled her eyes and flailed her hands. “You’re in loooooove!”
“Shut up, jerk. Don’t make fun of me.”
Anne laughed and gave Josie a look that said she knew a thing or two. “It’s nice. It’s actually really nice. Look at you. You’re blushing, though it’s not like Jon hasn’t always been able to do that to you.”
“I feel like my insides are unstable.”
“Honestly, I’m so glad you two just went for it. Watching you guys pine over each other was making me crazy. I can’t even imagine what it was like living that.”
“Not fun. I was very conflicted.”
Anne shrugged. “It worked out.”
“Did it ever.”
“Are you going to come up for air at some point? You’re attached at the—”
“Don’t you dare say genitals.”
Anne smiled chastely. “I was going to say hip.”
Josie laughed. “Right, I’m sure.”
“So, what’s the plan today, aside from waiting like a puppy for him to get back?”
“Oh, a little breakfast, a little screw you with a side of leave me alone.”
“We’ve got a surveillance job.”
Josie bit her lip.
Anne sighed. “…But I think I can handle it. Why don’t you go wash your important parts, and I’ll just keep our business running in the meantime.”
Josie grinned and laid her head on her friend’s shoulder. “You’re the best, no matter what they say.”
Anne rested her head against Josie’s. “I really am happy for you, Jo.”
She was so fulfilled in that moment that it seemed her life was falling into place, as if the stars had lined up to guide her to happiness. There were no words, so she simply said, “Thank you.”
That afternoon, Jon climbed the stairs to his apartment, needing to pick up a few things before heading back over to Josie’s. He hadn’t stopped smiling for four straight weeks, ever since they got together. He felt it, that sense of forever with her, strange as it was. It was scary and shocking, but mostly, it had him happier than he’d been in a very long time. He could look to the future with newfound excitement, like his life had just begun. Like he’d been living in black and white, and everything had turned Technicolor.
When he slipped his key in the door and opened it, his smile fell onto the floor.
She sat on the couch in the late afternoon sun amidst a pile of tissues with tears rolling down her face. She looked up at him with wet eyes, and Jon dropped his keys, pushing the door closed as he rushed to her side.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” He knelt in front of her, touched her face.
She tried to take a breath, but it hung up in her chest. “Oh, you know, no big deal, but my period is late.”
His fingers went numb. “What?”
“You know, my period? It’s fucking late. So I peed on a fucking s-s-stick and I’m fucking pregnant.” She let out a wail and folded in on herself.
Jon shifted to sit next to her and wrapped a dead arm around her. “Is it Matt’s?” He braced himself for the answer.
Tori looked up at him, afraid and apologetic. She shook her head. “We haven’t had sex, Jon.”
“No, this can’t be right,” he said, half to himself.
“It is. Do the math.” She wiped her nose, not bothering with the tears that ran down her cheeks like rivers.
He sat numbly on the couch, rubbing Tori’s back, trying to think back. They’d had sex just before they broke up, and that was the last time. He counted out the weeks.
“Fuck,�
� he breathed.
“Yeah.” She blew out a long breath, trying to gain some control. “What the fuck are we going to do?”
“What do you want to do?”
She whipped her head around to glare at him. “Oh my God, Jon. Don’t even suggest that I get an abortion.”
He put a hand up. “Whoa, I would never suggest that. I’ve got your back, no matter what. I just want to know what you want to do.”
“I don’t know.” She started sobbing again, hiccupping occasionally. “I don’t think I can give a kid up. Our kid. Our baby.”
The words ripped through him. “No, I don’t think I can either,” he said softly.
“What the fuck, Jon. What in the ever loving fuck.”
Josie. Her name ripped through him like lightning.
Jon pulled away, dropping his head to his hands as a hundred thoughts raced around his mind, unable to catch a single one.
He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, thinking a week, a month, a year into the future. Tori pregnant. Having a baby. How would he do it? How could they raise a child on PI and waitress’ salaries? None of it added up, not with the setup they were living in.
Nothing could stay the same. He didn’t know what to change, but change was the only way to make it work.
What the fuck am I gonna do?
He wouldn’t marry Tori. Hell, he didn’t even want to date her. He wanted Josie, but how could he tell her this? How could he expect her to understand? Because he couldn’t leave Tori on her own to have their baby.
Baby.
His stomach twisted, and he wondered if he was going to vomit.
He and Tori only had a little money saved, just what they put away for when they separated, but not enough to have a baby and still sustain their lifestyle. Plus, what kind of long-term plan could they possibly have? Living in Hell’s Kitchen was expensive enough without one of them being out of work or hiring a nanny full time on their salaries. Tori didn’t want to be a waitress forever. How could she ever finish school? It was impossible.
And then, everything clicked together, the pieces flying at each other like magnets.
“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Let’s go to New Orleans.”
“Hell no!” She gaped at him. “Why would we do that?”
“My parents can help. Yours can’t, not when they’re struggling as it is. We need to be somewhere else, someplace that’s cheaper than Manhattan. Somewhere we can find our footing. I’ve got a Louisiana license to practice and contacts I can use. I can work and save while you go to school and get your degree. My parents’ place is big enough, and they won’t turn us away.”
“No,” she squeaked.
“Yes. Listen, this is a good idea.” He cupped her face and bent down to get eye level with her. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, okay? I’m not going to leave you to do this alone.”
“But…”
“You’ll go back to school, and I’ll make money. You’ll have the baby. Then, we’ll figure things out.”
Tori just looked at him, disbelieving. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
He blinked back at her. “Me neither.”
They sat back on the couch, stunned and quiet, staring at the wall in the silent room.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be sorry, Tori. Come here.” He pulled her into his side, and she curled into him.
Josie.
Her name rang in his mind like a bell. There had to be a way to work it out. He could tell her the truth. They could work it out long distance, couldn’t they? The occasional weekend in New York or New Orleans. Would it be enough? Would Josie be able to handle them living together? Raising a child together? Could he even ask that of her?
And realization dawned on him, cold and cruel. He couldn’t keep her. He couldn’t drag her into an impossible situation where he was to live with Tori two thousand miles away to raise their child together. No one would accept him under those conditions. She’d be better off without him than making the sacrifices she’d have to make to be with him.
He had to say goodbye.
The thought of facing her made his stomach turn. How could he look into her eyes and tell her he was leaving? Would she fight it? Would she want to work it out? Or would she cry? Yell? Tell him she hated him? How could he hear those words leave her lips?
He had a duty to fulfill, a commitment to honor, and that choice meant he had to leave. That responsibility alone squeezed his heart like a vice. He couldn’t expect Josie to shoulder that burden alongside him.
But he had to tell her — somehow — that Tori was pregnant.
Pregnant. Baby. Father.
The words flew around his head like starlings. He and Tori would leave. His parents would know what to do. They could figure things out when they got to New Orleans.
Jon couldn’t process it, couldn’t process anything, just sat and stared at the wall, listening to Tori cry, marveling at how strange it was that his life should change in seconds and with only a few simple words.
Josie’s phone buzzed on her desk, and her heart skipped, hoping it was Jon saying he was on his way. She was half right.
Hey, something came up. Can’t come by tonight.
She frowned and messaged him back.
No worries. Just message me when you’re free.
Josie set her phone down, her eyes lingering on it for a moment as doubt rolled through her. It was strange that he hadn’t called her to tell her, and that he hadn’t told her more. Stop being paranoid, she told herself and flipped her over phone so she couldn’t see the screen. She turned her focus to her research as she typed another search term into her browser, trying to ignore her nerves, hoping they were wrong.
Without A Word
THE SUN WAS BARELY UP when Jon pulled up in front of Josie’s place with a full car, a U-Haul, and a crying, pregnant ex-girlfriend. The last thirty-six hours had been a whirlwind of packing and coordination. They’d decided to leave as soon as possible so they could get Tori enrolled in community college, which was starting in a few weeks. His parents had happily agreed to take them in and help them out, and Jon was already rekindling contacts in New Orleans.
Of course, all of that was a cover for the real reason they were leaving so soon. Josie.
He hadn’t slept for two nights, the first two nights in a month he hadn’t been with her. He held her off while he tried to figure out how to handle telling her about Tori. He’d texted to let her know he had to leave town, said he’d be in touch, and she didn’t press him, even though he knew she knew something was the matter.
He couldn’t handle seeing her face to face, that was one thing he knew for certain. He considered calling her, but it felt so wrong to tell her that way. The final decision came to him in the dead of night, and he got out of bed to employ it. He’d written the letter with bleary eyes and a worn-out heart before climbing back on to the air mattress in his empty room to lie in the dark, waiting for the sun to rise.
It wasn’t enough, but it was the best he could do.
He couldn’t say when he woke, since he never truly slept. When day finally broke, he climbed out of bed and made coffee, packing away their last few belongings with numb hands. Tori shuffled out of their room, puffy faced and looking miserable. She poured her coffee.
“I wrote her a letter.” He sort of blurted the words, too tired to ease into the subject.
Tori blinked. “Josie?”
He nodded. “I need to go by there on the way out.”
“No, Jon. If we’re going over there, knock on her fucking door.”
He shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
Tori’s cheeks flushed. “And why not? Are you that much of a chicken shit?”
He felt his own cheeks tingle with shame and regret. “Guess so. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Well, what do you expect me to say? You care about her, and you’re just going to leave her a lette
r? You’ve been practically living with her for the last month. I mean, Jesus. That’s so cold.”
Jon scrubbed a hand over his face, and his voice was tight, heavy with his hurt. “It’s the only way I can keep a handle on all of this. I’ve barely got a grip as it is. If you throw Josie in on that, I just don’t know if I’ll be left standing by the end of it. I’m doing the best I can, Tori.”
Tori’s anger fell away, and she approached him, leaning in to hug him around his waist. She was quiet, and he knew she was taken aback by his reaction. He just couldn’t hold it together anymore. The corners of his eyes burned.
“I’m sorry, Jon.”
“Me too.”
An hour later, Jon climbed the stairs to her apartment and stopped in front of her door. He stood there for a moment, wishing things were different. She was so close, just on the other side of the door. He could knock, and she would answer. But what would happen after that held the power to wreck him. So he’d leave it in her hands, and she could make a choice.
He reached into his leather jacket and pulled out the letter, then bent to lay it on her door mat, trailing his fingers over her name on the envelope. His heart was dead in his chest as he walked away, not knowing if he’d ever see her again, not knowing if she’d ever forgive him. Not sure if he’d ever forgive himself.
Josie,
I’ve thought through a hundred scenarios where I say what I’m about to say to you, but there was only one version that existed where I could tell you the truth and still have the strength to leave. I’m sorry to tell you this in a letter, Josie. You have to know that this isn’t what I ever wanted for us.
Tori is pregnant.
I want you to know that when she and I broke up, that was it. It’s only been you. It was always you. But I can’t leave her alone in all of this, and I can’t drag you into it either, not when I don’t know what the future will bring. We’re leaving for New Orleans where we can save money, and maybe, someday, we can come back to New York.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you and I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry I’m a coward. I’ll be out of touch for a few days, call me if you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Please. I don’t want to lose you.