Everything Unexpected

by Caroline Nolan

  This time when she looks up at me, her sad expression tightens everything in my chest. I take a step closer, wanting to comfort her, to make up for not being there when she first found out. But she doesn’t let me. She holds up her hand, indicating for me to stay right where I am.

  “But my biggest worry was how you would react. Isn’t that silly? I’m the one who’s pregnant. I’m the one who ultimately was going to have to make the choice, but my biggest concern was what you would say.”

  Every ounce of confidence I had walking into this room begins to dissipate faster than I can keep hold of. And it’s scaring the shit out of me.

  “Comb—” I start, but she moves on.

  “For days I carried around this sick worry inside of me. Terrified what we had done, what we were about to face, was going to ruin us. Ruin our friendship—”

  “Nothing can ruin us,” I interrupt.

  “Because you were my best friend, Shane,” she says, still not paying any attention to my words.

  “And you’re mine,” I tell her, taking a step towards her, ignoring her plea for me to stay away. But the next words out of her mouth stop me midstride.

  “Valentine’s Day,” she says, almost in a whisper. “That’s what I’ve been sitting here thinking about. Over and over. I keep telling myself I must have the dates wrong. Maybe…she had the dates wrong. I’ve been arguing with myself over it. Telling myself that while I was taking pregnancy tests, you couldn’t possibly have been out fucking other women. Right?” her tone pleading with me to agree. “That wouldn’t happen?”

  This breaking, begging tone in her voice is one I’ve never heard from her before. One I know I never want to hear again. The thought of lying briefly crosses my mind. But just as quickly as that thought materializes, it disappears. I can’t lie to her. If I lie, there’s no way she’ll believe anything I have to say after to defend myself. I close my eyes and tell her the truth.

  “It was just once,” I admit. “And I wish more than anything I could take it back. I wish it never happened but—”

  “Oh my God,” her voice cracks. I look up to see her stand and start to walk out of the bedroom. I follow her out into the living room, watching her pace around the open space.

  “Wait! Please listen to me,” I beg. This time it’s my voice that’s breaking slightly. “After my birthday, I was confused. What happened that night was…incredible. That’s the only word I can think of to describe it. And while I was in Australia and New York, you were all I thought about. That night was all I thought about.”

  She stops pacing and turns to look at me, hurt and anger radiating from her. The way her eyes glare, the way her chest and shoulders rise and fall rapidly, holding back tears. It kills me. I want nothing more than to pull her to me and hold her close. To make that hurt and anger go away.

  “When Bryan told me you had a date, I—I didn’t—” I take a second, trying my best to figure out how to explain my actions. “I was jealous and…pissed. It’s not an excuse, but I let what happen with Natalia happen because I was hurt. Angry at you.”

  “Angry at me?” she says harshly.

  “Yes,” I answer. “Because you were over it already.”

  “So the best way to get over what happened with me was to get under someone else?” she asks, disappointment laced her voice. It feels like stabs to the chest.

  “At the time, yes, that’s what I thought,” I admit.

  “Wow. I can’t wait to see what you do next time I piss you off,” she says spitefully.

  “That’s not fair!” I tell her. “Try and understand it from my point of view. I was going crazy thinking about you. When I left, there was something unfinished between us. I know you felt it too. But neither of us did anything about it. And that was a mistake. I should have said something then. And you should have as well! It wasn’t just an itch to scratch between us, Leah. We know it now and we probably knew it then too. Neither of us handled anything right that night. But we aren’t in a place like that anymore. We’re beyond that.”

  “Why?” She shrugs. “Because we’re having baby?”

  I stop myself from rolling my eyes and ignore the curtness in her voice at her question. “You know it’s not just that,” I say, taking a small, slow step towards her. I need to steer us in a direction where we can talk rationally. Where she’s calm enough to listen to what I’m saying more than what the memory of the last hour is screaming at her. A place that will remind her of what we’ve gone through over the last few months. What we’ve become to each other. The feelings I know we have for each other and that have changed everything between us. A place where the actions of one night have no impact on what we as a couple are today.

  “You and I would have happened regardless.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

  “Yes, you are,” I argue. “You and I both know that this, us,” I use my index finger to point between us, “would have happened. I’m sure of it. It was only a matter of time. It just happened faster because of the pregnancy.”

  “So it is because of the baby,” she says, her voice raising.

  “That’s not what I said! Stop putting words in my mouth,” I say, raising my own voice a little. I take a quick breath, releasing it slowly, knowing I’m the one who needs to remain calm if there’s even a chance of us talking this through tonight.

  “You know what I’m certain about?” she asks. “I’m certain if it wasn’t for this pregnancy, our lives would not have changed at all. You’d still be traveling the world just like you are now. Gone for days, weeks at a time. And I’d be climbing the ladder at work, working my way to the big cases, the ones I know I should be getting.” A small snide smile forms on her lips. “But there is a pregnancy. And now I see it’s only my life that’s changed. You’re still living the life you had and I’m—” She lets out small laugh. “I’m struggling just to make it through each day.”

  Her words sting.

  “How can you think that? How can you think my life hasn’t changed?”

  “I don’t know,” she says, shrugging. “Maybe it’s the crib still in pieces in that box. Unbuilt, unopened even. Ignored—”

  “I haven’t ignored it,” I defend myself.

  “Or maybe it’s that you still take off for trips around the world for who knows how long—”

  “It’s my job—”

  But she seems to be on a roll because she keeps coming at me with more accusations.

  “Maybe it’s that we drove back here today in your Jeep. The same car that has no windows, doors that are paper thin.” Her tone is angry now. “I remember telling to you months ago it wouldn’t be safe for a baby. Yet there it is, parked downstairs on the street.”

  I shake my head in disbelief, trying to reign in my own anger now. I’m not dumb. I know Leah’s current lashings stem from her hurt right now. She’s hurt by New York and now she’s trying to give it back. But this is not a game Leah and I play. We’ve never thrown blame and pain at each other just to make ourselves feel better. We’ve also never been in a position where each other’s actions have had the ability to hurt one another this much. But who’s to blame isn’t important to me right now. Fixing this is. So if I need to take a few lashes before she’s ready to hear me out, then I’ll take them. I’ll let her mark my body with her angry words if it means we can work on healing them faster.

  “You’re not ready for this,” she says as if she’s just come to some sort of realization. The absolute fucking wrong realization.

  “What?”

  “You don’t want this. You’re not ready for this,” she says.

  “You’re wrong,” I say forcefully. “Comb, I do want this. I want you. More than anything.”

  “Me maybe,” she says. “But it’s not just me anymore.” Her folded arms drop down from her chest. Down to her stomach, covering it, protecting it almost. From me.

  “I know that,” I say. “I want the thre
e of us. Together. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Our future. Leah—”

  I stop and swallow. This is not how I expected this conversation to go, but if I need to bare it all right here and now in order to prove to her she and this baby are everything I want, then I’ll do it.

  “I love you,” I tell her.

  She blinks twice before shifting her gaze away from me. “Those words are so easy for you to drop,” she says.

  Now it’s my turn to blink a few times. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She just shakes her head.

  “Leah—” I say, taking another step towards her.

  “I think you need to take some time. Figure out what you really want.”

  I stop right in front of her. “I don’t need time,” I argue. “I’m telling you right now. I’m telling you everything. I love you! Why won’t you listen to what I’m saying?”

  “I am,” she says. “I just don’t think you fully understand what you’re saying.”

  If she had slapped me, I don’t think it would have stung as much. “How can you say that?”

  “How can I?” she asks surprised. “I’m just trying to be truthful.”

  “No! You’re trying to hurt me because you feel like I hurt you. And I get that. I can even understand it. But don’t tell me what I need. Don’t tell me you know what I want more than I do. Because I’m telling you, I’m ready for this. This is the life I want.”

  “Then why is everything still in boxes, Shane? Why are you leaving every few weeks? Why am I the only one sacrificing?” she yells.

  “I am too!” I yell back. “I am sacrificing. I’m turning down job offers so I can be at your side. So I can go to your doctor’s appointments. So that I stand by you when you’re having a pregnancy meltdown. I stay home and rub your legs every night to make you more comfortable. I do my best to make my schedule fit around yours!” I know I should ease up on my tone. None of this is helping, but for whatever reason, I can’t help myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been this upset, this angry at her before. “I’ve done everything I can think of to make things easier for you! Anything you want, I try and give you. I even fuck you when you want it!”

  The second the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I want to take them back, erase them from ever being said. I didn’t mean them, she must know that. But the look on her face after saying them, I won’t soon forget. Tears form in the corner of her eyes, pooling together before they finally fall down her cheeks.

  “Comb—” I start, feeling like utter shit for my words. I raise my hand to touch her, wipe away her tears, but she quickly takes a step back, recoiling even.

  “Well,” she starts, her voice trying to hide embarrassment. “At least now I know how you really feel.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I say gently, trying again to reach out to her. But she’s even further out of my grasp now, walking away, headed for the door. I realize she’s going to leave, walk away before we have a chance to fix this. Before I have a chance to fix this. “Don’t go,” I plead. “Stay. Let’s talk.”

  She looks back at me but continues her walk to the door. “I think we’ve talked enough.”

  “No we haven’t,” I say, chasing after her.

  I catch up to her, wrapping my hand around her arm to stop her, but she shoves me away. I raise my hands, yielding, accepting she doesn’t want me to touch her.

  Slowly and calmly, I beg her. “Please stay.”

  “No,” she answers.

  “No?”

  “No,” she says again. “I can’t be here right now, Shane. I can’t be near you right now. Maybe you think you don’t need time, but right now,” her eyes wander, looking at anything but me, “I do.”

  Fear creeps up my spine. “Time for what?” I ask. “Are you—are we breaking up?”

  Her eyes finally fall on me and their sad expression nearly knocks me down. My hand reaches for the door frame, the rest of me needing help to stay upright. How can we be breaking up when all we’ve done is fall in love? “Comb?” I breathe out.

  “I… I don’t know,” she says. “I just…need time.”

  “How much time?”

  She doesn’t answer. We just stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before she finally turns and walks out the door. I watch her, stunned, as she walks down the hallway, to the elevators and pushes the call button. I tell myself this isn’t real, that this isn’t happening. I tell myself that if she turns around, just gives me one look, I know she’ll come running back. Because she’ll see how much I love her, how much I want her here, how important she is to me. How much this family we are about to start means to me. She’ll see I didn’t mean any of the stupid shit that came out of my mouth. And I’ll see the same thing. I’ll know she didn’t mean what she said. That she doesn’t need time. That she doesn’t want to leave right now.

  That she loves me back.

  Please, Leah. Please turn and look at me.

  The elevator doors open. There’s a small hesitation in her step but it’s not enough. She takes one step, then another, disappearing into the elevator. The doors close and she’s gone. She didn’t look back.

  I stand in my doorway for I’m not sure how long, unable to comprehend how this day turned out the way it did. This day was supposed to end with us moving forward, together. Instead, I’m left alone, unmoving while the distance between us grows larger and larger with every step she takes away from me.

  I close the door after I accept she isn’t coming back and stagger to the couch, leaning my head back against the cushions. I sit back and replay everything that’s just happened. The words we used, the anger we had. I try and follow the twists and turns that lead us to this point, but my mind can’t seem to process any of it right now. How could five minutes on a sidewalk change everything? Change all the minutes of my future?

  I don’t pay attention to how long I’ve stayed sitting like this, my head back, arms fallen at my sides. I don’t notice the time passing or the sun setting.

  After a while, a bottle of beer appears in front of my face. I look up to the hand offering it before I open it, Bryan taking a seat next me.

  The lights in the apartment are still off, a darkness hovering over the room. I have no idea what time it is but it must be a few hours since Leah left. I take a long sip from my beer, not realizing how thirsty I am.

  “Things not go as planned?” Bryan asks, carefully.

  I almost choke at the comment. “No,” I say, nearly laughing at just how unexpected and unplanned everything went. I take another sip from my beer. “Not even close.”

  I’VE NEVER BEEN the type of guy to dwell over a breakup. Relationships come and then they go. I never had the fear I let the right girl slip away. Never worried that one day, I’d wake up agonizing over a loss. I never had any of those worries because I knew I had never found my true match. Sure, I’d had fun times, good memories I’d look back on with fondness and humor, but never with regret.

  If things didn’t work out, it was for the best. I trusted that there must have been a reason. That someone else was out there, meant for me, meant for a different time. And to be honest, I was in no rush to find her. I enjoyed the journey. I liked being on the ride that would take me to her…eventually.

  But then my ride crashed, leaving me for the first time…heartbroken. Not only did I find the girl, but I was too blind to see she’s been riding alongside me this entire time.

  It’s been three days since Leah walked out my door without looking back. Three days I’ve had to live through every low one can imagine. Even some you can’t. The regrets, the pain, the utter fucking agony. The misery of knowing there’s nothing that can undo what you want removed the most, the hurt you imposed. The hurt thrown back at you.

  When Bryan said people were either in love or in misery, he was wrong. Because I’m in both. So in love with Leah it hurts, head over fucking heels in misery it kills.

  How naïve I’ve been all this
time. To think I was in charge, that I somehow had control in how or when I fell in love. I never had control. For six years, since the night I met Leah in a crowded room around a foosball table, I never had control. I wish I had realized that years ago. I wouldn’t have wasted so much time. I would have fought for her harder, pushed anyone aside to be near her. I wouldn’t have let our time be wasted, especially if it was going to be so short lived.

  We haven’t spoken in days since she left. I’ve fought with myself every second not to chase after her, call her insistently, beg for her to listen. I want to fill her head with assurances and promises. Leave no room for confusion, any uncertainty or mistrust. No room for doubt. I’d be sure to push any hesitation she has about me, my feelings, my wants, out of her head.

  I never knew, never been prepared for how much a heart could shrivel up after letting it grow. My heart expanded not just for Leah, but for a person I haven’t even met yet. A small stranger who will change me for the rest of my life. Because of these two people, my heart grew so much, I wondered how it was possible for it to stay inside my chest.

  I’ve never been the type of guy to dwell over a breakup. Relationships come and then they go. But this wasn’t just a relationship and this isn’t just a breakup. This is my life being torn into three, leaving me…broken.

  “HEY.” BRYAN NODS, walking through the front door carrying two takeout cups of coffee and newspaper. He hands me a cup and I thank him with a half-hearted smile.

  I look back to my computer screen, the shots I’ve been editing for the last two days. It should have only taken me a couple of hours but my concentration levels have been near zero. Bryan comes up behind me, inspecting the images on the screen. Much to his disappointment, they aren’t photos of women in lingerie. These are of sunsets over the water and boats docked at the marina. A small booking I did for a Miami tourist website.

  “What’s this?” he says, picking up an owner’s manual sitting on the corner of my desk.

  “New car,” I answer, barely giving it a glance.