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How We Fell in Love: Grace and James's short story

Page 6

by Toni Aleo


  “Sorry.”

  I wipe my face jerkily as a sob moves through my chest. “Just go.”

  “What?” James asks, his voice breaking. “You’re serious?”

  “James, seriously. You deserve someone who would be a good option two. I don’t even know if I’m a good option one, and I sure as hell didn’t know you wanted option two. Crap, a little heads-up would have been nice.”

  His eyes are panicked. “Grace, you’re the only option I want,” he pleads, and my heart can’t take it.

  “Please, just go.”

  “Grace, baby—”

  “No. Go,” I demand without looking at him.

  He doesn’t move, and neither do I. “Can I call you tomorrow?”

  “No,” I answer without thinking because it’s the only way to end this. Cut-and-dried. No pain. Just end it. “It’s better this way.”

  “I really believe you need a night to think this over before you throw this away,” he suggests, but I shake my head.

  “If I don’t end it now, you’ll stay with me, and you’ll see I’m no option at all. Then you’ll cheat, and I’ll be broken. At least this way, we’re both not too invested. I’m doing this for you.”

  “Grace—”

  “Just go, James. Please,” I say, wiping my face once more. When he doesn’t move, I shake my head, turning on my heel and heading for my room. I shut the door, locking it because I hear him coming toward it. I fall face first onto my bed as a sob rips from my soul.

  But dammit, my bed smells like him.

  “Grace, please don’t do this.”

  I ignore him.

  “I love you, and it’s okay that you don’t love me. You will.”

  “Just go,” I yell, and then I bury my face in the covers as my sobs fill the room. I don’t know why I’m crying. I wanted this. I pushed him away, but it hurts. It hurts so bad, but I refuse to let him hurt me when he realizes I’m not enough.

  A few minutes pass, and I roll onto my back, holding my stomach as I stare up at the blades of the fan. I inhale harshly, my whole body flushed and hurting with my sobs. When I hear a knock on the door, I close my eyes.

  “Please, James, go.”

  “It’s me.” My brother’s voice brings no comfort whatsoever. “You know you just fucked up, right?”

  I blink back my tears. “Please go.”

  “But, for real—”

  “No, Shea. Go. Just leave me alone!” I yell, and I hear him let out a long groan before he walks away. When silence fills my room, I welcome it. I crave it. But then the loneliness washes over me, and I miss James. I miss the feel of him. I miss the taste of him. I miss his words.

  I miss James.

  May 20th

  I sniffle loudly while I wipe away my tears with a tissue. As I stuff almonds into my mouth, a wave of nausea hits me, but I ignore it. I’ve been puking all day, and I’m pretty sure it’s because I miss James. Also, I’ve eaten a family-size bag of KitKats, all those almonds, along with a package of Chips Ahoy!, and then a box of Lucky Charms.

  All the things James got me.

  P.S. I Love You plays on the TV, and I’m blaming that for why I’m sobbing. Stupid love movie. Stupid husband for dying. Stupid cancer. This is why you don’t love someone; they always leave you. I lay my head on the pillow I’ve made with my blanket and sigh loudly as my lip wobbles from crying. I’m pitiful. When Brent cheated, I told myself that I needed to be done with guys. They do nothing but cause me issues, and those experiences are why I pushed James away. I’m not saying I shouldn’t have. I truly believe he is better off without me, but it sucks how much it hurts. How much I miss him.

  God, this sucks.

  My phone signals another call. From my mom. She’s worried sick, but I can’t with her right now. I’m hardly even speaking to Shea, and James hasn’t called or texted or emailed. Jackie has, though—to fire me just like I thought she would as soon as Shea dumped her. So yeah, that’s another reason I’m sitting here crying. I have no job, no money, and now no boyfriend.

  Why does this hurt so bad?

  I hear a bedroom door open and close. The sound makes me cringe, which is unusual because it means Shea is coming down the hall, and I should be happy about that. He’s my best friend. But right now, I just want to be alone. I feel him come up next to me, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see him. He’s looking down at me like I’m roadkill. I probably look like it too.

  “Hey, look.”

  I glance up, glaring, and he snaps a picture. “What the hell!”

  “James called to ask how you are. I figured picture evidence is better than me saying you’re a dumbass who’s slowly dying.”

  “I don’t like you.”

  “I know. I don’t think you like anyone right now. Not even yourself.” He sits down in his recliner, kicking it up. A wave of nausea hits me, and I lean over the chair, puking in my trash can.

  “Ew.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” I mumble as I puke some more.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m upset, and I won’t stop eating junk.”

  “Oh. Well, stop.”

  “No, I’m sad.”

  “Well, it’s your own damn fault.”

  I glare over at him, my body burning with anger. “Thanks.”

  “I’m just saying, Grace. You fucked up.”

  “Thanks again.”

  He isn’t listening to me. “Usually when someone tells you they love you, you’re supposed to say it back—or at least hug them and tell them you’ll get there. You two weren’t just fucking, and you know it. He loves you, Grace. Like, really loves you. And the thing is, I never even fathomed him hurting you. I think he is the one for you.”

  I snort. “Nope. No one is.”

  “Grace, why are you like this? I never saw you hurting him.”

  “Well, you saw wrong.” I don’t mean it. I didn’t want to hurt James. It was all just too much at once.

  “Why, Grace?”

  “Easy,” I say, looking over at him. “Mitchell, Roderick, Keith, and Brent—all the guys who have cheated on me because I wasn’t enough.”

  He sits silently for a minute, and my heart aches. “You deserve the world, Grace, because you’re more than enough. I get that a lot of bad guys have come around you. But James, he’s a real good guy. Wouldn’t hurt you. He’d only love you. Don’t you see that?”

  “If I did, I wouldn’t—” I pause to puke some more. I ignore the look on Shea’s face. I don’t need that right now. I don’t need this fucking conversation either. “Please just leave me here to die.”

  Shea’s phone signals with a text, and he looks down at it. He scoffs before holding his phone up to show me. It’s from James.

  James: She’s so gorgeous. I miss her. What can I do to fix this?

  My heart throbs in pain as I look at Shea. “What?”

  “What?” he asks. “Can’t you see the guy is hurting?”

  I shake my head, and then I’m puking again.

  “Grace, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I don’t know,” I say as I puke up all my almonds. “I just feel empty.”

  “I get that you’re sad, but that’s a lot of vomiting.”

  I shrug. “I’d say it’s a normal amount. I did eat a whole box of Lucky Charms. I poured the milk into the bag and went to town.”

  “Some would be disgusted by that. However, I’m proud to call you mine.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But for real, you’re not pregnant, are you?”

  My head whips up. “What? Why would you ask that?”

  “Because you’re puking like mad, and I know you’ve been sexually active. Also, you haven’t asked me to get you tampons. I know you ran out last month because you asked me get you some. But it weirds me out, so I didn’t.”

  I blink.

  He blinks.

  And then I puke.

  After a trip to the drugstore…

  The test in my han
d reads my fate.

  I’m pregnant.

  “Are you having twins?”

  I gawk at my brother, who is standing beside me, looking down at the test. “Shea! Really? It doesn’t say that on the test.”

  “What does it say?”

  “Are you really this daft? It says I’m pregnant!”

  “With one baby?”

  “As of right now, yes. But another may join the fucking party next week. For Christ’s sake! Yes. One.”

  “You’re upset.”

  “I am. I’m pregnant!”

  “I’m gonna call Mom.” He starts to walk off, but I grab his arm, stopping him. “Ew! Did you wash your hands?”

  “Yes. God, Shea! Don’t call Mom.”

  I hold my face as I start to cry. How in the hell did this happen? Well, I know how it happened. James and I go at it like rabbits, but we were careful…ish. Shit. This is karma. I break up with the guy because he scares me, and then God makes me pregnant with James’s child so I can be reminded that I’m a dumbass who doesn’t see a good guy when I have one.

  “You’re going to keep it, right?”

  I’ve been gawking at this guy all afternoon, I swear. “Yes, Shea.”

  He wraps his arms around me. “Grace, it’s okay. We’ve got this. I’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll help. And you know James is a great guy. He’ll be there for you. He’s loaded. He’ll support you.”

  A sob racks my body. “That’s the thing. I know he will, but I dumped him. He deserves so much better than that, but I’m an idiot. I don’t want him to feel obligated to me.”

  “Grace, he’d take you back right now if you asked.”

  “No, he deserves better. I refuse to tell him ‘I’m pregnant, and hey, wanna get back together?’ I don’t want him to want to be with me because I’m pregnant. I want him to be with me because I’m complicated, but he hasn’t come back or called or anything.”

  “You told him not to call.”

  “Shea! We don’t need details right now. I’m pregnant!”

  I don’t have to see Shea’s face to know he’s annoyed. Not that it matters.

  I’m pregnant with James’s child, and I have to tell him.

  May 24th

  Because I’m a coward and I wanted to go the OB-GYN to confirm my pregnancy, I wait a couple days before calling James to meet me for coffee. When I walk into the coffee shop on the corner of our condo building, James is already here. He’s sitting in the corner, two cups of coffee in front of him, but I notice more than that. His shoulders are low in his tailored suit. He’s looking down at his phone, his jaw taut, and I want nothing more than to kiss that tension away. He looks beautiful, and I don’t know how I’ve spent these days without him. I miss him, desperately. I’m not nervous or even scared to tell him. I know he’ll be supportive; I just wish there were a better fate for us.

  He must have felt me staring at him, because he looks up and knocks the air out of me. His eyes are sad, and I know that it’s my fault. I lick my lips as I come toward him. He stands and comes around the table to reach for me, but then he stops. His eyes move along my face, and he smiles.

  “I’d really like to kiss you.”

  I swallow hard, looking away. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “I don’t care,” he says before cupping the back of my neck and pressing his mouth to mine. I melt against his lips, my heart pounding in my chest. I have to remember this isn’t real. I can’t have someone like him. He wouldn’t love me once he spent more time with me. No one ever has lasted more than three months. I can’t keep this up with him. It already hurts after a month, and three would destroy me. When he pulls away, my eyes stay shut as he slides his nose along mine.

  “I’ve missed you. Greatly.”

  My heart stops dead in my chest as I gaze up at him. “I need to tell you something.”

  His eyes change to suspicion as he pulls the chair out for me. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” I answer as I sit.

  “I got you a latte.”

  Can I drink that? Unsure, I shake my head. “I’m not thirsty.” I instantly realize that was rude. “Thank you, though.”

  When I glance over at him, he smiles. “It’s just really good to see you. To be honest, I haven’t been good. I almost ignored your wishes, but I know how you are, and I really didn’t want a door slammed in my face.”

  Yeah, I’d do that.

  “I was going to send you flowers, but I won’t apologize for loving you.”

  “You shouldn’t have to.”

  “You’re right.”

  He reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together. “I get it. You’ve been burned, but Grace, I won’t do that—”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Well, no beating around the bush, Adler.

  A billion different emotions flash over James’s face as he gazes into my eyes. Soon, he is blurry from my tears. “I’m so sorry. I guess we weren’t careful enough, but I’m right at four weeks. I’m super sorry—”

  “Why are you apologizing?”

  I wipe away a tear before I shrug. “I don’t know. We never talked about kids because, let’s be honest, it wasn’t supposed to be more than just screwing around.”

  Annoyance fills his beautiful features. “You still believe that?”

  “I do. I’m not worth your time.”

  “I disagree.”

  “James, for real. No one ever wants me after a while—”

  “Well, I want you now, tomorrow, and forever.”

  “James, listen. I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to me. We can raise this baby as friends—”

  “No,” he says immediately. “Your being pregnant doesn’t make me feel obligated to you. The fact that I love you obligates me to be with you, love you, and show you how it is when a real man loves a woman.”

  “Wow. Real Michael Bolton there, guy.” I say that because his words are too deep. They’re too much of a promise I know he can’t keep.

  But he doesn’t laugh. “Grace, this is a blessing. I want you, I want our child, and I know you’ll love me. You just need a bit more time.”

  A lump forms in my throat as I look away, shaking my head. “I really like you. You’re an amazing guy. But give up on the idea of us together. I’m not worth it. I’m hopeless, and you’ll only get hurt in the end.”

  “Or we’ll live a damn good life together, raising our children.”

  “It’s only one.”

  “I mean after this one.”

  I’m speechless as I gaze up at him. “James—”

  “Listen. You remember when we danced to ‘To Make You Feel My Love’?”

  I nod, biting my lip to keep it from wobbling. “Yeah.”

  “I held you, and all I could think was I wanted to do everything the song said. So, let me. Give me a chance. See if you fall for me. And if by the time the baby comes, you still don’t love me, then I’ll leave you alone. But until then, I’m going to love the hell out of you, and you’re not gonna be able to resist me.”

  When his lips break into a wide grin, I shake my head. “You’re setting yourself up for failure.”

  With such beautiful confidence, James says, “Or the biggest win of my life.”

  What did I get myself into?

  September 3rd

  “Mom! It’s a boy!”

  My mom squeals on the other end while James holds up the ultrasound pictures, his head tilting to the side as he looks at them. “And we’re sure that’s a penis and not just his toe?” he asks.

  “Don’t you see the resemblance?” I tease, and he glares.

  “Har-har.”

  I laugh as I shake my head. “Yes, that’s his penis! Can you believe it, Mom? A little boy to play hockey and be amazing. I’m so stoked.”

  “Me too, my love. I wish it was a girl. All the bows. I love bows.”

  I roll my eyes. “But a boy, Mom. Hockey.”

  “Girl, I’
ve done my fair share of hockey. You’ll see.”

  I grin in excitement at James, who is beaming too. “He’s gonna be so talented and so handsome.”

  “Well, he does have two very good-looking parents,” my mom offers.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” I say, and James and I share a look. “Okay, Mom, let me call you later.”

  “Of course. Love you, sweetie.”

  “Love you,” I say softly as James wraps his arm around my waist.

  I see in his eyes that he wishes I would say that to him. And to be honest, I don’t know why I just don’t. Things between us have been absolutely amazing. As he promised, he has spoiled me with gifts and words galore. If we don’t see each other in the morning, he sends me a text to tell me he loves me and that I’m beautiful. I’ve spent the better part of the last three months puking my brains out, and James has held my hair for most of it.

  I want to say that I allow myself to enjoy him, that I crave him. And a part of me does, but the other part is so cautious. Pregnancy has made me even more of a pain in the ass. I feel drained. I’m hungry and just tired. James is so patient, though. It’s as if he isn’t fazed by my outbursts or even my insecurities. He just loves me. It’s so unreal, and I can’t help waiting for the other shoe to drop. I know any other woman would put her claws into James and never let go. But the thing is, I care too much about him to trap him with me.

  What if his soul mate is still out there?

  What if it’s not me?

  We’ve gone past the three-month mark in our relationship, but six is coming up, and I can’t shake the idea that he’ll get tired of me. I’m not truly convinced I am the woman for him, and that makes me incredibly sad. He’s just so wonderful, so perfect, so kind, while I’m sharp-tongued, a little rough around the edges, and I’ve been hurt over and over again. I’m a poster child for insecurities, but he treats me like I’m brand-new. Not the least bit damaged. So, why am I fighting it?

  “So, a question.”

  I lean into him as I gaze at the ultrasound. I was so scared at first about having a child, but now, I can’t wait. I want to hold my baby. “Yeah?”

 

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