My heart broke for her.
“You didn’t do anything wrong when we were together,” Braydon’s tone softened. “I liked you a lot. I wouldn’t have dated you for eight months if I didn’t.”
“It was nine months,” Katrina interjected.
I watched the back-and-forth between them like a game of Ping-Pong. An extremely awkward and tense game of Ping-Pong.
“Right. Nine months. But, you were ready for more, and I didn’t want to be tied down. We were at an impasse. So I figured it was best to move on.”
“I see,” she said, her voice growing shaky. She looked like she might break down in tears, so I carefully placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
She blinked back tears and nodded. “Yes. This helps. A lot, actually.”
I looked at Braydon. See, dumbass.
“I spent the last two years wondering what I did wrong and wishing I knew what I could have changed,” Katrina said, braving a glance at Braydon once again.
“Don’t change. I hate to be cliché and say it wasn’t you, it was me. But it’s true. You will find a man who loves you and wants all the things you do. I just wasn’t him.”
She smiled weakly and nodded. “Wow, you sound like my mother. And you’re both right. It’s time to move on and open myself up to new possibilities.”
I wrapped an arm around Katrina and gave her a hug. “Good luck.”
“You guys, too.”
Katrina left a few moments later, and I could see in her eyes that she needed to be alone, probably have herself a good cry. I hoped this experience had been cathartic for her. I could already feel the growth they’d both experienced, even if it hadn’t all sunk in yet.
The mood between me and Braydon was somber as we left the coffee shop. Something between us had shifted and I wasn’t entirely sure what. I’d seen his past and been part of helping him work through some skeletons in his closet. I should have felt lighter, freer, but instead I just felt sad. Sad for Katrina that she’d wasted two years, sad for Braydon that he’d lived as a recluse after his last relationship went so wrong.
I wondered why it took two years for them to have this conversation. But maybe the time was necessary. It provided time for emotions to cool and them both to be a little wiser and more mature to face the consequences of their actions. I was happy to help them solve it. It just still felt so senseless.
“Thank you for that,” he said.
“You’re welcome.” I was just glad it went so well.
“I’m sorry my baggage got in the way of us. I feel like an ass.”
“Guys are asses sometimes. You were young.”
Those pretty baby blues of his latched on to mine. “It’s no excuse.”
I nodded. It was refreshing to hear him take responsibility for his actions. And actually I agreed. He should have had that conversation with her a long time ago. That restraining order may have never been needed. Katrina could have moved on with her life much sooner, and Braydon would never have instituted his rules for relationship-free arrangements. And I might have had an actual shot at dating the one guy I’d fallen for. It all just felt pointless. Then again, maybe the Katrina of two years ago wouldn’t have listened and would have fought hard to win him back no matter what he’d said.
I sensed that the three of us would all be moving on bettered from our conversation today—only I didn’t know which direction Braydon and I would be going.
“You want to go home, and order in?” he asked as we stood facing each other on the sidewalk.
“No thanks. I’m tired and a bubble bath sounds nice.” I just needed some alone time to sort through my feelings, and I thought it might do Braydon some good to do the same. Today had been a lot to take in.
He nodded in understanding. Truthfully, the heaviness of the past hour had affected us both. I could tell he wouldn’t mind being alone with his thoughts for the night.
“I’ll see ya.” I gave him one last hug and left.
I made it only a few steps, though, before the coffee was coming back up into a nearby trash can. Lovely. After I’d gotten sick, I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and ventured a glance over my shoulder. Braydon had seen the entire thing. Shit.
He was at my side, supporting me with an arm around my waist in a matter of seconds. “What’s wrong? Are you still sick?”
I let out a groan and closed my eyes. “I’m sorry. I think it was the coffee. It was too much for my stomach.”
“Don’t be sorry, I’m just worried about you.”
I leaned into his side, thankful for the support. I just wanted to lie down in my bed, safe and warm.
“How long have you been sick? Be honest with me.”
“A month,” I croaked.
“Fuck, sweetheart. I’m taking you to the doctor. No arguments. Come on.”
Taking my hand firmly, he pulled me to his side and led me into a nearby cab. I leaned on him for support, much too weak to argue, and Braydon silently held me as the cab sped away for the hospital.
20
After a battery of questions and tests from the doctor and nurses, Braydon and I waited in the cold, sterile hospital room still no closer to an answer. They wheeled a machine into the space and dimmed the lights to perform an internal ultrasound to see what was going on inside my stomach. The technician probed me with a little wand and stared intently at the image on the screen.
Our relationship changed in an instant with three little words.
“Congratulations. You’re pregnant.”
The floor of my stomach dropped away. I wanted to pull the bitchy ultrasound tech by her ponytail and demand someone else repeat the scan. Someone who could make sense of this alternate universe I must have entered. Braydon wasn’t even my boyfriend. He’d never be okay with a baby. Then why was he looking at the screen like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen?
“Can you do that again? That heartbeat thingy?” he asked. He laced his fingers between mine and squeezed.
The ultrasound tech used the uncomfortable wand once again. The little black-and-white blob on the screen danced.
“We made that, kitten. You and me,” he whispered, his voice full of awe.
She adjusted a knob on the machine and the thumpity-thump sound kicked up again, insistent and sure. There was no doubting there was a baby in there. Either that or a horse was galloping in the next room. “Based on your last menstrual cycle and the measurements I’ve taken, you’re seven weeks and four days along. Congratulations again.” She removed the wand and handed me a box of tissues. “Go ahead and get cleaned up, and I’ll print some of the pictures for you to take home.”