“Aww, well, thank you,” he said, both hands cradling the phone.
I stepped in further, my brows drawn down. He spun in a circle slowly, pacing the floor, and when his eyes met mine, his expression grew serious.
“Hey, listen, I’ve got to go,” he said, lowering his phone without warning.
“Who were you talking to?” I asked, my voice powerless. The look on his face—the shame, the denial, it was all too familiar.
“Sorry. Just Jason, from the hardware store. He called to wish us congratulations.”
“Why were you hiding out in here?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.
He shoved the phone into his pocket with a scoff. “I wasn’t hiding out. I didn’t want to wake Gray. Was I being too loud?”
I shook my head. “No, I was just worried about you. I couldn’t hear the shower anymore.”
He grabbed a comb from the top of his dresser and ran it through his hair. “You shouldn’t be worried about me, sweetheart. You should be on the couch, resting.” He placed the comb back down and slid an arm under mine. “Let me help you. It should be about time for your medicine, isn’t it?”
I winced as he pulled us forward, then he realized he was moving too fast and slowed down. “Sorry.”
“I already took it,” I told him, not bothering to mention it was late.
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he said, helping me to sit down once we arrived at the couch. “Do you want some lunch?”
I nodded halfheartedly, my mind still on the phone call. “I didn’t know you and Jason were close.” He pulled the table closer to me so I could prop up my swollen feet and walked into the kitchen, glancing back.
“Huh? Oh, we’re not. I think he was hoping I’d say I was coming back to work, honestly. They’re short-staffed. I didn’t take the bait.” He didn’t look me in the eye as he said it—too busy digging through drawers—and eventually pulled out the cutting board.
“Well, it was nice of him to call, anyway.”
“Mhm,” he said, opening the fridge. I couldn’t help wondering what he was hiding and whether or not I was overreacting. Ben had never been one to hide things from me. He knew about my history with Nate, but now I had the inclination that he was hiding his phone calls, and though I tried to brush it off, the tiniest voice in my head was screaming the loudest.
Something is not right.
Chapter Four
“Just make sure to warm the milk before you feed him, but test it on your wrist to be sure it’s not too hot. And you may have to work with him. He was resisting the bottle a bit yesterday.” I paced the apartment, checking to be sure I had everything, though I’d laid it all out the day before. Pump, lunch, purse. I was trying to stay busy to keep from crying. That was my only goal.
“I’ve got it, babe,” Ben said. He rested an elbow on the countertop, cradling Gray in his arms. “I promise you we’ll be fine. And you’ll be home before you know it.”
I spun away from him, pretending to search the fridge for something as I squeezed my eyes shut. He was just two days shy of two weeks old. I’d had such a short time getting to enjoy him, but my client list was backing up. For the sake of my sanity, I couldn’t afford to miss any more work.
“I know you’ll be fine,” I said, spinning back around and walking toward them. I stroked Gray’s cheeks, leaning in and pressing my lips to his scalp. I inhaled the scent of him, wanting every note ingrained into my memory. “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“Do you want to hold him again before you go?” Ben asked, lifting Gray’s body toward me.
I held a hand up. “No. If I do,” my throat grew tight as fresh tears stung my eyes, “I’ll just cry.” It was too late. I already was.
Ben’s eyes grew sad, and he cocked his head to the side. “You don’t have to start back today, Palmer. Just take another week off.”
“It won’t be any easier then, either,” I said. “It’s like a bandage, right? Rip it off.” I wiped a tear away and stalked past him, lifting my bags. “I’ll have my phone with me, so if you need anything, just call. I have two meetings this afternoon, so I don’t know how much I’ll be able to text you, but if you call, I’ll pick up or call you right back. I should be home around five.”
Ben nodded, swaying in place with Gray as he began to fuss. He needed me. He wanted me. I was walking away.
I was so incredibly jealous of my husband. From the moment we found out we were expecting, I knew he’d be the one to stay home. I made three times what he did. He wouldn’t make enough to cover childcare. I carried the health insurance, his company didn’t have it. I enjoyed my job, he didn’t.
There were so many reasons that this was the most logical choice, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t feeling resentful at that moment. He was content, still dressed in pajamas, cradling the baby, while I was shoved into work clothes, still bleeding and sore, with swollen breasts and baggy eyes, trying to pretend to be the woman I was not even two weeks ago when everything in my life had changed.
I opened the front door, trying to keep my voice steady as fresh tears flooded my vision, ruining whatever makeup I’d attempted to apply. “I love you both.”
“We love you, too, Mama,” Ben said, waving Gray’s tiny hand. I sniffled, hugging them both again. At my touch, Gray began wailing, his mouth opening and closing like a fish waiting to be fed. “I’ve got him,” Ben promised, lifting Gray to his chest. “I’ve got you, don’t I, big guy?” He walked toward the kitchen, and I stood still, inadequate in every way. Already late for work and unable to feed my child. I was failing at everything.
I turned, stepping through the door and slamming it shut. My back rested against the wood of it as I gave in to the sobs that were so tight in my chest.
I walked down the steps, crying and snotting, one minute feeling like I could pull it together and the next desperate to turn around and run back to my child. None of what I was doing felt natural. Had we made a mistake? Should I have asked Ben to find something better? Given up a job that I love? I wanted to put Gray back in my belly. Take him with me wherever I went again like I had for nine months.
I stepped outside of our apartment building and hurried to my car across the street with blurring vision. Once I was in, I pulled the visor down, looking myself over, cleaning up my makeup, and turning on the radio. It would all be okay. I just had to make it through the next eight hours. After that, I’d be back home. I’d see him again.
I put the car in drive, hating everything about the way I felt as I drove farther and farther away from my whole world.
Thirty minutes later, I was walking into the office, my makeup fixed, hair fluffed, and fresh lipstick applied. I wished no one would ask about him. If I didn’t think about it, maybe it would hurt less.
I rode the elevator to the fifth floor with a man who talked loudly on his cell phone the whole way, thankful not to have to make small talk. When I stepped off the elevator and into the office, the familiar, clean scent hit me and put me at ease.
“Palmer!” Howie, my sweetheart of an assistant, called, waving as he stood from his desk. He rushed forward, holding his hands out. “Welcome back! Need me to take anything?”