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“Whoa, whoa. Calm down, babe. I didn’t…” Becca considers me for a moment. “I didn’t think you felt this strongly about them.”
I sniffle through a tight laugh. “I didn’t really know, either. Not until thinking about being apart from them for good really sunk in.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then I let all the thoughts I’ve been holding in spill out of me.
“I knew being with Noah was risky and ‘wrong’—” air quotes frame the word “—but it never felt that way when we were together. It felt amazing, and even after we put a stop to the physical stuff, seeing him every day and chatting with him became something I looked forward to. I love being with them. Both of them. Elijah is incredibly sweet and smart, and he’s very considerate and empathetic. I feel protective over him after such a short period of time, but it’s like I can’t help myself. He’s my responsibility, and I want it to stay that way forever. I want him to be mine.”
I don’t bother cleaning up my face as tears rain down my cheeks.
“I love that little boy so much. And…Noah…I don’t want to say goodbye.”
Becca takes a drink of her coffee and exhales deeply. When she looks back up at me, she takes both my hands and smiles.
“You’re my best friend, Liv. I want you to be happy. Seeing you like this sucks. If being with Noah and Elijah was a fling, something you were doing for fun to pass the time, I’d say cut your losses and get out of there. They can figure it out on their own. But—” she gives my hands a squeeze “—I don’t think this is a fling.”
I can’t say the words, but I shake my head at her, heaving out a shuddering breath.
“It’s obvious you care for them. Both of them. Don’t forget I’ve seen you date, and this—” she gestures around me “—is way more than I’ve ever seen with anyone else. So, I think you need to talk to him. About everything.”
“Really?” My eyes go wide.
“If the tables were reversed, you’d hate being kept out of the loop, and you’d want a say in what was going on. Look, there’s no way that Noah doesn’t feel something for you, too. Have you seen yourself?”
I laugh, shaking my head, and Becca continues.
“If he cares about you like you do for him, which is super fucking likely, then he’ll want to fight for what you guys have. Give him the chance to say yes or no. If he can’t risk it, you’ll have an easy decision, but if he wants to try this with you, you’d hate yourself for leaving without knowing.”
I nod at Becca, sniffing up the last of my tears and taking a few deep breaths.
“Okay. I’ll call him.”
“Good. Now, go get some rest or something. All this stress can’t be good for the baby.”
Becca winks at me, and we spend the rest of our impromtu lunch date in comfortable silence with the occasional bout of small talk.
She hugs me as I stand up to go, and I drive back to my dad’s place to get the aforementioned rest. Napping has never been something in my routine, but as I lay down in the bed, sleep washes over me in a matter of minutes.
The nap is fitful, but fatigue, like no other, keeps me falling back to sleep even as I keep tossing and turning. It’s like I can’t get comfortable no matter what I do; my body feels strange and just off.
I wake up fully about two hours later and blink against the afternoon light that filters into the room. I look around the room, stretching out the stiffness, and I see my phone has a few text messages waiting for me.
Switching off the “do not disturb” that I flicked on for my nap, I take a look at the texts. There’s one from my dad hoping I’m feeling better and asking if he can bring me anything for dinner and another from Becca saying that she hopes I’m doing okay and ensuring me that talking to Noah is the right thing to do.
The last two text messages are from Mr. Steele himself.
Hey, Liv. I hope you’re feeling better. Please let me know if you think you’ll need tomorrow off too. It’s no problem at all.
Sent about an hour later, the second text from Noah reads,
Liv, please call when you can. Something’s come up, and I need to talk to you about it.
My stomach drops, and my heart hammers in my chest. Is it Natasha? Did she spill my secret?
I take a few moments to steady myself and gain some composure if it’s not, in fact, about the pregnancy. I don’t want to let that bomb drop before I’m ready, and not without the proper build-up, either.
My deep breaths do little to ease the pounding of my heart, though, and I call Noah.
After a few rings, he picks up, and Noah’s tone is short.
