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I say nothing when the song plays on repeat all night.
Angie
Turns out my patient was a liar. Listening to Fancy did not make me happy.
Chapter 28
October 4th
Rafael
Angie’s been keeping busy between work and the Chestnut street 1house. Every day this week, she either gets out of work and goes straight there, or she’s video chatting with Ivy in her room all evening. She only goes to the fixer-upper when she knows I can’t. Like when I have practice after work.
When I went there a few days ago and saw the red and black walls in the living room and hot pink in the bathroom, I knew without even asking that this was her doing. I’m not going to question it. If this is what makes her happy and makes her want to live there with me, then I’ll let her paint the outside in glitter for all I care.
I’d love to talk to her about it, but my gut is telling me she’s intentionally avoiding me. Of course I scoured the internet looking for evidence, hoping that this behavior is normal for pregnant people. I easily found a reassuring answer, but I’m no less convinced this isn’t my fault.
Tonight, I’m going to sit her down and talk to her. We’ve always had great communication, so what’s going on now?
“Hey, I’m heading home early today,” I tell my staff as we wrap up the next year’s budget meeting. “Feel free to do the same.”
“Cool,” my controller, Michelle, nods. “How’s Angie doing?”
It’s not uncommon for me to field questions like this. I actually love it. Before she was pregnant, I only got them from family who know how close we are. But now that she’s carrying our babies, anyone who knows me even a little bit asks about her.
“She’s doing great,” I say, the half-truth eating away at me. “Babies are measuring on track. They’re kicking relentlessly now,” I smile, packing my laptop up. At least Angie has let me touch her belly this last week in a few fleeting moments. Nothing else though, and no sleepovers either.
I fucking hate my bed now. My room might be the same temperature as hers, but it’s cold and lonely.
But I don’t let that image stop me from my mission tonight. I’m going to head home early, make all her favorite foods, and talk to her. I’ve already canceled my plans with a couple of my teammates that we made a while ago. They’re both dads, so I didn’t have to explain myself to them. They get it.
I didn’t tell Angie I canceled my plans though, and when I glance at my messages as I walk out of the office, I read the last text from her sent yesterday.
Angie: Are you still planning on hanging out with Small Fry and Wheels tomorrow?
Raf: Yeah. Why? Do you need me to cancel?
Angie: No. Just wanted to confirm.
Angie: Thanks.
Thanks, period. Like it was an after-thought.
I take my time grabbing every grocery needed and extras just in case. As I check out from the bougie store, I see a phenomenal display of fresh flowers and grab a large bouquet. I’ve only bought her flowers on her birthday before. The weather is always so cruddy on February 20th, so I always get the brightest, summer-like flowers I can find. But based on the outfits she’s been wearing lately, I know she’s loving the fall season, so I make sure to pluck an autumn arrangement.
As soon as I get home and give Razz some quick loving, I put the flowers in a vase and get to work. I don’t even change out of my work clothes—I just get to work on the random assortment of dishes. Veggie tostadas, enchiladas, rice, beans, fresh fruit, a meatless meatloaf, garlic-mashed potatoes, broccoli with butter and a heavy dusting of Tajin. I even have several chocolate mousse tarts she’s been inhaling lately from the bakery. I have no idea what she’s in the mood for, but something here must be it.
As I take out the enchiladas from the oven and place them on the table with everything else, I hear the door open and my heart pounds in my ears. Suddenly I’m incredibly aware of our playlist filling the room. It’s a sexy little salsa number we love dancing to, and even though it’s one of our favorites for years, at this very moment it’s wholly wrong for what I want to convey. I don’t want her thinking I’m doing this as some grand gesture to get back into her panties or her bed. I simply want us to go back to what we’ve always been, but I need her to talk to me.
Angie’s rightfully shocked to see me here as she hovers in the threshold, hand still on the doorknob and wearing that cute olive-green dress I like. “What’s going on?” She looks at the flowers in the center of the table and back at me. “What is all this?”
Eagerly, I take a few steps toward her and smile before taking her into a hug. “I thought we could eat together and talk about what’s going on. How you’re feeling.”
She pushes me out of the hug gently and looks up at me with soft eyes and a confused look. “Raf, I’m sorry, but I made plans tonight,” she says and my heart sinks. “I wish you would have—” she cuts herself off from saying anymore.
I tug at the back of my neck. “I thought this was a nice surprise. Look,” I say and gesture to the table. “I made all the things you’ve been craving lately.”
Angie’s pained expression cuts my chest open. “I… I’m sorry but I made plans with someone tonight and I don’t want to cancel on them, Raf.”
