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Silence descends, my friends taking in my latest declaration.
“You’re considering becoming a single parent?” Nat asks, leaning forward and taking one of my hands in hers.
“I am,” I tell her truthfully.
Stella leans forward and grasps my other hand. “Wow, it’s a big step.”
“It is.” I give them a weak smile. “There are so many cons telling me I must be mad,” I admit with a sigh. “I have no idea how I’ll juggle full-time work with a baby. Where we’ll live. Childcare.”
“All those are doable. If you want them to be,” Stella says, squeezing my fingers. “On a more serious note. You know you’ll never be alone. You have us,” she tells me, her gaze moving to Nat.
“We’ll be the best surrogate mummies your little one could have,” Nat adds. The look they share brings tears to my eyes.
“You are the best,” I say, emotion clogging my throat.
“I love you guys,” I say to my two best friends.
“The feeling is mutual,” Stella replies, as they both squeeze my hands.
I’m not entirely honest when I tell the girls everything with Gabriel is fine. Ever since I fell asleep on the sofa, he’s been acting strange. I initially thought he was annoyed with me for invading his space and taking liberties. But after today, I’m not so sure. The whole way through our afternoon meeting, he sat staring at me, like he wanted to ask me something but then changed his mind.
We should be celebrating. Callahan decided to give us his business, but instead, the atmosphere is thick and almost suffocating.
I’m relieved when it’s finally time to leave the office. I need to speak to Gabriel and clear the air. Whatever it is, I can’t ignore it any longer.
I grab a clean teaspoon and taste the chocolate chilli I’ve made for dinner. I need it to be perfect. Whatever is wrong, I need to fix it if I can. If I don’t, the next couple of weeks will probably become more strained. Yes, I can stay in my room, but I don’t want to damage our professional relationship.
I sag against the kitchen unit, exhausted. What with Vince’s affair, the pregnancy bombshell, the flood, and now Gabriel, I’m not sure how much more emotional upheaval I can take. Hopefully, the offer of a hotel is still viable should I need to move out.
I hear the door go and freeze. As usual, Gabriel makes his way upstairs to get changed. I’ve tidied up the kitchen in case I need to make a sharp exit. The only things left are the pans containing tonight’s dinner, and I must admit I’ve outdone myself. This recipe is delicious.
It’s ten minutes before Gabriel reappears, his hair damp from his shower. He’s changed out of his suit. Tonight, he’s in a t-shirt and jogging bottoms. The casual look gives him a different air to the office version of Gabriel, but then the man would probably look amazing in a bin-liner.
“Something smells good,” he says as he grabs two plates from the cupboard. This has become our nightly routine.
“Chilli Con Carne,” I say, noticing how his eyes are looking anywhere but at me. I’m not mistaken. Something is undeniably up.
“Delicious. Can I do anything?” he asks.
“No, everything is ready. I’ll bring this over.”
He moves to the table while I carry the pans.
I take his plate and load it up, first with rice and then with the vegetarian chilli I’ve prepared.
I help myself before taking a seat at the table next to him.
An awkward silence descends. I look at Gabriel, his brows drawn, his face tight.
I place my knife and fork down. Resting my elbows on the table, I clasp my hands together over my plate.
There’s a tightness around his mouth. As if sensing my gaze, he stops eating and looks up, his expression almost sombre.
I swallow past the lump that’s formed in my throat.
“Have I done something wrong?” I ask. Gabriel flinches. Yep, something I’ve unquestionably done. “I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what it is,” I add.
He lifts his hand, running it through his nearly dry hair.
