Page 96 of Through the Storm

By the end of the week, I start hating Katy’s laptop a little.

Which is insane because I really am fucking proud of her and her books, and I want to support her dreams.

But every time I come over lately, she’s curled up somewhere writing. And it’s starting to feel like an excuse not to talk to me.

At the kitchen counter while we eat together.

On the couch while we watch TV.

And every time I ask what she’s working on, she gives me the same small shrug.

“Just stuff.”

She used to read that “stuff” to me out loud. But now it’s like she doesn’t want me inside her head anymore.

Tonight, I’m stretched across her bed half watching ESPN while she sits against the headboard beside me typing nonstop. The room glows gold from the lamp on her nightstand. A week ago, she would’ve been halfway on top of me by now.

Now there’s so much space between us. And not just in the physical sense.

“You’re writing a lot lately,” I say. I don’t want to be an unsupportive dick. But I can feel her pulling away from me, and I need to do something about it.

Her fingers pause for half a second before starting again. “Deadlines. I want it all to be done before the baby comes.”

“Oh.” Well, that makes perfect fucking sense, and now I feel like an asshole.

Silence settles again except for the sound of her keyboard clicking softly. But my chest still feels weird. I rub a hand over it. “Is it good?”

She glances over finally. “What?”

“The book.”

A small smile touches her mouth. “I think so.”

I nod, even though something uncomfortable twists low in my stomach.

Katy belongs in this world of books and words. Meanwhile, I barely survived freshman English and still have to reread texts three times sometimes before answering them.

The thought slips in before I can stop it. Maybe she’s starting to remember that. Maybe once the excitement wore off, she realized loving me and trusting me to help raise her child are two completely different things.

My throat tightens.

Katy keeps typing. Technically next to me, but farther away than she’s ever been.

KATY

Ben’s family keeps pulling me closer like they’ve already decided I belong to them. And every single time they do, panic crawls higher up my throat.

His mom sends me baby toys. His dad asks if he likes the crib his mom bought for their house so he can start assembling it.

Ben keeps sending baby name suggestions in their family group chat to be voted on like this is happy and simple.

And the terrifying part is that they mean it.

They actually do love me.

But what happens when the baby comes and it’s not Ben’s? Or when Ben doesn’t make the NFL because of us?

What happens when all this warmth disappears? When they look at me differently? When they realize I wasn’t worthy of all this trouble?