Page 57 of Trial and Error

By the time I’ve got the kettle going, I hear the front door open and a heavy feeling of anxiety forms in the pit of my belly. I stay in the kitchen, listening as Imani drops her keys in the small glass dish that sits on the console table by the door.

“Bridget?” she calls out.

I take a deep breath as I step out of the kitchen.

As soon as I cross the threshold, I can smell warm cinnamon and my gaze zeros in on the brown paper bag that she holds. She stays still as I near, and as my eyes lift I frown.

She looks exhausted.

Her dark hair is haphazardly shoved into a bun on the top of her head that sits slightly on the side. Her usually glowing skin looks dull and her eyes have lost their shine. She’s wearing a burgundy sweat suit, and I immediately know something is really wrong—Imani would never leave the house wearing that, and knowing she’s left the house and gone to get food is worrying.

“What’s happened?” I ask, gesturing to my couch.

Imani lets out a wobbly smile and folds her arms across her body. “I’m sorry for showing up like this. I know things aren’t…” She trails off and her eyes find mine. “I had nowhere else to go.”

I nod slowly. “Let me make some tea.”

I don’t wait for her response as I head back to the kitchen, shoving all feelings of discomfort to the side because I can tell something is really bothering her. Imani is someone who rarely shows when something is hurting her, and the fact that she has come to me, even during a fight, makes me want to wrap her in a hug and help her through whatever she’s going through.

Imani is curled up on the couch when I make my way to the living room. I place the mugs in front of us and take a seat on the opposite end, leaving a little space between us.

She frowns, but says nothing as I grab a blanket and throw it over us. Imani’s eyes latch onto the engagement ring on my finger as I grab my tea.

“That’s a beautiful ring,” she says, and I stiffen.

“I doubt that’s what you came here to talk about,” I reply, ignoring the lump that’s beginning to form in the back of my throat.

It’s been nearly two weeks since the night with Malik, and I haven’t heard anything from her, until now. This is the first time we’ve gone longer than a few days without talking. I could see it in her face that night, that she was disappointed in me and hurt, but she didn’t give me a chance to explain.

It seems like there’s a lot I don’t know about you either, she had said, and it had knocked the air out of my lungs.

I’ve tried to contact her, calling her every other day, but I only ever got a text in response, telling me she’s busy and she would call me back but she never would.

“No you’re right, it’s not.” She nods. “But I’d like to, though.”

“Why are you here, Imani?” I ask, ignoring the last part of her sentence.

She looks down into her mug and then back up at me. “I’m pregnant.”

My eyes widen. “You’re pregnant?” She nods. “Congratulations!”

Imani looks sad. “Adam and I are taking a break.”

“Did he not take the news well?”

I find it odd, that they would be taking some time apart as whenever I’ve met Adam, he seems like the perfect family man. “No, he did,” she says. “So did his kids.”

“So…what’s the problem?”

“His ex-wife.”

“What does she have to do with this?”

“She’s been trying to get between us for months—stopping by the house unannounced and calling him all the time. I know they’ve got children together, but it’s not healthy how attached to him she is. I tried to explaining this to him, but he brushed it off, saying it was fine and that it didn’t bother him.”

I frown. “Did you tell him it bothers you?”

She nods. “Yeah, and he was really respectful about it and made the choice to tell her she was overstepping and it was something we didn’t appreciate, but she didn’t like that. Then the kids told her I’m pregnant and it all just blew up. She was telling me I was a homewrecker and that I ruined her chance of getting her husband back. Adam wasn’t there when she laid into me, but when I told him, he told me he’d fix it. But he didn’t seem that concerned and that resulted in an argument…and I told him I needed space.”