Page 68 of Trial and Error

Harriet holds me in her embrace for a few more beats, and I feel a motherly warmth from her. As I pull back, I see Bridget watching us both with fondness, and I enjoy seeing the way her eyes twinkle as Harriet turns to look at her—her face full of unfiltered love.

“Aunt Harry has offered to do the flower arrangements for our wedding,” Bridget tells me. “As well as my bouquet. Isn’t that wonderful?”

I nod and place a hand on her lower back, rubbing small circles there and she leans into the touch. “That’s extremely generous.”

“I was thinking about blue and white hydrangeas, some lilacs in there, too,” Harriet explains as she puts together a bouquet.

I watch as she neatly arranges the blue hydrangeas along with some white snapdragons. She wraps them in white tissue paper and then in brown paper before sealing it with tape and placing the bouquet gently in Bridget’s basket.

“Beautiful flowers,” Harriet says. “For a beautiful woman.”

Bridget leans forward and kisses Harriet’s cheek before pulling back and settling against my side.

As I look down at her, I can’t fight it any longer. I know this isn’t real and I know that inevitably we’ll have to end things, but I can’t help but hold on. I hold on to the thought of her—of us—and as my fingers wrap around the invisible string between the two of us, I know that when the time comes, I’m not going to be able to let go.

bridget

Spending the day with Elias has been nothing short of spectacular.

We spent most of our afternoon walking around the farmers’ market, and then we went into one of my favourite bistros for lunch. After hours of talking and getting to know one another, we walked back to his car and he drove me home, where he came in and helped me put away the groceries and put my flowers into the crystal vase that sits on my dining room table. The rest of the afternoon has been spent curled up on my couch, watching reruns of Grey’s Anatomy and drinking endless mugs of tea.

His large hand rests just above my knee and covers the expanse of my upper leg, his thumb stroking soft, lazy circles on my inner thigh. I rest my head against the arm of the couch and stretch out, my legs thrown over his lap.

Elias’s other hand moves up and down my calves, his strong fingers massaging them slightly, and I let a satisfied moan slip through my lips as he works the muscles. I let myself soak in the way being with him makes me feel. Everything is just so easy and stress free with him, and I know he really would enhance my life. He is everything I’ve looked for in a man and I can’t help but wish this was real.

Elias’s phone rings, and he gives my calf a squeeze before removing it to reach for his phone. “Hey,” he says as he looks over at me with a small smile, but that vanishes as quickly as it came. “Shit, are you all right? What do you need me to do?”

I find myself leaning up and mirroring Elias’s facial expressions as he listens to whoever it is on the phone. My hand reaches across and lands on his forearm, and suddenly I feel sick. Fuck, what if something has happened to Helen? My skin turns clammy at the thought, but when he reaches over, placing his hand over mine and giving it a squeeze, I know he knows what I’m thinking. He shakes his head softly, and I let out a sigh of relief.

He hangs up pretty swiftly and turns to look at me. “Isobel’s water broke,” he says, and I gasp. “They need someone to look after Olivia for the night, so I’m going to head over to their place.”

Elias leans forward and presses a whisper of a kiss against my lips and stands. I watch as he walks toward the apartment door and pulls his shoes on. He makes his way back over to me and pulls me up from the couch and wraps his arms around my waist as he buries his face into the crook of my neck. His lips brush against the soft spot in between my neck and collarbone and my skin prickles under his touch.

I loop my arms around his neck and pull him against me. The two of us stand there for a while, softly swaying side to side. He breathes me in, and I feel secure in his embrace, enjoying the way he engulfs me completely. He gives me one last squeeze before pulling back, his arms still wrapped loosely around me.

“I don’t suppose you want to come babysit an overly energetic three-year-old with me?”

I look up at him and say, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Isobel is sitting on the edge of the couch when we arrive, her bangs stuck to her damp forehead. She’s clutching both sides of her belly as she pants loudly, her face scrunched up in discomfort. Oscar crouches down in front of her and helps slide her feet into a pair of shoes and then moves his hands to cover hers as she breathes through another contraction. Olivia is sprawled out next to her mom, her thumb in her mouth as she watches a cartoon, not paying attention to anything or anyone around her.

Elias kicks off his shoes and hangs his jacket on the rack before moving to help me out of mine. He puts my things next to his, and I revel in the domestication and how much I enjoy seeing our things next to each other.

Oscar and Isobel have a huge house and I can’t help but gawk at it’s gorgeous interior. While the front door leads right to the living room, it’s still spacious enough to feel like a separate room altogether. The walls are a dark blue and complement the dark wooden floors—they’ve done an amazing job at making it look modern but still homey. There are picture frames meticulously placed on the walls, ranging from family pictures to drawings that look to have been drawn by Olivia.

It’s perfect.

As we near the couch, Isobel looks up from where Oscar kneels before her and sends us both an exhausted grimace.

“I was hoping to see you,” she breaks out, her voice cracking slightly. “Holy fuck…”

Oscar rises to his feet and pulls Elias into a hug before repeating the action with me, and I smile at their welcoming nature. When he steps back, he tucks his hands into the pockets of his sweats and looks down at Olivia.

“We haven’t had a chance to feed her yet, but there’s plenty of food in the fridge. She’ll need a bath and she will demand a bedtime story before she even thinks about falling asleep.”

Oscar looks up at Elias and clasps his shoulder in his hand. The two of them are eerily similar and I hadn’t noticed it until now. The way they hold themselves, the way they talk, their personas, everything about them is cohesive.

Olivia’s ears must be burning, because as soon as Oscar stops speaking, she drags her attention away from the TV and her gaze zeroes in on Elias. She bounces off the couch, running toward him, before propelling into his arms. He laughs as he hoists her up and she giggles wildly.