Page 234 of Where We Stay

“Okay,” she begins carefully. “First of all, yes. It’s fast.”

I groan and drop my head back against the couch.

“But fast doesn’t automatically mean wrong, B.”

I look down at my chai again.

“And Dean is probably going to shit himself for about five minutes because that man carries enough abandonment issues to fill this entire house.”

A laugh escapes me. “True.”

“But you’re not Courtney.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” G asks, raising her brows. “Because you’re sitting here deciding how he might react before you’ve even given him the chance.”

That shuts me up.

“You love him. He loves you. You’re already building a life with him and Aspen. This baby isn’t going to suddenly make Dean think you’re packing a suitcase.”

I look away from her. “You don’t know that.”

“No,” she admits, reaching over and squeezing my hand. “But I know Dean. And I know you.”

“What if he’s scared?”

“He might be scared, B. That doesn’t mean he won’t be happy.”

“I guess you’re right.” I release a heavy breath. “I’m about two more conversations away from blurting it out.”

“Bitch, I know I’m right.” G reaches for a breadstick. “Now we need to work out how you’re going to tell him without you having a complete breakdown.”

We spend the next couple of hours throwing around ideas, although mostly, we just eat everything on the table and talk about life.

I appreciate the normalcy.

* * *

When G starts gathering her things to drive me back to Dean’s, I look through her front window at the cottage next door.

“I need to go over there first,” I tell her.

She follows my gaze and immediately stands straighter. “I’m coming with you.”

“No.” I reach for her hand before she can argue. “I need to do this part by myself. Just wait here for me?”

G’s expression tightens, but after a moment, she nods. “I’ll be right here. You call out if you need me.”

The police released the cottage this morning, and Dean told me Logan and Knox went over once they were finished to secure the front door. I walk across the space separating our houses, each step heavier than the last.

The cottage looks exactly the same from the outside.

That pisses me off more than I expected.

The white porch. The little front garden. The stupid wind chime G bought me because she said the house needed “more personality.”

Normal.