Inflame

“Let me know when you’re ready to get out and then I’ll feed you.”

“Okay,” she replies softly, almost a whisper, and I can hear the exhaustion in her voice.

Making my way out to the kitchen, I whip up a couple of omelets then head back to check on Lucy, who’s right in the middle of rinsing out her hair. I sit on the edge of the tub and watch as she finishes.

“I’m ready,” she tells me, and I lean down to pull the plug so the water can drain.

Grabbing a towel, I gently rub her arms then wrap it around her shoulders before she grabs ahold of my hands so I can help her up. She stands stock-still in the tub as I tenderly rub her down, a routine we’ve fallen into the further along she’s gotten in her pregnancy. Once in the bedroom, she slips on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties while I towel dry her hair and then brush it out for her.

Taking hold of her hand, I lead her out to the kitchen, where I watch as she wolfs down her food.

“You ready for bed, baby?” I ask, and she shakes her head.

“No, I’m fine. I slept plenty in the car,” she replies, moving into the living room and settling on the sofa.

I follow her and sit beside her as she flips through the television stations. She finally decides to stop on some country music awards show and we mindlessly watch the various performers intermixed with the awards. Every time I try to work up the nerve to start the conversation, her eyes light up at the latest musician on the screen. I know I need to just come right out and start, but as soon as I think I have the right words in my head, they slip right off the tip of my tongue. I don’t miss the way she glances at me during commercials, and I know what she’s waiting for.

Once again, I’m too fucking late, because before I know it, she’s yawning bracing herself against the couch as she rises slowly from it. “I tried to make it through the whole show, but I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.” She leans down and gives me a kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning. Love you.”

And just like that, Lucy’s out of the room, and once again, I berate myself for freezing up when I had the chance to make everything right. Instead of joining her, I sit on the couch and think about everything that happened this weekend. Calling Tara what I did was harsh, even if I think she deserved it. The thing is that I don’t know if I was more pissed at her or myself. It wasn’t her fault Lucy found out that way. All of that blame rests solely on me. The longer I put this off, the further I’m going to push her away. Tomorrow. Once and for all, I’m going to lay it all out on the line for her and deal with whatever repercussions there are. With a renewed sense of clarity, I turn off the television and join Lucy in the bedroom. She’s fast asleep, and as much as I want the comfort of her embrace, I slide into bed and let her be, knowing she needs her rest.

THE NEXT morning, I wake to the sounds of someone shuffling around the room. Slowly, I come out of my sleepy haze and turn over, blinking as my eyes adjust. Lucy’s at the closet slipping on flat sandals. She holds her back as she walks over to her side of the bed, where she grabs her phone and her keys. She whips around to look at me when the sheets rustle as I move to sit up.

“What’re you doing, baby? We both have the day off. Why are you up already?”

Her gaze softens for a split second before she stands up straight, her eyes turning to cold steel. “I just need to get out for the day,” she responds quietly.

“Just give me a few minutes and I’ll come with you,” I tell her, scrambling out of the bed, but she holds her hand up to me.

“No, Kale, I need to get out for the day. On my own. I need some space, some time to think. More importantly, I think that’s what you need.”

The beat of my heart quickens to a rapid pace as her words register. “No, baby, I don’t need space. I’ll never need space from you. I’m ready to talk. Stay here and we’ll do just that. I promise. I’ll let it all out.”

She looks at me with remorseful eyes, and I think she’s about to give in. “No, Kale. I’ve waited two days. Two long, excruciating days where I’ve gone over every single scenario in my head, and now that you’re ready to talk, I’m not sure I’m ready to listen. That’s probably selfish, but I need this. This one day to get away from it all, to pretend Tara doesn’t exist and that she’s not some big elephant in the room that’s coming between us.”

“Baby, I was wrong for not telling you. I know that now. I’m ready. Please, don’t leave like this.”

She places a hand on her hip, raising her chin at me. “Tell me one thing, Kale. If Tara hadn’t been in the bakery that day, when did you plan on telling me about her? Or did you think she’d be a secret forever?”

I’m tongue-tied at her question, because in all honestly, I have no idea when I was going to tell her. She must be able to read my expression, because her eyes narrow.

“That’s what I thought. What is this, Kale? This thing between you and me? Am I substitute for what you once lost? Are you with me because I'm having your child? That was my biggest fear jumping into this relationship, and then I find out you had a secret pregnant fiancée in your past? Why would you keep that from me?"

Anger at her questioning flows through me, and I want to grip her shoulders and fucking shake it out of her. It’s irrational, especially since this whole thing is my fault, and I know she doesn't mean it—she's just trying to prove a point—but dammit, that insinuation fucking hurts.

"You know none of that is true. It’s all bullshit and it’s not why I’m with you. I don't need to prove I love you, Lucy. You know I do. I show you every single fucking day. I’m not the type of guy who needs to make some big grand gesture and sing to you like an idiot in a bar. I may have fucked up by not opening up a painful part of my past to you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. You need to trust me and trust my feelings. I love you. I love our baby, but dammit, Lucy, I love you first."

I watch as her eyes close, but not before I see the moisture in them. Hope swells in me that I’m getting through to her.

"You’re right, Kale. You don't need to perform a big grand gesture, and I wouldn't expect you to or want you to. But what I do want from the man who claims to love me is his honesty, his ope

I’m about to protest, to profess my undying love for her, when she holds her hand up. “The day I realized I love you was the day that you became my whole heart. Your happiness is mine, Kale, but more than that, your pain is my pain, too. If you grieve, I grieve with you, no matter the cause. At the same time, when you rejoice, I’m right there jumping up and down with you. But unless you’re willing to lay it all out on the line with me, then we’ll never be equal partners.” A slow tear trickles down her cheek, followed by another one. I move to go to her, but she backs up. “I want one thing to be clear. When I walk out that door, I’m not leaving you. I’m simply giving you space to work out your crap. I know you love me, Kale, but you need to decide if that’s enough. If you love me enough to trust me with your deepest wounds. I might not be able to heal them, but I’ll damn well try.”