Crazy Girl(85)

Allen’s body practically deflated as he let out a long exhale. “Well, that worked out well,” he sighed. He clapped his hands once, as he amped us up like we were about to go play a game of football. Looking to Deanna, she cut her eyes to me in a way that said she was beyond pissed with her husband. Allen took her by the shoulders and kissed her chastely on the cheek before meeting her gaze. “I’m doing this for us. I hope you know that.”

Tilting her head down, she responded, “Have a safe trip.”

Allen watched her for a moment, knowing she wasn’t okay, that this wasn’t okay, but he didn’t question it any further. In his mind, he had to go. Dropping to one knee, he kissed her belly. “Bye, little guy. Daddy will be home soon. Be good for Mommy.” They still didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl, but Allen always called the baby ‘little guy.’ When he stood, he took Deanna’s hand and kissed it, still staring at her with affection. She didn’t look up. Again, I saw it, that moment where he knew he should stop, take more time to work this out with her, not leave until they were on better terms, but he didn’t. Turning to me, he gave my cheek a quick peck. “Take care of my girl,” he murmured. “My little one, too.”

Quirking my mouth, I met his gaze and took a cue from him and communicated with my eyes, telling him how much he sucked with my stare. He frowned and bobbed his head once. He’d read my message loud and clear. But still…he left. Apparently, his suitcase was already in the car because he walked out farther on the porch and down the stairs toward the driveway. Glancing back to Deanna, I was prepared to hug her, listen to her cry or yell, but she inhaled deeply and pressed on her perfect Deanna smile and brushed at her dress as if something was on it, even though there wasn’t.

“Coffee?” she chirped as she spun and went to the kitchen.

Okay, so she didn’t want to talk about it. Message received.

I didn’t press. It seemed she needed to move on from it, and the best I could do was help her in any way I could. “Well, a weekend away sounds amazing,” I announced as I followed her. “What should I pack?”



We’d called Courtney and Kate to invite them as well, but neither could make it because they’d already made family plans for the weekend. So after a quick stop at my house so I could pack, we traveled up to Charlottesville. Antiquing wasn’t exactly one of my favorite things to do, but Deanna loved it. We went to four shops and while she perused I did my best to talk, to keep her mind busy so she wouldn’t think about Allen or their disagreement. To her credit, she laughed and seemed engaged. Looking back, I have no idea what I babbled about for so long. The evening ended pleasantly with her purchasing a silver baby rattle from the last shop we went to and a hearty dinner at a local pub.

Later that night, we were in bed, the room mostly dark except for one soft nightstand lamp, and it was quiet. I thought she’d fallen asleep and I was doing my best to remain still so not to disturb her. We’d walked around quite a bit today. She was turned on her side facing me, her eyes closed, one hand resting on her belly. I hoped I’d managed to take her mind off Allen for a while. Too bad I hadn’t managed to do the same for myself. I was on my back, staring at the ceiling, trying to stop my mind from thinking about him.

Wren.

I wondered how he was.

Where he was.

Did he think of me?

Try as I did, I could not fight it. I could not fight him. He always won in this battle.

And there he was, so real in my memories. He was driving, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on my knee, the sunlight hitting him through the driver’s side window, creating an iridescent filter around him, accentuating the perfect cuts of his face. His sunglasses were on and he turned to look at me, a wolfish smirk capturing his features as he sang along with the radio. I touched my hand to my chest and pressed, wincing. It ached. He’d found a place within me and now that place was void; empty. I’d let him go, pushed him away. It was as if I’d carved him from my body myself, and now that place inside of me where he’d once existed was hollow.

It had been hell to lose him. Worse to know ultimately, I had pushed him away. But I had been right to do it. That’s what I told myself, probably to lessen my grief. We were two complex people. Opposites in many ways. I was too soft for him, and he was too hard for me. And so I’d pushed away what I feared, and I’d have to own that part. But he owned a part in this, too, whether he accepted it willingly or not. He’d let me go. He’d stopped fighting. He’d stood like a stone pillar, unmoving, unwilling to let himself be vulnerable enough to chase after me. That was my fault. I was used to people leaving, so with him I’d insured he’d leave too.

“Can’t sleep?” Deanna asked, startling me. I twisted my neck so my eyes met hers.

“Characters are whispering to me,” I lied. “Did your little kickboxer wake you up?” I chuckled.

She rubbed her belly. “No. He’s been quiet tonight.” I watched her as she stared at her hand. I could tell something was on her mind. “Do you think Allen is cheating on me?” Her voice grew husky.

She was crying. Damn. Turning my body to face hers, I took her hand in mine.

“He just travels so much, ya know?” She sniffled. “Like, I wonder, does he really have to go on all these trips, or is he volunteering to go because maybe he met someone out there. Maybe my new shape repulses him.” The uneasiness in her voice made my belly twist. My beautiful friend had always had so much faith in her marriage; in her husband. It was something I admired about her, how she never doubted his love. In fact, I envied that about her—what did it feel like to live life knowing with such absolute certainty that the person you loved most in the world loved you just as much? I couldn’t imagine. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever have that with someone or not. And I knew in part I might never have it because there was so much about myself I doubted, but I never wanted to see Deanna lose that feeling. As much as I envied it, I admired it more and needed it to exist. I couldn’t bear to let her fall into the murky waters of doubt. It sucked there. I should know.