me.

It makes me wonder if him showing up just as I’m leaving is a

coincidence or a suitable convenience. He looks down at the trash bag I’m
holding and he takes it from my hands. “Let me get this.”
I let him. He takes that bag and another one down to the apartment while
I gather my things. He and Marshall are walking back inside the apartment
as I’m preparing to walk out.
Ryle grabs the last bag of stuff and begins to head toward the front door
again. I’m following behind him when Marshall gives me a silent look,
asking me if I’m okay with Ryle going downstairs with me. I nod. I can’t
keep avoiding Ryle forever, so now is as good a time as any to discuss
where we go from here.
It’s only a few floors between their apartment and mine, but the elevator
ride down with Ryle feels like the longest it’s ever taken. I catch him staring
at my stomach a couple of times and it makes me wonder how it must feel,
going three months without seeing me pregnant.
My apartment door is unlocked, so I push it open and he follows me
inside. He takes the last of the stuff to the nursery and I can hear him
moving things around, opening boxes. I stay in the kitchen and clean things
that don’t even need cleaning. My heart is in my throat, knowing he’s in my
apartment. I don’t feel scared of him in this moment. I just feel nervous. I
wanted to be more prepared for this conversation because I absolutely hate
confrontation. But I know we need to discuss the baby and our future. I just
don’t want to. Not yet, anyway.
He walks down the hallway and into the kitchen. I catch him looking at
my stomach again. He glances away just as quickly. “Do you want me to
assemble the crib while I’m here?”
I should probably say no, but he’s half responsible for the child growing
inside of me. If he’s going to offer physical labor I’m going to take it, no
matter how angry I still am at him. “Yeah. That would be a big help.”
He points toward the laundry room. “Is my toolbox still in there?”
I nod and he heads toward the laundry room. I open the refrigerator and
face it so I don’t have to watch him walk back through the kitchen. When
he’s finally in the nursery again, I close the refrigerator and press my
forehead against it as I grip the handle. I breathe in and out as I try to
process everything that’s happening inside of me right now.
He looks really good. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him, I forgot how
beautiful he is. I have an urge to run down the hallway and jump into his