Our Little Secret Read online

  “Of course, you have a say.”

  “You seem to think I’m moving in with you,” I reminded him. “We’ve never discussed this. I’ve already planned to put the baby in my room. A lot of people share rooms with their infants.”

  “Why would you do that when I have a townhouse with three bedrooms?” he asked.

  Again, he was acting like this was the obvious conclusion. Like I was an idiot for thinking there could ever be another option. Like I didn’t get to decide where I lived.

  “The baby will be in the bedroom with me no matter where I live.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Forever? You plan on bunking with your ten-year-old son?”

  “No, I would evaluate our needs as the child got older.”

  “You seriously think living in this apartment, this one-bedroom apartment that can’t be more than a thousand-square feet, is better than my townhouse?”

  “You act like I live in a hovel!”

  “I’m not saying you live in a hovel, but your apartment is so much smaller. We got all this amazing nursery stuff. Where are you going to put a crib in your room?”

  “The baby won’t need a crib for a while,” I retorted. “Read your little books. He will be in a basinet.”

  “For how long, River?” he asked with his hands in the air. “You aren’t being rational. I understand you might have an attachment to this place, but it isn’t reasonable.”

  “I’m not being rational? Seriously? You just told me I’m suddenly going to be moving. Who’s the one not being rational? Where do you get off deciding my life?”

  “I’m not trying to decide anything,” he said. “I’m being reasonable. You’re out of work and expecting a baby. My baby. Obviously, I’m going to take care of you.”

  “I’m not out of work,” I said. “I’m working from home. I can get a job anytime I want. I’m not exactly starving.”

  “Living with me makes financial sense,” he said. “It saves money. We’ll be under the same roof. I want my child in my life. Why would I come over here to visit? And don’t act like me moving in here is an option. That makes zero sense.”

  I wasn’t sure if he was aware of how rude and condescending he was being, but it was pretty brutal. He was making me feel like I was a failure in some way. “I didn’t ask you to move in here,” I shot back. “We have never discussed our living arrangements or what we would do once the baby was here. We’ve never discussed us or anything else.”

  “Did you think I was just going to pop in and out to visit?” he scoffed. “Give me a break, River. You know where this is headed. Moving in with me is the logical next step. We’re supposed to be a team in this. It’s a little hard to be a team when I’m on the other side of town. Are you really going to be the one getting up with the baby every night and dealing with it all day? Don’t you think I should have a part in this child’s life?”

  “Yes! That doesn’t mean you get to dictate my life! We are both adults. I’m not a child to be let free from my father’s control and put under your control. I’m a grown woman and I can and will make decisions for myself.”

  “Why are you mad at me?” he asked. “I’m trying to do what’s best for you and our child. I assumed we were on the same page.”

  “That’s what you get for assuming and not talking to me. I had no idea that’s what you were thinking. You’ve never mentioned it before now. I’ve been making plans to have this child here in my room. You can’t just pull the rug out from underneath me.”

  I threw my hands in the air and stomped into the bathroom. My itty-bitty single bathroom. It wasn’t as fancy as his place, but how much space did one person need in a bathroom?

  32

  Lukas

  I stared at the closed bathroom door and tried to figure out whether this was just a burst of hormones or something bigger. Call me an idiot, but I truly assumed she was moving in with me. In fact, I was certain we had discussed it at some point.

  I walked to the kitchen and got myself a glass of water. I leaned against the counter and looked around her apartment. It was small. She was packed in here as it was. It was neat and tidy, but once the baby came, she was going to have little room to move. What happened when the baby got older and wanted to crawl?

  As soon as she came out of the bathroom, assuming she came out, I was going to present my new facts to her. I felt like she was cutting me out of the equation. She was making decisions about what I would do just as much as I was doing it to her. She was pissed, but I was pretty sure I could be mad as well.

  “I’m not leaving,” I called out when she stayed in the bathroom for several minutes. I had a feeling she was hoping I would just leave. Not a chance. This conversation was not over. Not even close.

  “Just go!”

  “No. We need to talk about this.”

  The door was jerked open. She stepped out and pulled her hair up into a bun on her head as she stalked toward me. She was pissed. She acted like she was preparing for a brawl. I hoped that wasn’t where this was headed. I wasn’t interested in an actual fight.

  “I’d like to have a rational conversation about this,” I calmly said.

  “I’m being rational,” she snapped. “Don’t act like I’m the one being ridiculous.”

  “Can we sit?” I asked.

  She walked to the couch and flopped down. “I’m sitting. Is my couch acceptable for your fine ass?”

  I frowned. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Didn’t think so,” I said and sat down. “I think your place is cute and it was fine for just you, but what am I supposed to do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Am I supposed to stay here?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess.”

  “Did you plan on me being a part of this at all?”

  “Yes.”

  “It certainly doesn’t sound like that,” I said. “You’re basically cutting me out of the equation.”

  “I’m not cutting you out,” she insisted. “You work full time. I didn’t know what your plans are.”

  “So, is your plan for me to just come over on the weekends? Am I supposed to take the baby back to my place on the weekends?”

  “No!” she exclaimed. “That’s not what I’m saying. I guess I didn’t think that far in advance.”

  “But you thought about staying here and setting the baby up in your room,” I reminded her. “I feel like you weren’t even including me in your life. In the baby’s life. Where did you see me fitting into this place?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just assumed you would come over.”

  “Am I allowed to have clothes here?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I nodded. “Where? Where would I put them?”

  “I don’t know, in the closet.”

  “And where are you going to put the baby’s clothes?” I asked.

  “Stop it! You sound like my father! You’re acting like this is impossible. It’s not like I’m the first person to have a baby and expect to live with it in a one-bedroom apartment. It’s a tiny human. It doesn’t exactly take up a lot of room.”

  “Its stuff does,” I said. I hated calling it an it. This was why I needed to know if it was a boy or a girl. A he or a she.

  “Do you think the baby cares if he lives in a little apartment or your big townhouse? Do you think an infant knows where it lives? Knows the zip code? You’re acting like I live in the ghetto and your place is on Rodeo Drive!”

  I held up my hands. “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill.”

  “Am I?” she questioned. “This baby will have everything he needs. It doesn’t matter if the baby has a thousand square feet or three thousand square feet. It’s not like the baby knows. All he needs is love. Love and his most basic needs taken care of, which he will have.”

  “I know that, but why are you excluding me from this equation?” I asked.
r />   “I’m not excluding you. Why are you judging me?”

  I leaned back. “What? What are you talking about? I’m not judging you.”

  “Yes, you are,” she said. “You’re looking at my apartment with your lip curled. You’re acting like it’s some rundown dump and unworthy of your presence.”

  “That is not what I’m saying at all,” I insisted. “I was trying to be realistic. I was trying to think about what was best for our child. I think having us both under the same roof is for the best. I know that’s what I want. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “Yes, I mean, it is, but I just don’t know how that looks,” she said. “I really had not thought about the specifics.”

  “We both want to be there for the baby. We want the best for our child. We can make sure our child gets the best we can buy. If we are living together and pooling our resources, we can afford a lot more. It’s not just about the money. We’ll be able to share the responsibility of caring for a child. I’ve been around my brother and sisters when they have a new baby in the house. It’s no joke. Both parents end up sleep deprived. They struggle to shower or even eat. Why would either of us go this alone when we have each other to lean on? It’s the responsible, logical solution.”

  “What is?” she asked. “Living together?”

  “Yes.”

  “But we can only live together at your house,” she said. Her tone said she didn’t like that idea.

  I couldn’t believe we were even having this discussion. It was so obvious. She was being overly sensitive. “I’m not saying that,” I said. “I’m saying my house has the room. You wouldn’t have to think about what happened when the child got older and grew out of the space. Our baby won’t have to move from the place he is comfortable in. There won’t be any adjustment to a new home. It’s very logical. I know you would be able to see it’s the best option if you took a step back and looked at it from my point of view.”

  She got quiet. A little too quiet. I realized I said something wrong. I couldn’t go back. I should have just left the subject alone. I should have quit while I was ahead. I should have gone home when it first started.

  “Do you remember the conversation we had after my argument with my father?” she asked in a voice that was way too calm.

  I nodded. “Most of it, yes. Why?”

  “You told me I was smart and amazing and a bunch of other stuff. You told me I was making smart decisions. You told me I should keep doing what I did. Did you not go to my father and tell him I was capable of making decisions for myself? Didn’t you say I should do what made me happy?”

  There was no point in answering the question. She already knew the answer. By confirming what she already knew, I was making it worse. By denying it, I was making it worse. This was evidence of my lack of knowledge and experience in the relationship department. It was like staring down a wild animal. I either got big or I ran. I wasn’t sure which was the right choice.

  I cleared my throat. “I do trust you to make solid decisions,” I said carefully. “You are smart, and I don’t doubt your ability to make good decisions. I just—”

  “Go.”

  “What?”

  “You need to leave, please. I need some time to think about this.”

  I sighed and tried to take her hand. She jerked it away. “Don’t. I’m pissed. Just give me some space. I need time to think.”

  “River, please,” I said. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to upset you. I made assumptions and that was stupid.”

  “Yes, yes it was,” she said. “Please go.”

  I got to my feet. I didn’t want to upset her. It couldn’t be good for the baby. “I’ll go, but this is something we need to talk about.”

  “I’m not in the mood,” she said.

  “I understand that,” I said. “I will call you later.”

  She didn’t get up. She didn’t say another word. I grabbed my keys and phone and left the apartment. I drove home and tried to think about where I went wrong. How could she not see how reasonable it was for us to live at my place? She wasn’t irrational. She was very logical. She was the kind of woman who liked to plan. How could she overlook something so obvious?

  When I got home, the first thing I did was head upstairs to the room I had cleaned out in preparation for the baby. I stared at the paint colors I had on the wall. I was expecting River to make the choice. I knew she had a penchant for pastels. I had picked up samples in just about every color. Today, she was supposed to know what pastel color she was leaning toward after she knew the gender.

  “Fucking Brad,” I growled. I closed the door and walked out. It was supposed to be another surprise for her. With the way my day was going, I didn’t dare leave the house. I had run into some seriously shitty luck.

  I changed into something more comfortable before going back downstairs to find something to eat. This was not how I imagined my evening going. I thought River and I could go out for a nice dinner and then either back to her place or mine.

  “Why? Why in the hell are we both paying for housing?”

  I was a finance guy. She was usually at my place, which was why I assumed she would move in with me. I knew she liked it here. I didn’t want to sound like a pompous ass, but my house was comfortable. It was large and spacious, and she was welcome to add her personal touch. Maybe I should have led with that.

  “Idiot,” I muttered.

  I should have asked her if she’d like to take the things back to my place. That would have been an opening into the conversation we needed to have. But no. I had to open my big mouth and do the one thing I knew she hated. I pushed her to do what I wanted. I had done what her father would do.

  Now, I needed to figure out how to make it right. I wasn’t sure how I could backtrack while still angling to get her to move into my place.

  33

  River

  I didn’t know if I should cry or scream. I was pissed. I knew that much, but I was trying to pinpoint exactly why I was pissed. It was a combination of things. I got up and grabbed my phone.

  “Miss me already?” she answered.

  “I’m coming over,” I told her. “I’ll help you clean up.”

  “Aren’t you with Lukas?” she asked.

  “No. I made him leave. He pissed me off.”

  “Like pissed you off and he went to buy you pickles or something or pissed you off and won’t be back tonight?”

  “He is not coming back tonight and if he does, I will kick his ass right back out,” I said with vehemence.

  “Oh no,” she said with a sigh. “Stay home. I’ll come to you. I don’t want to clean up anymore. I’ll bring the leftovers and pick up some ice cream. I might get some wine for me, unless that isn’t fair.”

  “No, get wine,” I said. “There’s no reason you have to be punished for me getting knocked up.”

  “Punished?” She laughed. “You’re not being punished. Most people call this a blessing.”

  “I do. I’m just in a shitty mood.”

  “I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” she said.

  I changed into my fat pants and a loose shirt. My eye caught on the pile of things in the corner. It was a lot of stuff, but with a little organizing, it would fit. I picked up the teddy bear Lincoln’s little girl had given us. I hugged it close. I was looking forward to my baby getting to hug the bear. I was anxious for his or her arrival. But he couldn’t come just yet. I wasn’t ready. I needed to figure out our accommodations since they were apparently not good enough for our child.

  Gwen showed up a little later with a bag filled with plastic containers. I was suddenly very hungry. We sat at the table. I stuffed my face while she sipped wine.

  “Tell me what happened,” she said.

  “He assumed I was going to move in with him,” I blurted out.

  “Is that a bad thing?” she asked with confusion.

  I shrugged. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he
never talked to me about it. He just assumed I was going to live here until my lease was up in two months. Then he was just going to pack me up and move me into his place. He insulted me. He said my apartment was small. His place is bigger.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “He has a townhouse,” I said.

  “How big?”

  “Three bedrooms,” I said in a quiet voice. “But that’s not the point.”

  “What is the point?”

  “He acted like this was just the way it was going to be,” I said with frustration. “He didn’t even ask me if I wanted to move to his place. Maybe I wanted to move to another apartment. He just made this decision for me without even mentioning it to me. He said it was dumb to carry all the baby stuff up to my apartment because we’d only have to move it again in a few months. What the hell? That’s how he asks me to move in?”

  “I agree it lacked some finesse,” she said. “Have you guys talked about where you would live when the baby was born?”

  “No!”

  “But you guys have agreed you are together, like you are going to raise the baby together?” she questioned.

  “Honestly, Gwen, we haven’t really talked about any of that. We’ve just kind of glossed over all of it. I was always planning to put the baby in my room.”

  “And where did you plan on him fitting into the picture?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Honestly, I just never thought that far in advance. It was stupid and naïve. I was focused on the baby.”

  “I get it, but I think maybe he feels like you cut him out,” she reasoned.

  “He knows I wouldn’t do that,” I said. “I want him to be in the baby’s life. I know he’s going to be an amazing father. He wants to live together because he says we are going to need the partnership to raise the baby. He was talking about the lack of sleep and the showering and all that stuff. He says I’m going to need help.”

  “I know single moms do it all the time, but he doesn’t want you to be a single mom. He wants to be involved. That’s not exactly common in my experience. Yes, there are some, but he is willing to give up sleep. That’s a big deal.”