“He’s my friend!” I defended. “He’s taking care of me. That’s all. He doesn’t live here, he doesn’t sleep here. We’ve never had a romantic relationship.”
Her head shook back and forth in tiny little movements, no doubt trying to process my words.
I pulled out my phone, tapping quickly into my photos and scanning back five months to the day I’d taken the pregnancy test. I tapped on the photo I’d been looking for and handed her the phone, still swiping at my tears. It was a selfie of Jonas and me, sitting on our couch, the pregnancy test held up between us.
“It’s Jonas’s,” I reiterated as I tried to take in her reaction while being bombarded with all the conflicting emotions that came with the revelation. The joy, the grief, the guilt. I swallowed hard and forced the words out. “Jonas and I found out three weeks before he died. Three weeks. That’s all the joy we got to share before he died.”
She looked up from the phone, her face settling into an expression of stunned hurt. She blinked and opened her mouth a few times but couldn’t seem to get any words out.
“I couldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to share it.” I sniffed, swiping at my cheeks. “And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have found a time to tell you, but I’ve just been…” I held out my arms, looking around me, trying to find the right answers and the right reasons and the right excuses. “I’ve just been…” A sob built up in my chest and I pressed my lips together to keep it down. I shut my eyes and felt the tears roll down my face.
I heard her move closer before I felt her hands framing my face.
“I didn’t forget him.” I whispered as I opened my eyes. “I didn’t cheat on him. I didn’t move on.”
Her eyes shimmered with tears. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
I took a shuddering breath as the shame rose up. “It’s all I have left of him. You have your whole family, but my only family was Jonas.” I gasped a few breaths as more tears flowed. “And he’s gone.”
She wrapped her arms around me, letting me cry into her shoulder for several minutes before pulling back and wiping away my tears. “I’m sorry, Libby,” she said as she blinked away her own tears. “I shouldn’t have believed it was true, but my mama-bear instincts just kicked in, and then when I saw you really were pregnant—” She looked down at my belly and then rested her hands on either side before looking up at me with tears dripping down her cheeks. “This is my grandbaby?” she whispered.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
Now it was her turn to cry. She wept into my shoulder, and in those moments we both forgave each other without having to say a word.
She pulled back, anxious with anticipation. “Is it a boy or a girl, do you know?”
I nodded, smiling through my tears. “It’s a girl.”
“A girl,” she sighed in elation and then covered her mouth and said in a bare whisper, “Jonas would have loved having a little girl.”
We were a weeping mess, but eventually we migrated to the couch and she asked me all about how I found out, and how I told Jonas. Morning sickness, cravings, due date, birth plan…on and on. She even asked about Sean and seemed to accept his presence for what it was. I happily told her all of it, relieved to be able to dive into all the baby details and the joy and anticipation that came with it. I hadn’t realized how good it would feel to share all of this with someone who would love this baby almost as much as I would, to share it with someone who had loved Jonas.
Watching the way her face would spring to life with happiness and then swoop down into grief was like looking in a mirror. Everything was a conflict. Every happiness marred by sadness. Every anticipation wreathed in regret.
♪♫♪
Louisa and I spent the next day shopping for baby things and going out to lunch. It ended up being a really lovely time. I was reminded how much I enjoyed Louisa, how lucky I was to have a mother-in-law who truly cared for me.
As we sat on the couch, taking off tags and organizing clothes into sizes, she spoke up. “Libby?”
“Yeah?”
“You know I don’t expect you to stay single forever, right?”
I blinked at this random pronouncement. “What?”
“I wasn’t mad because you have a man in your life. I was mad because it seemed…like…” She trailed off, obviously uncomfortable.
“Like I’d let some old flame get me pregnant a week after my husband died?” I suggested with a sad half smile.
She let out a sigh. “Yes. And I’m sorry about that.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I know how it looked.” Me, with a rock star, six months pregnant.
“But I don’t expect you to stay alone.” She looked at me hard, making sure I was listening. “If you want a relationship with that singer man—”
“We’re just friends.” It was a knee-jerk response.
She gave me a look of disbelief. “How long has he been here, taking care of you?”
I focused my eyes on the teal-and-purple onesie in my hands. “A couple months.” Closer to three, actually.
“That’s quite a friend.”
I nodded. “He is. We spent a lot of years taking care of each other.”
“All right,” she conceded. “Just—” She reached over and rubbed my arm for a moment. “Remember it’s okay to let someone else in.”
With that, she went back to sorting, leaving me confused.
We spent the afternoon organizing all our purchases into the baby’s room, but she had to leave before dinner in order to catch her flight back.
I was left alone in my house, surrounded by baby things. Things I hadn’t been willing to purchase before now because shopping for our baby without Jonas had been something I’d avoided altogether. Louisa had made it bearable, exciting even.
But now, standing amid all the stuff—just me and my belly and all the things—something cracked inside of me. And in that moment, all my grief rushed back, sharp and raw. Everything that Jonas would miss. Everything I’d never get to share with him. It threatened to overwhelm me, pulling me into the darkness.
I stood there, trying to breathe through it, trying to feel my way through it when my heart just wanted to go numb.
There was a light knock on the back door and Sean let himself in.
“Hey,” he said. “I saw her car leave.” He looked over my face and frowned. “You okay?”
It was too much. All of it was just too much, and I wanted to forget, even for just a few minutes. I wanted to leave behind the dark weight of my loss and feel something else. Something good.
I walked over to Sean and buried my face in his chest, my arms banded around his chest, holding on to his solid warmth. I could feel his heart beating.
He pressed a hand to the back of my head, silently keeping me in place. After several breaths, he spoke up. “Libby? What is it?”
I pulled back so that I could look at him. His eyes were so full of concern and compassion, so ready to do anything for me to try to make it better. I could only think of one way to make it better, one way to chase away the pain. My hands fisted into his shirt at his sides and I pulled, my eyes fixated on his lips.