Page 41 of Denim & Diamonds

February

I held my breath as I watched Brock swipe to answer his phone.

“Hello?”

The room was eerily quiet, except for my heartbeat, which I was pretty certain the whole world could hear thumping away.

“This is he.” Brock looked down while he listened, then rattled off his date of birth and what I thought might be the last four digits of his Social Security number. Meanwhile, I still hadn’t taken a breath.

“Okay, yes. I’m ready.” Brock’s eyes rose and locked with mine. I heard the faint sound of a female voice saying a few words, and then all of the color drained from his face. I thought I might throw up. I knew the results without having to be told.

A warm tear trickled down my cheek, and I quickly turned my head and wiped it before Brock could see. A few seconds later, he thanked the person and hung up.

“It’s your baby, isn’t it? ”

He nodded.

I’d heard the word heartbreak countless times, but I’d never thought of it as an actual physical description.

Yet I could’ve sworn that’s what was going on inside my ribcage.

My chest grew tight, and I had to use all of my focus to push air in and out of my lungs.

It was one thing to decide to have a relationship with a man who was your complete opposite—a man who lived a simple life, hours away in rural America.

But this ? How could this ever work? He’d never be able to come visit me like we’d planned.

What would he do, travel with an infant on a plane to New York City?

Brock took a seat on the bed next to me. “What are you thinking right now?”

I shook my head. “I’m too embarrassed to say because it’s all selfish.”

He reached for my hand and laced our fingers together. His voice was hoarse when he spoke again. “I’m sorry, Red. I’m so damn sorry.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. “You’re having a baby in a matter of weeks, and I’m sitting here thinking about how it will affect me and us , rather than considering the well-being of your child and what he’ll have to go through without his mother around.

” I summoned the courage to look over at Brock again.

He looked the way I felt—terrified, dejected, and maybe a little ill. “What are you thinking right now?”

He shook his head. “I’m scared shitless.

I’ve never even changed a diaper, and I live above a bar.

My house is years away from being done at the rate I’m building, and…

where will the kid sleep? In the tub with Oak?

I don’t have a crib or a damn extra bedroom to put it in.

An d how do you pick out formula and decide what to feed it? He . It’s a he , not an it .”

Brock raked a hand through his hair and went quiet for a long time.

“I have a job— two full-time jobs with the bar. I’m usually home to eat and sleep and that’s about it.

I don’t want my kid raised by a nanny. I want him to have the type of life I had, with a full-time mom and a house with a bunch of siblings who are always fighting, yet the place is filled with love. ”

My lip trembled. A full-time mom? I’d never be that, even if we found a way to stay together. And a bunch of siblings? “Brock, I can’t—”

“I didn’t mean…”

I put my finger on his lips, stopping him from continuing.

Whether he’d meant to say it or not, he was being honest, and I had to respect that.

“It’s okay. I get it. I really do. My mom worked full time after my dad left.

She had to support our family alone, and one thing I learned in therapy was that my parents not being around may be the root of some of my issues.

I worry about abandonment and have fears of getting too attached to people.

Your child should have everything he deserves and more.

And he will. One way or another, you’ll make sure he never wants for anything, that he never feels alone or unwanted.

Because that’s the type of man you are, Brock.

You work hard, but you love harder, and your commitment to the people you care about is inspiring.

You make the world a better place. It’s one of the things I admire most about you. ”

“Jesus, February.” Brock pulled me into his arms and clutched me tight. “I just blew all our plans out of the water, and you’re giving me a pep talk. I think you’re the one who makes the world a better place. ”

We held each other for the longest time. Something deep inside me felt scared to let go. Like I might never get to hold him again. Brock didn’t say it, but his tight grip made me think he felt the same way.

Eventually, he stroked my hair from my face. “I know you’ve already extended your stay once, but is there any way I can convince you to stick around one more day? It’s selfish of me to ask, but I’m not ready to let you leave yet. I need you here, February.”

I nodded. “I have to make a few calls to rearrange my schedule, but I can take the early flight tomorrow.”

Brock nodded, visibly relieved. “Thanks, Red.”

We didn’t leave the house for the rest of the day.

Brock called his brothers to cover him at work, and I had Oliver help postpone meetings.

Oddly, after that, we mostly went back to the way things normally were.

Brock cooked us dinner. We snuggled on the couch.

Neither one of us spoke of the baby, or the future, or what would become of us.

Probably we were in denial, but it might’ve been the only way we could make it through the day without breaking down.

At three AM, I slipped from the bed and gathered my things.

Brock had planned to drive me to the airport for my six AM flight, but we’d only fallen asleep at midnight, so I didn’t want to wake him.

Today was going to be stressful enough, and he needed his sleep.

So I gently kissed his forehead and went to the kitchen to write a note before calling an Uber.

When headlights pulled down the block, I took one last look at my sleeping giant. Even after everything that had happened, just looking at him made me smile.

I’d fallen in love with Brock Hawkins—madly, deeply, head-over-heels in love.

I wasn’t sure if this realization would change anything or make things worse, but when I walked out that door, I felt like I was leaving a piece of my heart behind.

The big question was—would I ever come back again to visit it?