Stolen Course by Aly Martinez
“It really was. It was horrible at the time, but that moment was a lot like the wreck except it changed everyone’s life back to moving in a forward direction. Before that night, the whole group was living at a standstill.”
“What did Brett say to her that night? I mean, he had to have said something because she had been struggling with this for years. And no offense, Jesse. Brett loves you unlike anything I’ve ever seen, but he had this misplaced guilt and responsibility to Sarah. How did he finally just walk away?”
“He finally let her go. He told Sarah that, wherever his wife may be in the heavens, he would always love her, but he accepted that it wasn’t her anymore. He recognized that his wife died right alongside Manda.”
“Oh wow,” I gasp.
“It was the worst night of my life, but we are all better for it—that includes Sarah.”
“Yeah, she definitely is. What about Caleb?”
“You want my personal opinion on what changed for him? Because really that is all I have to offer.”
“Yeah. I’m just curious about his actions that night. Knowing him like I do now, I can’t see him being in the same room with Sarah, much less rushing into a traumatic situation to carry her out. He said he did it for Manda, but the very next day, he went right back to hating her.”
“That was Caleb’s first experience with letting love triumph over hate. You should probably remind him of that sometimes.” She gives me a gentle smile, and I have no idea what her last statement means, but before I can overanalyze it, Kara comes back.
“Well as very entertaining as you boring people are, Devon is coming to pick me up,” she announces.
“Wait, what happened to the bartender?”
“No! Don’t get her started on him!” Jesse yells just as Kara sits down to enlighten me.
“Okay, so we were finally getting down to business when, all of the sudden, his mom called. Okay, fine. Whatever. We’ve all got a mom. However, his mom was pissed, all screaming over the phone. Come to find out—”
“He bought her dinner using his mom’s credit card while cruising around town in her Mustang,” Brett finishes, interrupting her.
“Damn it, Hot Ass! You ruined the best part.”
“Sorry, I have a seven-story limit, and that was number eight.”
“Oh whatever. You suck,” she says, heading to the front door. “Okay, ladies and sexy men, my chariot awaits. See you guys later.” She smiles.
“Night, Kara!” we all yell in unison.
I turn to Caleb, who came in with Brett and parked beside me. “I freaking love her.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” He gently kisses me.
“Okay, gorgeous. We need to get going,” Brett announces, pulling Jesse to her feet.
“Why? It’s still early.” I whine.
“We’ll hang out again soon,” Jesse says over her shoulder as Brett pushes her out the door.
“Where’s Eli?” I ask, turning to Caleb.
“He went out the back a while ago,” he says, leaning in for another kiss.
“So what do you want to do tonight?” I move over on the couch and lie down with my head in his lap.
“It depends. How are you feeling?” he asks, sneaking a hand down the top of my shirt. Caleb may not talk about the baby, but he takes full advantage of my overly sensitive nipples and increased sex drive.
“Can we watch a movie or something then talk about that? It’s still early.” I pull his hand out of my shirt.
“Sure. What is the shortest movie ever made? I’ll rent that.”
I laugh, and he smiles down at me, licking his lips.
“I love you,” I say, pulling his hand down to my stomach.
I really don’t think too much about the implications until he snatches his hand away like my stomach burned him. I can’t decide if I want to be pissed, hurt, or some wicked combination of the two. Regardless, I know I need a few minutes alone.
“I’ll be right back.” I try to keep myself from running to the bathroom.
I lean against the sink, hating myself for hiding away instead of asking him about it, but I don’t want to hear his answer. I’m insecure right now, and it’s an overwhelming and new feeling for me.
“Emmy, you okay?” Caleb knocks on the door. “You want some ginger ale or something?”
“Nah, I’m fine.” I try to collect myself but give up and decide to confront him instead. I pull open the door and almost run into his chest.
“Hey, you all right?” He looks concerned.
“Why’d you pull your hand away?”
“What?” he asks, but he gives me a fake laugh that tells me that he knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“Start talking or I’m going to bed.”
“It’s weird,” he says sheepishly.
“What’s weird? My stomach? Because that’s going to get a whole lot more weird over the next few months.”
This time he doesn’t even try to hide it—he openly laughs.
“Laugh it up. I’m going to bed.” I push past him.
“Emmy, wait!” He follows behind me. “I just mean that it’s weird that you’re pregnant.”
“Awesome!” I say sarcastically over my shoulder, but I don’t get two steps before I’m plucked off my feet. He swings me up into his arms. I scream and try to fight his hold, but it’s useless. “Put me down.”
“Nope.” He carries me into the bedroom and less-than-gracefully deposits me on the bed. His body quickly covers mine, and I turn my head, anticipating a kiss that I have plans to avoid. “Maybe I didn’t say this the right way. It’s weird that you’re pregnant because I just got you back, and I’m a selfish prick who doesn’t want to share you with anyone. Not even our baby. It’s stupid and childish, but I worry that when he or she gets here it will change things. So right now, I’m embracing just being us, and I’ll worry about the baby later.”
“You don’t have a whole lot of time before later becomes now.” I give him some bitchy attitude.
“Look at you, all pissed off,” he says, laughing.
“Of course I’m pissed off. I’m terrified, and I feel like I’m in this alone,” I admit not only to Caleb but to myself as well.
“You’re not alone, sweetheart.”
“Well it sure feels like that. You don’t talk about the baby—ever.”
“It’s been a month, Emmy. Give me some time to warm up.”
“Where is my time to warm up? My whole life has already changed and it’s just going to change more. What if you realize you can’t handle this? I’m not sure I can do this on my own.” I begin to work myself up into a frenzy.
“Babe, calm down. I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to love that baby more than any human has ever loved before. It’s just going to take some getting used to the idea. This is why pregnancy is nine months long. Assholes like myself need time to adjust. I promise. It will be all right. I love you. You’re it for me, remember?” He places a gentle kiss to my lips that immediately soothes me.
“This is just really hard. I don’t even feel like myself. For the love of God, I can’t stop crying all the time!” I yell, and I know he wants to laugh. I can see it on his face, but like a good man, he keeps it in.
“So what names do you like?” he asks.
I’m positive he doesn’t want to have this conversation right now, but the fact that he is willing to ask for my sake makes me melt into his side.
“Collin for a boy. Laurel for a girl.”
“Humm... Let’s keep thinking on those.” He smirks, and I pinch his chest.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Of course.” He places a deep kiss to my lips while dropping his hand to rest on my stomach. “It’s me and you forever, Emmy. Anything else is just a bonus at this point. This is it.” He gives a content sigh.
“This is it,” I repeat back to him.
“YOU NERVOUS?” she asks as we drive to the doctor. Immediately I feel like a dirt bag for not a
Emma has a doctor’s appointment today and insisted I come. This whole baby thing is crazy town. I’m thirty-fucking-three years old. I should be able to handle a baby. Hell, I should have a whole house full of kids at this age, but for some reason, this baby scares the shit out of me. I’m not sure why I’m so nervous. I’ve always wanted kids, but I just feel like this is all wrong. Right woman, but the completely wrong time.
Little Collin or Laurel Jones will be entering the world in less than six months. At least those are the names as far as Emma is concerned. I have something a little edgier up my sleeve. Maybe something where my son won’t have to wear a pocket protector, and my daughter…oh fuck that! I don’t even want to think about having a daughter.
“Yeah. What about you?”
“I’m fine,” she answers with a weak smile.
I want to shut down and pretend like none of this is happening, but based on our conversation a few days ago, I need to be there for her.
“Liar.” I look over, flashing her a funny grin. I pray to the Lord it’s not as forced as it feels, but based on her deflated reaction, I know it is. “So tell me what’s going to happen. This is my first ever gynecology appointment, you know.” I chuckle at my own joke, but Emma sits emotionless beside me. “Hey,” I say to catch her attention. “Seriously, are you okay?”
“Sorry. I’m just really anxious and…worried. The nurse said they were going to do an ultrasound today. What if something’s wrong?”
“Emmy, that is our baby you are talking about. It is way too stubborn for anything to be wrong. It’s probably already cussing and telling dirty jokes.”
“No, he isn’t!” she yells.
“He?” I lift a questioning eyebrow.
“It needs to be a boy. You can’t handle a daughter.” She finally gives me a true Emma Jane smile, and just that one flash of her immediately calms my nerves.
“Thank God we agree.” I pull into the parking spot and waste not a single second planting a kiss on her lips. I hold her against my mouth for longer than necessary, but I try to transfer some of my false confidence. I’m nervous as fuck but still manage to say, “Let’s go meet our foul-mouthed son.”
I HAVE a horrible feeling about this. I know it’s just a simple routine checkup, but I feel like I’m going to puke. The butterflies in my stomach are threatening an all-out revolt. It’s making me edgy, and even Caleb’s being at my side isn’t helping calm my nerves.
“Emma Erickson,” the nurse calls, and I spring to my feet as I hear Caleb groan behind me. I can’t even focus on him long enough to question it.
“That’s me.” I stop in front of her.
“Right this way. I’m going to need you to leave a urine sample then have a seat in the back waiting room. I’ll let ultrasound tech know you are here.”
“Okay,” I reply, hoping to God Caleb was listening to what she said because I’m so distracted I barely even registered her words at all.
“Emmy.” He catches my attention. “Go pee in a cup,” he finishes with a laugh.
“Right.” I head into the bathroom.
When I come back out, I find Caleb standing in the hall staring at a huge board covered with pictures of happy, smiling families. I follow his gaze to a picture of a man sitting on the side of his wife’s hospital bed. Their left hands are crossed, showing off their wedding rings as they hold a wrinkly newborn. It’s a nice picture, but I could do better. I do envy them though.
They probably had time together, a life, a plan. I mean, it’s not exactly like we are teens with an unexpected pregnancy, but the timing is all wrong.
Caleb was right the other night. I wish we had more time together, just the two of us. Part of me wonders if we would even be together if it weren’t for the baby right now. Sure, Caleb said that he was trying to get his shit together before the baby bomb was dropped, but how much time would have passed before he just gave up completely? He’s had to make a lot of changes to be with me. How long before he decides it wasn’t worth it? Now, I have to worry that he’s only here because of the baby. I know he loves me, but where were all of his heartfelt speeches before we fell apart?
While I love him for making it easy for us to get back together, I don’t necessary believe his motives. Caleb has sacrificed more than enough in his life. The last thing I want is for him to sacrifice his future just to do what he thinks is right by our baby. I saw his fake smile in the car today and heard his groan when we were called to the back. He can say whatever he wants to me, but I know that he feels obligated. He’s a good guy. I don’t doubt that for a second
“Hey, I think we’re supposed to wait back there,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my head. He leads me back to an empty waiting room, proving that he actually was listening to the nurse earlier.
No sooner than we sit down, a different nurse peeks her head around the corner.
“Ms. Erickson?” I immediately stand, but she continues to talk. “We are running a little bit behind this morning. It’s going to be a few minutes, okay?” She kindly smiles, and I give her a quick nod before she’s gone again.
I settle back down into my seat as Caleb picks up a parenting magazine and absently flips through it.
“We need to get married already,” he says randomly with some emotion I can’t pinpoint. Annoyance? Anger? Frustration? Whatever it is, it all leads to the exact same answer.
“Um, no we don’t,” I answer, quickly looking away.
“Excuse me?” he says entirely too loud.
“I said we don’t need to get married. That is the very last thing we need right now.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t want to get married?”
“Wow, was that a proposal?” I ask sarcastically. We are in the middle of a doctor’s office waiting room. This is definitely not the place to be having this conversation.
“Maybe,” he responds with a blank stare aimed over my shoulder.
“You are such a romantic, Caleb Jones. Who knows? Maybe in few years, you can try that again.” I’ve once again resorted to being a smartass.
“A few years?” He jumps to his feet and pushes a hand through his hair. “So let me get this straight. You don’t want to get married?”
“No, not right now. Can you please calm the hell down?”
“What was all the ‘you’re it for me’ bullshit then?
“You are it for me. What the hell is going on?”
“So let me get this straight. You love me, and I’m it for you, but you don’t want to get married?” The anger—and if I’m not mistaken, fear—paints his face. “For Christ’s sake, we’re having a baby, Emma.” The lack of my nickname suddenly makes me realize that this is really fucking serious, but he also just hit the nail on the head. We’re having a baby.
“And?”
“Ms. Erickson, we’re ready for you,” the nurse calls from behind Caleb.
“Can we please talk about this later?” I whisper-yell, standing to head for the nurse.
“I’ve got to get out of here.” He begins to walk away, but I grab his arm, stopping him.
“What is wrong with you? You can’t just leave me here.”
“I just got a really fucking bad case of déjà vu.” He pulls his arm away and walks past the nurse and out of the room.
Stunned, I look around the room, trying to figure out what just happened. Did he really just walk out and leave me here alone? Yep. Completely alone.
“Ms. Erickson?” the nurse repeats, but I’m rooted to the ground.
I can’t go in there alone. I needed Caleb to lean on, but he just walked out the door with no explanation. It was a fight. Not the end of the world. Yet here I stand, abandoned because Caleb needed to pout like a child. I don’t think I have ever been so hurt in my life.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” I walk forward to meet her. I’m so angry at him I can’t even bring myself to
NO. NO fucking way am I doing this again. I will not, under any circumstances, beg another woman to marry me. Not even Emma, no matter if she is carrying my child. I will not be sucked into that black hole of heartache again. Once was way more than enough.
How is it even remotely possible for two people to talk as much as Emma and I do yet still be completely confused about where we are in our relationship? I may not have given her a proper proposal, but I sure as shit expected an overwhelming yes. I didn’t really mean to propose at all, but if I have to listen to them call her Ms. Erickson one more time, I am going to lose my ever-loving mind. I told her a month ago that she was it for me, and I meant it. However, Emma obviously meant something completely different. I know we haven’t been together long, but I know without a doubt, I want Emma to be my forever—just not enough to beg for it. I’ve been there and done that, and I’ll never fucking go back.
Forty-five minutes later, Emma finally walks out of the doctor’s office. The anger on her face matches my own.
“Take me to Sarah’s,” she says, climbing into the truck.
I try to respond calmly, but my voice is still raw from her rejection. “No. We are going home. We need—”
“I want you to listen to me very carefully, Caleb,” she interrupts me while staring out the front window—not even bothering to look at me. “I will not argue with you. I will not debate this. I will not even pretend to entertain a conversation, explanation, or apology from you. I just experienced the scariest moment of my life alone because you ‘needed to get out of there.’ Did it ever occur to you to think about what I might need? Because newsflash—I just needed you. You know what? Fuck it. Go home. I’ll call a cab.” She snatches open the door, and just as quickly as she got in, Emma gets out.
I don’t have it in me to chase her anymore. For once in my fucking life, I don’t want to have to fight for a future. Life’s a struggle—I get that—but finding, loving, and marrying a woman should not be this damn difficult.