Page 137 of Good For Me

“Me? This relationship?”

A single nod.

No.No. This cannot be happening.

I can barely force out the next words. “The baby?”

The pause is much longer this time. “I would have been so much better off if my mother hadn’t tried to raise me herself,” she whispers. “If she would have given me to Grandpa in the first place, or put me up for adoption.”

“Stop it,” I say, hardly recognizing my own voice it’s so ragged. “This isn’t the same.You’renot the same.”

She closes her eyes. “I’m so scared, River.”

“Then let me help you,” I yell, so loudly she jumps. “Let me fuckingin, Jas. Talk to me about shit. Let me take some of the burden.” I step closer, feeling like my heart is about to explode. “But don’t ever, ever say our baby would be better off without us. Because that’s bullshit, and you know it.”

She covers her face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

I feel a stirring of hope. I can understand her freaking out about her mom. She keeps so much in, it’s only natural that at some point it was going to all come spilling out. Feelings are messy and complicated and I’m not going to run away because she lost it for a few minutes. Just so long as she gets that’s all this was—a temporary freak-out.

But when she moves her hands, that hope dies.

“I think I need some space.”

“What?”

She gestures at me. “This is too much. It’s too intense and—”

“It’s life, Jas.” I grab her shoulders. “Life is intense sometimes. We get through it.” My hands tighten. “We get through it together.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” she whispers, and my heart breaks right down the middle. “I’m not good attogether, River. I’m good at getting through shit on my own.”

“But it doesn’t have to be like that anymore! You don’t have to do it alone. You have me.”

I know before she opens her mouth. I know she’s going to fucking destroy me. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t have anyone.”

I try to speak but words don’t come. I have no idea what to say to get through to her. I don’t know how to make her fuckingseeit.

“Jesus,” I mutter, and her eyes come up to my face. For the first time since she came upstairs, I feel like she’s really aware of my presence, not just lost in the maelstrom of her own mind. She winces when she takes in the emotion in my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want…”

“Space,” I finish for her, releasing her shoulders. “You just want space.”

“Is that so bad?” she shoots back. “Wouldn’t it be better to think things through now than wait until after the baby is born to figure out that we made a mistake?”

“The only mistake would be walking away from each other right now.”

“Just a little time, River. I’m not saying I don’t want you or…” she rubs a hand over her face. “God, I don’t even know. I just need to think for a minute. I need to breathe.”

Which, apparently, she can’t do with me. I want to rip the room apart.

I take a step back. “Fine. You need to breathe? Fine. Go for it. I’ll get out of your way.”

Her eyes widen, panic flashing in them, and I think she might just take it all back. But then her expression shifts, those walls coming back up. “I’ll go,” she says. “You don’t have to leave your own house.”

“You think there’s anything I want in this house without you?” I bark, shaking my head. “Jesus, Jas. You’re standing here telling me you don’t know if you want me. That you don’t know if you want our baby.”

She winces, her hand going to her stomach. “I didn’t say that.”