Page 78 of Imperfect Match (Imperfect Match 1)
“I know, but …” I chew on my thumbnail a moment. “I don’t think I can ask him. It will put him in a really weird position.”
“What? Sharing a lifelong bond with you? Shouldn’t he want that anyway if you’re in love?”
“Yes, but … I don’t want to push. I feel like we just got to this really amazing place, and if I ask that of him, he could freak out and run the other direction. The whole reason I didn’t ask him in the first place is because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I was scared he’d feel pressured to say yes, and then it would be all awkward between us.”
“But you’re more than friends now, Willow. Things are different.”
My stomach knots up. “I don’t want things to be different. I thought I did, but now I’m scared.”
“You need to let go of that fear, sister. It’s holding you back.” Aspen stands up and glides over to me, taking me by the shoulders. For once, she doesn’t do anything strange—she just looks me in the eye. “Do you want Reid to be the father of your child?”
The thought of it makes my heart want to burst. “Yes.”
“Then you need to ask him. Maybe that’s what he’s waiting for, Willow. A sign from you that he’s the one.”
For once, my sister might actually be right.
“Okay,” I say, taking a shaky breath. “I’ll ask him tonight.”
Twenty-Two
Reid
The amount of emotions I’m battling is exhausting. I woke up after we spent the night trying to fix what I broke only to find that fucking note. Then, when I grab my phone to call Willow, I have two missed calls and a voicemail from my assistant that I need to come into the office and put out a fire.
Once I get there, the entire fucking world is falling apart because my client is an idiot and wants to change the entire plan we had laid out. Instead of having a big portion of the marketing budget go to social media, like I advised, he now wants print ads.
Then, I couldn’t get a hold of Willow, but in a way I’m glad, because I was in no state to talk to her. Still, I spent most of the time looking at my damn phone, waiting for her to call. I willed it to ring, and then when it actually did, I sent her to voicemail because I didn’t want to hear what happened at her appointment. Hell, I still don’t.
When she says that she’s going to go through with having a baby, it’ll be the end of what we have. We won’t be able to find common ground. It doesn’t matter how much I love her. I won’t be enough. I promised her when we started this that she would never lose me, and I realize now what a fucking asshole I was to say it, because that’s exactly what will happen.
She’s going to go on with her life, raise her baby, and I’m going to be over at my place raising Leo. I’ll have to move because I can’t even stomach the idea of her pregnant by some dickhead. The thought alone makes me sick.
I get through the doors of our apartment building and head to Willow’s. There is a note on the door, telling me to come in.
I open the door. “Wills?”
“In here,” she calls from the kitchen.
The smells assault me—chicken, spices, tomatoes, and cheese. My stomach growls.
When I get in the kitchen, I can’t even believe my eyes. The countertops and tables are filled with rolls, pastries, lasagna, stuffed artichokes, a salad, and she’s frying what smells like chicken. “What’s all this? Are you expecting people?”
“No. Just you.”
Okay, I know I eat a lot but this is insane. “Right, well, you know that I can’t possibly eat all this, right?”
“I know. I stress cooked.”
“Apparently you’re really stressed. I would much prefer another way to work it out, but I guess we all have our things.”
She tries to smile, but then her lip quivers. “Are you not hungry?”
Like that’s ever been in question. “I can always eat, Wills.”
“Good, and then ... after, we can …”
I finish her sentence. “We can talk about today.”
