Unwrap My Heart

by Heather Dowell

  With Zain, sex wasn’t like he needed me for pleasure, though we both had plenty. It was like every movement was showing me how much he cared about me. How beautiful he thought I was. He cherished every inch of me, and I’ll never forget how safe I felt in his arms. It’s like the whole world could have crumbled around us, and I wouldn’t have noticed because all I could think about was him. And I didn’t feel like my body was dirty anymore because he didn’t.

  The cheering leads to one guy tossing his nachos. They land on a woman two rows below with a baby in her arms. The cheese is all over her shoulder. She turns with a wailing baby to Bailey in the row below us.

  The Goodwins sat by us yesterday, too, but I told the Abners not to mention my pregnancy. I wanted to observe them without them putting on a show.

  Bailey takes the stranger’s baby so the woman has free arms to clean her top off with wipes.

  Bailey bounces the baby in her arms, and it stops crying.

  It only takes the mom a few seconds to clean herself and take the baby back, but it’s long enough for Bailey to whisper in her husband’s ear and leave the stands.

  I have the distinct urge to follow, but there are only two minutes left on the clock, and I want to be here when the Knights win.

  She gets to the top of the stands, and the urge to follow is so strong it’s like an audible voice saying Go.

  Maybe I’m going crazy or it’s the pregnancy hormones, but it feels like God is speaking to me.

  After having premarital sex last night, I don’t think He’d honor me with His presence, but I get up and follow the call.

  Bailey is leaned over the sink drying her tears.

  “Are you okay?”

  She looks at me, nodding, but I can tell she’s not. “You’ll miss the game,” she says. “It’s only allergies.”

  In winter? “I thought you might have been sad handing over the baby.”

  The tears start again. “We’ve been trying for so long,” she says. “We even found a baby to adopt, but the mother held the baby and couldn’t go through with the adoption. I don’t think it’s going to happen for us.”

  I hug her.

  “God has a plan,” she says, regaining her composure and nodding her head. “I just need to have faith.”

  My heart pounds so hard, and my mouth moves but the words won’t come out. Then a loud rumble comes from the stands, and I know we’ve won.

  “Bless you for checking on me,” she says. “We should head back now.”

  I take her hand. “I saw your note on the prayer tree.”

  She looks confused then smiles. “Yes, I remember that.”

  “I saw it because I was nosy and read them all before hanging them. I didn’t believe in God. I thought prayers were silly. I wouldn’t have even been there if I wasn’t homeless.”

  She looks concerned. “Do you need a home. We have room.”

  I smile. “The Abners are helping me and my siblings figure it out, but there is someone you could take home.”

  She looks confused again.

  “I want a closed adoption. My circumstances are not the norm, but I feel like that wouldn’t keep you from loving my child.”

  She swallows. “All children are blessings. But I’m so sorry.”

  “You don’t want—”

  I lower my head. I really thought God was doing something here. Every time I start to have faith in someone, they let me down.

  She places her hand on my shoulder. “Oh, no. I’m sorry about what happened. As far as the child—” Bailey starts sobbing but with a smile. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve thought through all the options, and this is the only one that seems right for me and my baby. Your baby. I can’t raise the kid. I don’t think I could love him or her the way you and your husband could. The conception was forced, and I’d keep remembering, well—I just couldn’t.”

  She hugs me. “Yes. Yes, a million times.”

  There’s movement in my stomach. I can’t believe I just passed gas while hugging this woman. “I’m so sorry.”

  I pull back and feel it again. I put my hand on my stomach, thinking I ate too many nachos.

  Her mouth is wide open, shocked. “Did your baby kick? I thought I felt a kick.”

  “I’m only twelve to fourteen weeks. I doubt it.”

  She reaches out. “May I?”

  I nod, though the thought of someone touching my stomach is weird.

  She places her fingertips against my stomach, and I feel it again, just a little tickle. I guide her hand. “I think it’s just trapped gas.”

  “Hey, little buddy,” she says.

  “Whoa!” Lots of flutters.

  She looks at me. “Those are kicks. Please, come stay with us. Do you need anything? Medical visits? Anything, really.”

  “I don’t want to leave my brother, and I think things will work themselves out. Are you sure you want my baby? I mean, you’ve only seen me a few times?”

  “I could ask you about making us the baby’s parents. You don’t have any doubts?”

  “No.”

  I don’t. I have so much clarity right now. I can’t explain it. And the kicks for her make me excited. It’s like this isn’t my baby. I’m just doing this awesome thing for her, like a surrogate. Even though the baby has my DNA, that’s the truth, so that’s what I’ll tell people.

  “Then neither do I.” She takes my hand. “Can we tell my husband?”

  “Yeah.”

  People are leaving the stands, and we’re pushing through. We find Ethan, and she tells him the plan. She doesn’t mention how the baby came to be, and it doesn’t seem to bother her. I guess that makes sense. My mother was a monster, but I’m not. Kids aren’t responsible for what their parents do. Maybe that’s why I’m able to carry this baby without harming myself. Part of it is me. And why wouldn’t I fight for myself?

  Ethan is speechless. All he can do is hug Bailey and me.

  Then Zain is hugging me without knowing what’s going on but probably guessing, and Coach is yelling at him to get his butt in the locker room.

  He breaks away before he can get into too much trouble, and the Goodwin’s give me their phone number saying how much they want to be there for my next ultrasound.

  We part ways, and I feel like everything is coming together. All I have to do is call Beth and see how things are going on her end.

  Then again, there’s one last piece to the puzzle that doesn’t fit. Why would Zain want to deal with this? I can’t truly believe he’s going to be here for me throughout this process. How can I be so selfish and expect to keep him? Yes, I want him. Yes, I need him. But having a girlfriend who’s pregnant with another person’s child is not something an average guy would want.

  Chapter 45

  I feel it already. I feel Bray pulling away. I could see the relief in her eyes immediately after the game. But a new sense of dread filled them. I have a sick feeling that she’s talking herself into putting an end to us before we even get going.

  Her hugging the Goodwin’s makes me think she talked to them. All the signs from God have pointed to them, whether she believes it or not. I can tell she’s made her decision.

  But she’s scared. I don’t know what else to do to make her believe I’m here for her.

  Maybe she regrets what happened last night. I don’t regret it. How could I? I’ve never experienced anything like that in my life—the way the love flowed between the two of us as we fully came together as one. The way, with every movement, I told her she was worthy of being loved. That this is what love is. I may have not said it aloud, but I didn’t feel like I had to.

  I felt her love.

  Did she not feel mine?

  “Abner, someone would like to talk to you,” Coach says. “Come to the office when you’re done.”

&nbs
p; I grab my bag and head out of the locker room into the small adjoining office, where a man in a Central Valley University hat is chatting with Coach Woods.

  The coach places his clipboard face down on the desk and stands, extending his hand. “Zain, I’m Coach Palmer from CVU.”

  I shake his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

  “I knew I liked you for some reason. You’re one of those well-mannered kids.”

  A laugh escapes. “Thanks, do you mind telling my father that?”

  He laughs. “I’ve been watching you this year, and I’m really impressed with your play. Just over the past month, you’ve really matured. We could use a player like you over the next four years. I’d love to have you come visit CVU and check out the facilities.”

  “Yeah, that would be great.”

  “I’ll send information to Coach Woods for you and your parents so you can schedule a trip. Now, go celebrate your win!” He pats me on the back as I turn to leave.

  The feeling of pride swells in my gut. I’ve played great the past two games. Best ever. It’s all been for Bray. That’s what she does for me: she makes me feel worthy and hopeful. She lifts me up, a lot like my mom does.

  I love my dad and all, but he’s good at making me feel worthless. But now I understand a bit more about him, thanks to knowing more about what he and my mom went through in high school. Maybe he’s pushed me so hard because he doesn’t want me to make the same mistakes he made.

  When I exit the office, everyone is waiting on me—my family, including the Goodwins. Everyone except Bray.

  “Great game, son.” Dad hugs me.

  My mom’s next. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Where’s Bray?”

  “She’s in the van. She’s not feeling well.”

  When we make it to the van, Bray’s sleeping in the third row with her head against the window. I climb into the back and guide her down so she can rest her head on my lap. She doesn’t wake, or maybe she pretends not to wake. Mom said she’s only been out here for five minutes.

  I know her mind is going ninety miles an hour. She’s talking herself into believing she’s not worthy of being with me.

  But I’m not going to let her push me away. I’ll spend years, if I have to, letting her know how worthy she is.

  About ten minutes after we left the gym, her body relaxed and her mouth opened. Her breath tickled my hand resting underneath her cheek. It went numb on the ride home, but I didn’t dare disturb her.

  “Bray.” I gently shake her when my dad pulls into the driveway. “We’re home.”

  She sits up and rubs her eyes. I get out and offer my hand to assist her, but she ignores it and walks into the house.

  Before heading upstairs, I tell my parents about meeting the coach from CVU.

  Bray’s already in her pajamas covered up on the couch, talking to Izzy. She doesn’t even look my way when I open my door and drop my bag.

  “Bray?” I say.

  She glances at me.

  “Do you mind coming in here for a minute?”

  “I’m really tired, Zain. I just want to go to sleep.”

  “Just for a minute. I want you to sleep in my bed tonight. I’ll go downstairs and sleep in the family room. You need a bed.”

  “Hey, what about me?” Izzy says.

  I leer at her.

  “Okay, okay,” Izzy says, waving her hand.

  Bray walks over and slips by without making contact, even though I’m blocking most of the door.

  I take a deep breath and close the door. She’s about to break up with me, even if we haven’t said we’re officially a thing.

  She sits on my desk chair. I sit on the edge of the bed and take her stiff hands in mine.

  “Bray, you’re worthy.”

  Her silence shoves the knife in my heart a little deeper.

  “Look at me.” Her ice-blue eyes rest on mine. “You are worthy.”

  She glances away as tears roll down her face.

  “Talk to me, please.”

  “I can’t do this. I thought this is what I wanted, that this is what I needed, but it’s not. There’s just too much going on in my life. I can’t give you what you need.”

  “I just need you.”

  “I can’t give you that.”

  “Do you regret last night?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

  “Because I don’t. Last night was the best night of my life. I know you felt it, too. I’m here for you, Ace. I have been since the day I met you. I will be until the day I die. You. You are the person who brings my life full circle. And I’ll wait for you. When you’re ready, let me know. Now get in bed, and let me tuck you in.”

  She complies. I pull the covers over her, giving her my pillow to hug. “This guy has been my favorite pillow since I was five. His name is Baller. He’s your heater for tonight, although he won’t do as good of a job as I do.”

  That gets a smile out of her. I kiss her forehead and squeeze her hand.

  “Zain?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can we just not complicate it right now? Can we just be friends?” There goes the knife twisting into my heart.

  “Like I said, Ace, I’m here for whatever you need. If it’s just a friend, then I’m your friend.”

  She passes out before I shut the door.

  I grab a pillow and blanket from the hall closet and head downstairs where my dad is having a nightcap.

  “Sleeping down here?” Dad asks.

  “Yeah, Bray needed a bed.”

  “The past week, you’ve made me realize something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That you’re nothing like me and everything like your mother.”

  “I take that as a compliment. Is that how you meant it?”

  “It’s exactly how I meant it.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “I’m really proud of you, son. Proud of everything, even the times you’ve caused more gray hair. Because those times are meant as learning tools to become a better person. And you’ve come out of those times way ahead of me when I was your age.”

  “Let’s just hope the learning experience I’m going through right now will make me a better person. Because it’s a tough one.”

  “It’s obvious you love her. She’ll figure that out; I bet sooner than later. It took me too many years with your mother to make me realize it, and I regret those years. Bray’s a lot smarter than I ever was. I give her a day.”

  “I can’t call it that soon, but I have faith in her.”

  “She’s got a lot going on. She’s lucky to have you.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Chapter 46

  After our let’s be friends conversation, Zain still points at me in the stands when he scores, but his smile isn’t as bright and his shoulders sag when he goes to the locker room.

  “He looks like a deflated balloon,” Izzy says. “Did y’all breakup or something?”

  “We were never together.”

  Together. Ugh, I can’t get us together out of my head. That night, how well we fit. How much I love him. I love him. I love Zain Abner.

  “What have I done?”

  “That’s what I’m asking,” Izzy says.

  I run down the bleachers. No one is allowed on the court, but it’s halftime, and I don’t care about the cheerleaders’ dance routine.

  I squeeze through the railing and jump two feet to the floor. I plant my body against a padded wall leading to the locker room and already regret it.

  First thing this morning, I pulled Zain aside to voice my concerns. He might get attached to the baby and be mad when I give it up. There are going to be rumors and pointing. My jeans and bras are already tight. It won’t be long before I gain too much weight to hide.


  Then there’s his future. I don’t know what my plan is anymore. Am I going to work and try to adopt Milo, or will I have my baby then go to college? Zain has offers to play college ball. I’m not worth the sacrifice if he chooses to stay with me. I’m scared he will, and I’ll ruin his life.

  If Zain’s sudden depression and lack of enthusiasm toward the game, even with scouts watching and college on the line, are an indication of him feeling the same, he won’t care what people think when I start to show. He won’t care what college he attends, so I have to care for him.

  I told him I just wanted to be friends so he’d have an easier time focusing on scouts and his future and not about his pregnant best friend.

  But he’s putting up a front even Izzy can see through, and my effort to protect him has done the exact opposite.

  Either I break both our hearts now or risk him resenting me forever. I need to leave. I look around for a staircase to the second level as people exit the locker room.

  Hands grab my shoulders. I turn around. Zain.

  We lock eyes, and I’m already crying. “Stupid hormones.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Something stupid.”

  “I’m thinking of a thousand things I want to do right now,” he says, “and none of them are stupid.”

  He said those words once before, and all my memories since then come flooding back. Less than a month, and he’s made me fall in love with him.

  His lips are on mine before I can protest, and all the feelings are still there. The baby makes fluttering kicks like he or she did for their future parents.

  I laugh and touch my stomach. “The baby’s name should be magic eight ball.”

  Zain squints. “What?”

  “The baby kicks when he or she gets excited. First with the parents I chose, and now with you.”

  “What are you saying? You’re choosing me?”

  “He or she made that choice, but I don’t want to fail you.”