The Best Laid Plans

by Lauren Gallagher

  “I know you didn’t. And I do understand that she’s feeling raw right now. So are we.” I shook my head. “But the sex… It wasn’t…”

  Gabe’s eyes widened a little.

  “I get it. I get why you did it.” I wrung my hands to stop myself from folding my arms. “But really, there’s no reason for either of us to be physically involved with her now.”

  “You mean there’s no reason for me to be,” he said flatly.

  I pursed my lips. “Is that a problem?”

  “It’s—” He stopped and sighed. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it. Honestly, I guess being physical with her has become… I don’t want to say it was routine, but it kind of normal?”

  “This is kind of what I was afraid of, you know,” he said. “That you’d get used to the idea of sleeping with a woman, and—”

  “This isn’t about me needing or wanting to be with a woman,” he snapped. “This is about Kendra, and only Kendra. And if you don’t want me involved with her, then I won’t be. End of story.”

  We locked eyes.

  Gabe exhaled sharply. “Please tell me we’re not going down that road again.”

  “You don’t think it’s even a little bit justified for me to—”

  “No!” He groaned and made a frustrated gesture. “Look, I shouldn’t have slept with her after we found out she can’t get pregnant. I realize that, and I’m sorry. So it’s going to stop. But you’ve known me for way too long now to be afraid I’m going to start straying just because I had sex with her. The only reason I ever laid a hand on Kendra was because of—”

  “That’s how it started, yes,” I said. “But I don’t think I’m asking too much when I say I want it to stop.”

  “You’re not! It won’t happen again. I promise.” His expression softened a little, and so did his voice. “But you’ve also got to trust me that when I say it’s stopped, it’s stopped. I have no interest in cheating on you.”

  “I know. I know.” I rolled some of the tension out of my shoulders. “I think maybe we didn’t make the boundaries clear on this one.”

  “No, I guess we didn’t.” He swallowed. “But we’re clear now, right?”

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  Gabe nodded. “All right. I’ll talk to Kendra tomorrow. Let her know.”

  I chewed my lip.

  He shifted his weight.

  The silence gnawed at me, and I couldn’t begin to think of a way to fill it.

  Finally, he cleared his throat. “I should get something going for dinner. Or do you just want to order out?”

  “Ordering out’s fine. Whatever sounds good. I’ll, um…” I gestured at the stairs. “Do my prayers for the night, and then we can eat.”

  “Okay. I’ll have something on its way by the time you’re done.”

  “Okay.” I gave him a soft kiss, telling myself it wasn’t as halfhearted as it felt, and then headed upstairs.

  Outside my salat room, I paused with my hand on the doorknob and glanced back the way I’d come. My heart sank deeper and deeper in my chest.

  I loved Gabe. I trusted him.

  But deep down, I had a feeling this wasn’t over.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Gabe

  After some Thai food I didn’t really taste and an old movie I didn’t really pay attention to, we called it a night and headed up to bed.

  It wasn’t unusual for us to go through our nightly routines without talking, but the silence was weird tonight. Ever since he’d called me out for sleeping with Kendra today, I’d been twitchy. Uneasy. Certain at any moment he was going to tear into me, even though that was totally not Shahid’s way.

  Replaying this afternoon, I itched with shame. What was I thinking? I knew my sexuality didn’t always sit well with Shahid, and that today’s news would upend everything in our world, and how could I have thought for a second that jumping into bed with Kendra would help matters? That it wouldn’t be a whole goddamned can of gas on the fire?

  And yet at the same time, the thought of keeping Kendra at arm’s length physically hurt.

  There was no way to explain that to Shahid. Not without inflaming that monstrous jealous bone he’d had during our early years.

  We got into bed, and Shahid kissed me lightly. “Love you.”

  “Love you too.” I winced but tried not to let it show. We both sounded so half-assed, I would’ve felt better if we’d just not said it tonight.

  He settled on his side and I settled on mine, and though we rarely slept curled up together—it was usually too damned hot—the space between us was conspicuous tonight.

  He was a million miles away. So was I. As much as I wanted to reach across the void, I didn’t. Which was weird. I never, ever hesitated to initiate something with Shahid, and he rarely said no if I did—neither of us said no very often unless we were really, really tired.

  And though I was exhausted, I wanted to do everything right then. I wanted to suck him off. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted to fuck him. In every way, I wanted—needed—to be as close to him as I could physically get, because then maybe I could convince myself that this emotional chasm wasn’t really there.

  But I didn’t push us beyond this. At every turn, I was afraid walls would come up. That he might lay down a boundary that hadn’t been there before.

  Things have changed, I expected from a tensed muscle or a deflected touch.

  Not tonight, I expected from his kiss. Maybe not for a while. Or ever.

  Before long, though, he was out cold. That wasn’t a surprise. Even if this thing was stressing him out, Shahid’s job had forced him to learn to sleep anytime he had the chance. He could be sweating bullets over something and still go to sleep in minutes.

  And I strongly suspected he was sweating bullets over something. As I lay beside him, I was sure the guilt was going to eat me alive.

  I felt guilty for being with Kendra this afternoon. Even guiltier for not wanting to have sex with Shahid. And guiltier still for being glad he didn’t try to initiate anything.

  My mind drifted to Kendra—not that it had to drift far. She’d texted me to let me know she’d made it home all right, and that was the last I’d heard from her. Which, for the sake of Shahid’s sanity, was probably a good thing. For the sake of mine? I had no idea.

  Was she okay tonight?

  Was he okay tonight?

  I searched for his profile in the darkness. Were we okay tonight?

  And though I’d never go behind Shahid’s back, why was it so hard to let go of Kendra?

  Everything about this arrangement should have been simple. Once we’d conceived—or as the case may be, realized conception was off the table—there’d be no reason to continue having sex. Maybe I’d be a little disappointed to see it end, and maybe I’d secretly hoped she wouldn’t get pregnant immediately, but I hadn’t bargained for this.

  I wanted to believe the only reason I struggled to stop the physical intimacy with Kendra was that it meant admitting defeat. Accepting that our last option had failed, and that a family wasn’t meant to be.

  And those were factors, but they weren’t the primary reason. I hadn’t expected the intimacy that had developed between Kendra and me. It was supposed to be sex. Fun, of course, but also sex we were having for its most basic biological purpose.

  This kind of connection had no business here.

  And I had no idea how to end it.

  * * * * *

  I barely slept. At least Shahid did. Lives depended on him being awake and alert. If I was dead on my feet, I could always show a film or something. Even high school kids didn’t object to Bill Nye the Science Guy if it meant they didn’t have to listen to me droning on about the periodic table.

  When I arrived at school, my stomach was queasy, and it wasn’t because I’d alre
ady downed three cups of coffee in rapid succession. One glance at Kendra’s car in the parking lot, and I had the distinctly sick-nervous feeling that came with arriving for an exam that I wasn’t at all prepared for. Except there was more on the line than a bad grade this time.

  Part of me wanted to wait until the end of the day, when neither of us had to concentrate on our lectures or face each other in the halls, but part of me wanted to get it over with. The sooner the better.

  On the way to my classroom, I paused outside hers. She was at the front of the room, organizing some materials on the table by the whiteboard as her students slowly trickled in and took their seats.

  She looked numb. It was the only way I could describe it. Her gaze was distant, her expression flat. From clear across the room, the circles under her eyes were visible. I had no doubt mine were too, and decided she didn’t need to see that right now, so I continued toward my own classroom. Good enough excuse as any to walk away and quit killing myself by staring at her.

  The reprieve was temporary, though. Sooner or later, we were going to cross paths. And sooner or later, we had to talk. I’d promised Shahid I’d put this thing to rest, and I wasn’t pushing his good will any further than I already had.

  Second period was the science department’s planning period, so none of us had classes. Might as well take advantage of that time, or else I’d be stuck waiting until lunch.

  From the back room, I glanced into Jim’s and Felicia’s classrooms. They’d been in the teachers’ lounge last I’d seen them, and when I was sure they hadn’t sneaked back in without me hearing them, I forced back the nausea and leaned into Kendra’s room. She was at her desk, hunched over a lesson plan, forehead resting in her hand.

  “Hey,” I said.

  She jumped and turned toward me. “Hey.”

  “Can we, um, talk for a minute?”

  “Yeah, sure.” She paused, glancing at the rows of empty desks in front of her. “Maybe not in here. In case kids start…”

  “Right. Yeah.” I stepped back, and my heart thudded while she joined me in the back room.

  “So.” She squared her shoulders and set her jaw. “What’s up?”

  “Well.” I ran a hand through my hair and turned to pace nervously. “Look, um…” I cleared my throat. “So our arrangement. Now that having a baby is off the table, we should—”

  “Quit sleeping together?”

  My cheeks burned—embarrassment? Shame? I wasn’t even sure anymore—and I nodded. “Yeah.”

  Kendra avoided my eyes, but she nodded too. “It’s probably a good idea. And I’m sure Shahid…”

  I winced. “He’d prefer it this way. I’m sorry, I—”

  “Don’t.” She stepped closer and hugged me. “It’s okay. Really.”

  I closed my eyes, sighing into her hair. “I’m sorry we put you through all this.”

  “Put me through it?” Drawing back, she met my gaze. “Look, I was going to find out sooner or later that my system’s fucked up. And it’s probably just as well I found out now rather than five or ten years from now.”

  “Maybe, but… I mean…” I shook my head. “I don’t even know. But I feel like you’re going through the wringer because of us.”

  “It isn’t your fault.” She lifted her shoulder in a shrug that seemed to take way too much work. “I volunteered for it. I knew going into it that things could happen. Complications were always possible.”

  I didn’t know if she meant pregnancy-related complications or complications between the three of us, but I supposed she was right. We’d known, even if none of us had acknowledged it.

  “This doesn’t have to change anything,” I said. “We’re still incredibly grateful that you made the offer, and we’re absolutely here if you need us.”

  “Thank you.”

  We stood in uneasy silence for a moment.

  Kendra adjusted the file folder under her arm. “I need to go run off some copies of next period’s exam. I’ll…” She lowered her gaze, fidgeting as if she didn’t know how to end her sentence and make her escape.

  “Yeah, I need to set up a lab. I’ll see you around?”

  See you around? Really, Gabe? Just because we’re in a high school doesn’t mean we have to sound like awkward fucking teenagers.

  But Kendra nodded, and a smile sort of materialized on her lips. “Right. See you around.”

  And with that, she turned to go.

  Okay, awkward and stupid or not, at least we’d managed to end the conversation, and now I could release my breath. In theory, anyway.

  It was done. We were going back to the way things were before. She was still my best friend. The only difference was, now I knew what she was like in bed. That didn’t have to change anything.

  So why was it so hard to watch her walk away?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Kendra

  I did my best to keep a stoic face until I left campus for the evening. Gabe didn’t need to see me cracking, and I didn’t want to alarm my students or any other faculty member. No one in the building needed to know how much this was killing me.

  After school, I deliberately took one of the back roads out of the school parking lot and gripped the wheel for dear life as I drove past house after house.

  Just hold it together a little longer. Just a little—

  Fuck it. Who am I kidding?

  I made it as far as a cluster of trees between some pastures and a neighborhood that was under construction and pulled over. I didn’t even get the car into Park before the tears started. And dear God, did the tears come.

  I could deal with the news from my doctor.

  I could deal with disappointing Gabe and Shahid.

  I could deal with them deciding this was the end of our physical involvement.

  But not all at once. Not in the space of twenty-four hours.

  Gripping the wheel with one hand, covering my face with the other, I let go and sobbed.

  I was in way over my head. We’d all known what this was from the beginning. The fact that I enjoyed sex with them more than I’d ever enjoyed it with any other man was just a bonus. It wasn’t supposed to make me feel closer to them. It wasn’t supposed to make me feel like it really wasn’t too much to expect for a man to give a shit about how I felt, what I enjoyed, what I wanted.

  I’d had casual sex before. Hell, my college roommate and I had fooled around whenever we were bored and never thought twice about actually dating. When he’d started seeing his girlfriend-now-wife, we’d stopped, and that was the end of it. So I knew for a fact I could separate sex and emotions.

  Why couldn’t I do that with them?

  Oh. Right. Because they weren’t just casual friends anymore. They’d seen me through my divorce, and they were sweet and caring and there when I needed them, and sex did nothing more than fool me into believing they wanted more than friends with benefits. Or friends with baby-benefits, as it were.

  I’d volunteered to carry their baby, and now that I couldn’t, they had every reason to need some time and maybe even some distance to regroup, gather their thoughts, and figure out their next move.

  But what about me?

  I knew damn well it was selfish, and that I had no right to even think about it, but I needed them. Under any other circumstances, I’d have called Gabe after my doctor’s appointment. We’d leaned on each other millions of times, and that wouldn’t have been any different.

  Instead, we’d leaned on each other harder than we had any right to, and now Shahid understandably wanted to put a stop to that.

  Except it wasn’t the sex I needed. It was them. The pair of sweet, compassionate guys who’d always been there, from letting me snark about the ex-husband they want to strangle, to picking me up after some dumbass had rear-ended me during a snowstorm. Gabe had even driven me to the ER just to be su
re I was all right, and stayed with me the whole time despite the place being packed, and Shahid had come in every chance he’d had to personally make sure I was being cared for.

  Tonight, I needed the guys who’d held my hand in the past. The guys who’d never thought less of me when that time of the month rolled around—something that had amused an ex-boyfriend and annoyed my ex-husband. The guys who’d managed to make me feel like a welcome addition to their bed. More than a sex toy or an easy slut—or even just a surrogate—but an actual person whose wants and needs and pleasure were important.

  But now…

  Maybe what I needed was some time and space away from both of them. I could only avoid Gabe so much, but as long as I didn’t go out of my way to see him during school hours, I’d be okay. Cross-country was over. I was coaching basketball. Come spring, he’d be coaching baseball. Aside from faculty meetings and touching base about the biology curriculum, there was no need to for us to cross paths very often.

  Well, one thing was for certain, crying on the side of the road wasn’t going to fix a damned thing. I wiped my eyes and took a few deep breaths to collect myself. When I got home, I’d kill a bottle of wine and take a long hot bath, and I’d cry until I was drunk, and then drink until I cried some more. If I was going to lose it tonight, I was going to do it in style.

  But first, I had to get myself home in one piece.

  A few more slow, calming breaths, and then I pulled out onto the road. I wasn’t far from home now, but it seemed like miles and miles before I finally parked in my own driveway. Inside, I ran the hottest bath I could stand, poured myself a glass of wine, and left the bottle on the floor beside the tub where I could reach it.

  Then I stripped out of my clothes and sank into the water.

  I hadn’t touched a drop in so long, my tolerance was way down. A glass and a half, and I was already lightheaded. Still sober enough to think, not nearly drunk enough to forget, but I didn’t dare go overboard or I’d be extra miserable.

  And wasn’t this déjà vu? Bathtub, wine, a heavy heart? Yeah, I’d been here before. This was where I’d spent that first evening after I’d found out about Tim’s affair—lying back with my hair over the tub’s edge while I stared up at the ceiling with just enough presence of mind to keep my wineglass out of the water. That had been a two-bottle night. I’d drunk myself utterly senseless, and it hadn’t done a damned bit of good. Instead of feeling hurt, betrayed and murderously angry, I’d felt queasy, hurt, betrayed and murderously angry. Slurring and snarling on the phone with Gabe, I’d gestured so much with my glass that I still had a few red wine stains in the grout between the tiles. After he and I had hung up, I’d swallowed the last of the wine, and then lay here, just like I did now, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what happened next.