The Best Laid Plans

by Lauren Gallagher

  Sure. Where?

  I didn’t dare meet her at her place or ask her over to ours. Somewhere out in public, without a bed or a backseat in sight, there’d be no question that we were just talking. So I drove until I found a coffee shop about twenty minutes from her place and texted her the location.

  Then I went inside, got a table and waited.

  * * * * *

  When Kendra walked in, I took one look at her, and I thought the guilt would eat me alive. Especially since it wasn’t guilt fluttering in my chest or sending my pulse skyward.

  Shahid’s right—I really am in love with you, aren’t I?

  “Hey.” She slid into the booth across from me. “How are you doing?”

  Not great.

  “I’m okay,” I said, and I had no doubt she knew I was lying. She didn’t push, though. When a waitress came by, we ordered coffee and didn’t say much until we had a pair of steaming cups in front of us. We added cream and sugar, but neither actually drank anything.

  Without the coffee prep to hold our attention anymore, I asked, “How are you holding up?”

  “Okay, I guess.” She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup and stared into it. “I’ve got a follow-up with Dr. Robbins. To talk about a hysterectomy.”

  “You’re going to do it?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” She sighed. “But I want to talk to her in a bit more detail now that the shock’s worn off.”

  I studied her. “Has it worn off?”

  She chewed her lip. “Ask me again after I talk to her about the surgery.”

  “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

  Kendra’s eyes flicked up and met mine. “Something tells me you asked me to come because you need to talk.”

  “But if—”

  “Gabe.” She sighed, and she sounded as exhausted as I felt. As if she hadn’t slept recently either. “What’s going on?”

  I raked a hand through my hair. “Shahid and I…”

  “Got in a fight?”

  “Yeah.”

  This was the moment when she’d usually ask what we’d fought about, but she didn’t. Probably because she knew.

  Focusing intently on tracing the rim of my coffee cup with my finger, I said, “I think this whole surrogate arrangement is backfiring.”

  “Tell me about it,” she said dryly.

  I flinched. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay.” She released a breath. “I don’t think this is about me, is it?”

  Oh, it is. In more ways than I can explain to you or him.

  “I think it’s about me more than anything.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “Specifically, about me being bisexual.”

  “Which he’s known for a long time, right?”

  I nodded. “Honestly, I thought he’d made peace with it a long time ago. He was a little uncomfortable that first year or so, but after we’d been together for a few years, bought a damned house together and started talking about kids, he seemed to kind of let it go. And now, we’re back to that.”

  She grimaced. “I guess I can kind of see his point.”

  “You can?”

  “Well, yeah. You guys have been monogamous all this time, and then you brought me into the picture. If he has hang-ups about you being bisexual, those are bound to come to the surface when he knows you’re actually, you know, having sex with a woman.”

  I winced. “I know. I do.” Slowly, it dawned on me that while Kendra knew the nuts and bolts of the situation, she didn’t know the crux of it, and I couldn’t explain it.

  How do I tell you I’m afraid to lose him because I love you?

  “I think I need to talk to him some more,” I said. “After we’ve both cooled down a bit.”

  “Cooled—” When I met her gaze, her eyes were huge. “How bad was it?”

  “It was…not great.”

  “Well, was it a screaming match, or what?”

  “No, not like that. But…” My cheeks burned, and I avoided her gaze again. “I left.”

  “So you left, but you’re worried about him leaving?”

  Exhaling, I nodded. “The thing is, sometimes when we fight, one of us will leave. It’s not ideal, but it is what it is.” I cleared my throat before my composure started waning. “But I’ve never been this afraid of him not being there when I come home.”

  “If it was bad enough for you to be afraid he’ll leave,” she said softly, “then I’d bet good money he’s also afraid you aren’t coming back.”

  The thought of Shahid pacing and worrying, wondering if I was gone for good, hit me like a punch to the ribs.

  “Are you going back?” she asked.

  The yes should have been easy and emphatic, but I hesitated. Clinging to my coffee cup for dear life, I said, “I can’t imagine ever splitting up with him. But, God, I don’t know if I can be with someone who doesn’t trust me.”

  “He trusts you, Gabe.” She reached for my hand but hesitated and sat back, folding her hands in her lap. “The last few months have been stressful for everyone.”

  “Yeah, but the fact that you and I slept together even after having a baby was off the table—”

  “Gabe. Honey. Shahid’s not… I mean, I can’t imagine him leaving over that.”

  “No, and he’s not the type to just walk away,” I whispered. “But if he’s got it in his head that I’ll leave, I’m worried he’ll cut to the chase and beat me to it.”

  “Why would he think—” She stopped so abruptly, I lifted my gaze again to meet hers. “Does he think you’d leave him for me?”

  Shame and a queasy scared feeling churned in my gut. “Yeah.”

  She shook her head and stared at me again. “Does he really think that? Like, has he out and said it?”

  “He has. He’s afraid of it, yeah.”

  She chewed her lip. “Look, I know this has been rough on you guys. And after my appointment, we probably shouldn’t have…”

  I winced. So did she.

  After a moment, she went on. “But there’s no reason you guys can’t get through this. I think you both need to cool off and then sit down and talk. Even if it’s hard to discuss some of these things, you can get through it.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. You’re probably right. I guess I needed to get it out and talk with someone else first.”

  “Happy to help.” For the third time, she started to reach for my hand, and this time, she followed through. Squeezing gently, she said, “You guys can get through this. You’ve been through some bad spots before, and you’ll get through this one.”

  “I hope so.” I stared down at our hands and struggled to keep my emotions in check.

  I couldn’t let go of Shahid.

  But I didn’t want to let go of her either.

  * * * * *

  Shahid was already gone when I came home. Intellectually, I understood that he’d simply gone to work and that he would be home when his rotation was over, but his absence was unsettling.

  Like I’d driven earlier, I wandered aimlessly around the house. I was used to this place being empty except for me, and I’d long ago learned to love spending time by myself as much as I loved spending time with him.

  I was restless tonight, though. Of course he was gone because he had to work, but would he come back when his shift was over?

  And could I really blame him if he didn’t? If I couldn’t be with someone who distrusted me, I couldn’t ask him to be with someone he didn’t trust.

  Even if we restored the trust, how the hell did I convince him that I wouldn’t choose an easy road over being with him? Nothing in the world was worth losing Shahid. Nothing. I could deal with my family’s crap until the end of time as long as it meant coming home to him after every teeth-grinding holiday. If we couldn’t have kids, I was happy being with him
and only him until the day we died.

  But my feelings for Kendra were real. And Kendra’s feelings were real too. Her diagnosis had knocked her feet out from under her. She’d been willing to go through pregnancy and childbirth for us, and now she had to get her head around the fact that she wouldn’t ever have biological children for herself or anyone. Though she was being stoic, I could see right through her, right to where the shock was peeling away to reveal the hurt underneath.

  But how did I support her when I was struggling so hard with how I felt about her? How did I balance being faithful to my husband, being there for her and being in love with her? How did I explain to him that my feelings for her didn’t change my feelings for him? If anything, I was even more in love with him for trusting me enough to bring her into our bed, but he’d also trusted me not to feel this way for her.

  What do I do, Shahid? How do I fix this?

  My legs felt like they were encased in concrete, but I shuffled up the stairs. Even if I didn’t expect to sleep tonight, I had to at least try so I could work tomorrow. And so I could talk to Shahid when he came home. And besides, I didn’t know what else to do with the rest of the evening.

  On my way to the bedroom, I halted and turned to the closed door on the right. Every single day, I walked past it a million times and never gave it a second thought, but this time, the sight of it—the plain, wooden door with the brass knob—held my attention. Though I was pretty sure he never actually used the lock, I’d made sure the room had one in case Shahid wanted to keep it good and sealed. Somehow that little keyhole was conspicuous now. A tiny but impassable barrier between us. A small but emphatic symbol of him shutting me out.

  I swallowed, approaching the room slowly. Warily. I never, ever ventured into his salat room. Of course I’d gone in to build it, but once it was finished, it was his sacred space, and I respected that. The door was always closed.

  Tonight was no exception, but I touched my palm and my forehead to the door, and squeezed my eyes shut. Even though he wasn’t really there on the other side, I needed to feel close to him somehow, and, rational or not, this was the only thing I could think of. Except the closed door felt more like a wall this time. Like the room was more than holy ground. It was a place where I was unwelcome. Forbidden.

  “God, Shahid…” I whispered, my throat aching with tears.

  How had this even happened? We’d been desperate for a baby, and this had seemed like a good idea, but it was just sex. Wasn’t it? Sex for its most basic, primal purpose.

  Except it wasn’t. If it was, why was it so hard to let her go? I couldn’t change how I felt about Kendra, but the thought of losing Shahid made me physically ill. I didn’t know how to fix this without hurting either of them. Without losing one or both of them.

  I should have been able to let her go without a second thought. Go back to being friends and colleagues. Move on.

  It shouldn’t have hurt this much to let go of someone who wasn’t Shahid. I should have been able to look my husband in the eye and say that no, I was not in love with her.

  But I couldn’t. Because I was.

  I turned around. Leaning against the door, I sank down until I was crouching and covered my face with my hands.

  Crying seemed like a useless waste of energy, but I didn’t know what else to do. The prospect of having a family was bleaker by the day. My marriage was fucked up. My best friend was hurting. I was hurting for her. So much of this was both my fault and out of my hands.

  I cried. I prayed. To his god, to mine, to anyone who might be listening.

  “I am so sorry, Shahid.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Kendra

  I barely slept that night. Gabe could barely look at me in the morning.

  We both went straight to our respective classrooms, and I avoided the hell out of the teachers’ lounge. All through the day, he didn’t approach me, and even though I hated myself for it, I was glad. I couldn’t face him like this.

  We had to interact at a department meeting that afternoon, but it was terse and forced, with only as much eye contact as we needed to keep our colleagues’ suspicions at bay. They had to have caught on that something was up—I saw the uneasy glances they exchanged when they didn’t think I was looking—but no one said a thing.

  When the meeting was over, we both got the hell out of there without saying good-bye.

  As I drove back, all I could think was that if things were this tense between us, I could only imagine how they were between him and Shahid. I doubted very much that they were good. Things had gone too far. Biology had kicked us all in the metaphorical balls, and Gabe and I had slapped Shahid across the face. Shahid had been upset about it when Gabe had come to me for advice, and I didn’t imagine he was happy about it now. Were they okay? Were they even speaking? Were they angry with me?

  I cringed at the thought of the sex Gabe and I had after my doctor’s appointment. It hadn’t even crossed my mind in the moment that we were crossing a line. I’d been too shocked and upset, and I’d…

  And I wouldn’t have taken any of those as excuses from Tim, so why the hell did I think Shahid would take them now? From me or from Gabe?

  My chest hurt at the thought of the two of them navigating this minefield. Keeping each other at arm’s length until the tension eased. It killed me to know the two of them were that far apart. Even worse, knowing that the rift between them was in any way my fault.

  I set my shoulders back. Well, I’d caused a chunk of this. At least a third of it, if not more. I needed to do my part to fix it.

  Which meant I needed to talk to Shahid.

  * * * * *

  It took three tries before I had my chance. Thank God it was the weekend, so Gabe and I didn’t have to cross paths in the meantime, but I still couldn’t sleep. I doubted I would until I finally settled something face-to-face with one or both of them.

  The first night, the ER was way packed, so I didn’t even ask if Shahid was available. The second, same thing.

  The third night, I once again drove across town to the hospital with my heart in my throat. I parked outside, told myself this was the right thing to do, and walked into the ER. The waiting area was mostly empty, and no one seemed to be rushing around at the moment. That could change in an instant, but maybe it meant I had a little time.

  I walked up to the triage nurse. “Excuse me.”

  “Can I help you?” she asked over thick-rimmed glasses.

  “I don’t need to be seen or anything.” I cleared my throat. “But is Shahid Mirwani-Randall available?”

  “Let me check.” She picked up the phone but paused. “Who should I tell him is asking?”

  “Kendra.”

  Nodding, she pressed a button for an extension, and her eyes lost focus as she waited for an answer. “Hey, is Shahid back there? Sure.” Silence. Then, “Hey, honey. I’ve got a Kendra out here at triage.” Pause. “Yes. She’s asking to see you.” Another pause, longer this time, and my gut clenched as the women nodded slowly. When she lowered the phone and covered it with her hand, she turned to me. “He’s finishing up with a couple of patients, so he might be a few minutes. Do you mind waiting for him?”

  “That’s fine.” I nodded. “Tell him I’ll be in the waiting room.”

  “Will do.” Into the phone, she said, “Honey, she’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

  I took a seat in the deserted waiting room. For a few minutes, I thumbed through the outdated magazines, but they couldn’t hold my attention. I avoided social media like the plague because I didn’t want to know if either of the guys had blocked me. I texted with my sister for a little while and read a few e-mails that I’d reply to once I had a proper keyboard in front of me.

  Every time the doors opened, my heart jumped, and when Shahid didn’t appear, it sank right back into the pit of my stomach.

 
Then they opened, and it was Shahid who stepped out in green scrubs. No expression on his face, no surprise in his eyes when they met mine.

  Heart pounding and stomach getting queasy, I rose and pocketed my phone. I started to fold my arms, but realized that might look defensive, so I hooked my hands in the pockets of my jeans.

  “Hey.” He swallowed. “This is unexpected.” Hopefully I was imagining the…and unwelcome silently tacked on to that comment.

  “I know.” I shifted uncomfortably. “Do you have a few minutes?”

  He glanced around the waiting room. “It’s been up and down all night. I can’t guarantee we won’t get interrupted.”

  “That’s okay. Hopefully this won’t take long.” I gestured at the exit. “Should we step outside?”

  He hesitated but nodded. “Okay.”

  In silence, we stepped outside. It was freezing cold, but the ambulance entrance blocked at least some of the wind, so it was bearable.

  For me, anyway. I was wearing a zipped-up parka.

  I gestured at Shahid’s green scrubs. “Are you warm enough?”

  “It’s always cold in the hospital. I’m used to it.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I blew out a breath, forming a thin cloud in front of me. “So, I think maybe you and I should clear the air.”

  Shahid rolled his tense shoulders. “All right. Maybe you’re right.”

  “Look, I’m sorry.” I inhaled slowly and deeply. “I want you to know neither of us set out to hurt you when we—”

  “It’s not that,” he said flatly. “You know what it’s like to be cheated on, and I don’t distrust Gabe.” He avoided my eyes. “I know you two weren’t out to do anything behind my back. And to be honest, I get why you both hooked up that day. I really do get it.”

  I watched him for a moment. “So how do we fix what’s wrong? Because things haven’t been the same.”

  “I don’t know. None of us thought this far ahead, and now I don’t know where things are supposed to go from here.”

  “Neither do I. Maybe this was a bad idea from the start, and we were stupid to even…” I shook my head. “I don’t know. The point is, though, I don’t want to take Gabe from you. I would never—”