Surviving Slater
Page 26
Stunned, I stood rooted to the spot as he walked into the bedroom, with me still with the pregnancy test in one hand and the instructions in the other.
"Jordan?" he said softly, looking concerned. He came to a stop in the doorway of the bathroom.
I put my hands behind my back. He frowned as he walked to me.
"You were supposed to be out," I mumbled.
"I canceled. You sounded like something was going on. I was worried."
There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Now I wished I'd stayed at my place tonight.
"What are you hiding?" he asked, and I felt conscious of what I was keeping behind my back.
Feeling trapped with no alternative, I showed him what I was holding.
It only took seconds for him to realize what I was doing. "Why didn't you say something?"
I shrugged. "I was scared."
"Why?" he asked softly.
"I'm too young to be a mom." I was only starting to get my shit together. "And I was worried how you would take it."
He walked to me and lifted a hand to my face. "Like I told you before, I'm not going anywhere."
I looked down at the pregnancy test before my eyes met his again. "Really?"
He nodded. "I love you."
I felt the sting of tears as I swallowed my emotions. He hugged me gently and I let out an emotional breath.
"Take the test," he suggested.
He went to sit down on the bed and I read the instructions again. I did the test and put it down on the bathroom counter. I washed my hands before I walked to sit beside him.
He put an arm around me and kissed me on the forehead. "It will be okay no matter what happens."
I closed my eyes briefly and I leaned my head against his shoulder. I believed him.
"I don't think I've ever held a baby," he said thoughtfully, and I nearly laughed hysterically.
"I don't know how to look after a baby."
"We'll figure it out if we need to. People become parents every day. It's not impossible," he reminded me with a shrug.
I nodded, hanging on to the hope he gave me.
"It should be ready," I said even though I wasn't ready to look.
Together we walked to the counter but I couldn't bring myself to look.
"I'll do it," he said as I closed my eyes. "It's one line. What does that mean?"
Feeling relieved, I opened my eyes and checked the test.
"I'm not pregnant."
I looked up at him and he smiled. "See? There was nothing to worry about."
I was glad we weren't about to become parents, but I had learned something very valuable from it.
For the first time, I truly believed Slater was in it with me no matter what life threw at us. If he was willing to stick it out for an unplanned pregnancy, he was in it for the long haul.
"Maybe one day when we are ready kids might be something we want." Just when I didn't think he could surprise me further, he did.
"Maybe one day," I murmured.
That night I slept beside him, feeling like there was no other place in the world that I belonged.
* * *
It was still dark when I slid from the bed the next morning, making sure not to wake Slater who slept peacefully on his stomach, stretched out across the bed.
For a moment I hesitated and I allowed my eyes to drift over him before I found his discarded shirt on the floor and slipped it on.
I padded down to the kitchen. I felt the bubble of excitement as I got the ingredients I needed out. I had practiced the recipe with Taylor to make sure it didn't result in a disaster and it had gone well enough for me to attempt it on my own.
Over the past few months, I'd started making some small meals to boost my confidence in the kitchen. I smiled to myself at how nervous Slater got when I decided to make supper. He bought a fire extinguisher just in case, like I was going to set the kitchen on fire at any moment.
My smile widened. This was going to show him I was capable.
After months of splitting my time between my apartment and his place, I felt at home when I stayed over.
I mixed the batter and tasted it. Yummy.
While I made the pancakes, I thought back over the past few months. He was finally making some headway with Shannon. It hadn't been easy but perseverance had gained the trust he'd lost with her. It would take time to build their relationship but he was doing everything he could.
I had burned the letter from my uncle. Revealing what he'd done to me would only hurt the ones I loved. I went to the shrink once a week and was still working through my issues. It wasn't something that was easily fixed but I was determined to find a way to deal with it.
The sun started to rise as I flipped the last pancake. I wiped my forehead as I switched off the stove and placed the last pancake on the plate.
I grabbed the whipped cream from the fridge.
"I thought we agreed you don't make anything in the kitchen unless I'm around?"
I gripped the whipped cream as my heart somersaulted in my chest.
"You scared me," I said, turning to face him.
Slater stood in the doorway, watching me with a lazy smile. I felt like a child who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
"I wanted to surprise you," I said, walking to the pancakes I had made him.
His eyes took in my golden brown pancakes.
"You made them?" He walked closer.
I nodded proudly. "Do you want to try them?"
"No one has ever made me pancakes," he said, still staring down at my proudest moment of cooking.
"Don't you like them?" I asked, feeling nervous about his reaction.
He looked up at me. He looked like he was somewhere else, his eyes glassy.
"Slater?"
He blinked and he smiled. "Just when I didn't think things could get any better, they do."
I felt like that all the time with him. The emotion bubbled inside of me, tightening my throat.
"I know that feeling," I said hoarsely.
His hand took mine and I gazed up at him.
"I'm starving," he said, eyeing his breakfast.
"Sit," I instructed.
We sat and ate the pancakes.
"And?" I asked, waiting for his verdict.
"They were great. I could get used to this."
I beamed, feeling so proud of myself. I got up and cleared the dishes.
"I think we could find another use for the whipped cream if you bring it to the bedroom," he said over his shoulder as he gave me a wink and strolled out of the kitchen.
He made me so damn happy.
I followed him with the whipped cream.
We had survived the misunderstandings and fears on the path to get to where we were, but now we weren't just surviving anymore—we were living.
About the Author
Regan is a South African who is married to an IT specialist. She is also mom to a daughter and son. She discovered the joy of writing at the tender age of twelve. Her first two novels were teen fiction romance. She then got sidetracked into the world of computer programming and travelled extensively visiting twenty-seven countries.
A few years ago after her son’s birth she stayed home and took another trip into the world of writing. After writing nine stories on a free writing website, winning an award and becoming a featured writer the next step was to publish her stories.
If she isn’t writing her next novel you will find her reading soppy romance novels, shopping like an adrenaline junkie or watching too much television.
* * *
Connect with Regan Ure
* * *
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
Website