On Broken Wings

by Chanel Cleeton

  “Did you miss me?”

  He asked the question casually, his voice teasing, even, but I heard the ache between those words—Easy’s in love with you—and while I didn’t want to lead him on, I didn’t have it in me to be glib.

  “Yes.”

  The word escaped in a whisper, the weight of it rocking me a bit. I’d missed the friendship we’d developed, but if I were really, really honest with myself, I’d admit I missed the rest of it, too. I’d had a taste of something so good it had shaken my foundation, and even though it had terrified me, a piece of me—a big piece—wanted to come back for seconds.

  “I missed you, too.”

  My heart thudded as he spoke, as I read between the lines, recognizing the thread that ran through everything he’d ever said to me, all the love that had always been there pushing to get out.

  He shifted, and I turned my attention away from the road in time to see him place his hand on my arm, moving lower—

  I swallowed, forcing the words out. “We need to talk.”

  He froze, his fingers on my elbow. Slowly, one by one, he peeled them from my skin, erasing his touch.

  “You regret what happened between us.”

  He delivered the words in a flat, unemotional tone, like a shield he’d thrown up to push me away.

  “I—” I tried to come up with the right words, had spent the months apart searching for an answer to whatever questions he would throw my way and coming up short every time. I didn’t regret it—not with the baby on the way, at least. And if there hadn’t been a baby, if it was merely the two of us and one amazing night between us—well, I wasn’t sure what my answer would be then, either. Maybe if he didn’t love me we could have continued on. If it really had only been sex, things would be different. But it wasn’t just sex, and it wasn’t just my own fear that I would hurt him.

  I wanted no part of his love, had no desire to be entangled in another situation where I could get hurt. He was a fighter pilot first. There would be deployments and nights spent alone. Birthdays, holidays missed. And always, there would be that lump of fear in my throat, that knot in my stomach, the one that had been on a constant low level with Michael and now had reached a paralyzing degree. I’d been through enough loss to last a lifetime, and I had no desire to add to my tally.

  “It’s complicated,” I finally answered. It was a cop-out, but I had little else to give. “I want to talk about things, about what happened. We need to talk about it.”

  “So talk.” His tone gentled, somewhere between the old Easy who’d always treated me with kid gloves, and this new Easy I couldn’t quite get a handle on. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  I’d always been able to talk to him about anything; the core of our friendship had revolved around a level of trust I didn’t have with many people. He’d always been there for me, and it was unfair of me to think he’d bolt now. I owed him the truth, despite how nervous it made me.

  I turned into a strip-mall parking lot, my heart pounding. Of all the ways I’d imagined telling Easy I was pregnant, it hadn’t been this. I pulled into an empty spot, putting the car in park and turning the key in the ignition until the engine died. I took a deep breath, and then I shifted in my seat so we faced each other.

  I reached out, my fingers grasping the metal frames of his aviators and sliding them off his face, my knuckles brushing against his cheekbones. He sat there like a statue, the only shift in his appearance a slight widening of his eyes. I needed the barrier between us down, needed to see his reaction, to gauge how he really felt when I told him about the baby.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  Worry flickered in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, took a deep breath, and let it all out.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  EASY

  Pregnant?

  For a moment I wondered if I was having an out-of-body experience, if this was a dream I would wake from. I could have sworn she said she was pregnant, but the word eluded me, even as I reached out and tried to hold on to it.

  “Pregnant?”

  She bit down on her lip and nodded again. “Yeah.”

  I couldn’t—

  Pregnant?

  “It’s yours,” she added, a thread of—fear, worry, emotion, regret?—my stomach clenched—entering her voice.

  Pregnant?

  I tried to formulate a response, my brain a series of short-circuiting emotions. That night—the sex between us—it had been so unexpected, so far out of the realm of anything I’d ever imagined, that stupidly, irresponsibly, I hadn’t even considered protection. That was a one-off for me, but I hadn’t had sex after my last regular clean exam and in the moment, Dani getting pregnant had been the furthest thing from my mind. After, I had thought about it, but I hadn’t wanted to pick at what was obviously a sensitive subject for Dani; I’d figured with how hard it had been for her to get pregnant with Joker—

  Oh fuck. Joker.

  I didn’t know how to describe feeling like the worst person on earth at the exact moment you got one of the greatest gifts you’d ever received. Actually, I did.

  I was a thief. A thief who’d stolen his best friend’s dream.

  “I—” I ran a hand through my hair, realizing I was shaking. I tried again to find the right words, to say something, but each time I thought I had what I wanted to say the words simply came up short, everything inside me inadequate in the face of the child we’d made.

  We were going to have a baby. Dani was going to have a baby.

  Our baby.

  The memory of holding her in the hospital while she cried after the doctors told her she’d miscarried hit me and I felt a pang of fear unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. Was this pregnancy safe? Was she at a higher risk of miscarrying?

  “Do you feel okay?” I blurted out.

  She blinked. “Umm, yeah. Tired, but that’s supposed to be normal.”

  “Okay. Good. And you’re healthy? Have you been to a doctor? Is the baby okay?”

  She reached out and squeezed my hand. “I have. I’m doing well and the baby’s great.”

  I racked my brain for anything I could think of that was pregnancy-related, only to discover unsurprisingly, my knowledge was sparse. What did Noah tell me about Jordan?

  “Have you, uh, been getting sick?”

  “Like morning sickness?”

  I nodded.

  Her eyes widened. “You want to talk about morning sickness?”

  I released her, running my hands through my hair.

  No, I didn’t want to talk about morning sickness, but right now morning sickness seemed to be the safest topic of all the ones we could choose.

  I closed my eyes, my head in my hands, trying to get my bearings. Did this mean she wanted to try having a relationship? Did she want me to be involved in the baby’s life? I couldn’t imagine not being there, didn’t want to miss out on the moments little and big—our child’s first steps, watching cartoons on the couch together on Saturday mornings, teaching the kid how to throw a football, lifting them up into the seat of the jet—

  We were having a baby.

  I looked at Dani, really looked at her, imagining her body changing, seeing her swell with my child. The image changed and I saw our baby on her lap . . .

  I’d thought I loved her before, hadn’t been able to imagine loving her more than I already did, but that love paled in comparison to how I felt about her now, to how I felt about our child—

  She took another deep breath. “Look, you probably never saw yourself here, and if you don’t want to do this, if you don’t want to have kids, I’m fine with doing it on my own. I want this baby. So much. I can be a single parent, and still give our child an amazing life. I don’t want you to feel pressured or resent me—”

  Wait. She thought I wasn’
t happy?

  I was shocked, but I was definitely happy.

  “I do. Want to have kids. Always have.”

  Especially with you. I want to have a baby with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.

  “I’m sorry.” I took a deep breath. “I just— I’m just trying to catch up. But yes, I want to be involved in the baby’s life. Absolutely. Of course.”

  Did she really think I was an asshole who would abandon his child? Abandon her?

  “You don’t have to say that,” she mumbled, twisting the diamonds around her finger, refusing to meet my gaze.

  My heart clenched at the sight of Joker’s rings on her finger.

  “I want to be there for you and the baby. I can’t promise I’ll get everything right at first—I’m a little out of my depth here—but I’ll get it. What do you need? What can I do to help?” My voice cracked. “How are we going to do this?”

  The fingers on her ring stilled. “We’re going to have to figure it out as we go along.”

  She was right, but for the first time in my life I didn’t want to take things as they came, had no idea how to even do that. I knew nothing about kids, had no clue how to be a father or a husband or any of that shit. Hell, I’d barely been a boyfriend. Did she want that? Did she want us to be a family? I couldn’t get a read on her, and if anything, the rings on her finger seemed to answer the question for me.

  “What do you want?”

  I struggled to push the words out, to pretend I merely wanted her answer when really what I wanted more than anything was to hear our night together had meant something to her, that this baby meant something to her because it was ours, that I meant something to her, that we had a future together.

  She hesitated for a beat. “I want to do the best thing for this baby.”

  “Me, too.”

  I also wanted to do the best thing for her, wanted to make sure she was happy, that she had nothing to worry about. I wanted to take her into my arms and make love to her, wanted to place my palm against her stomach over the baby we’d made, wanted to fall asleep with my arm around her, her body tucked into the curve of mine. I wanted a lifetime of things I worried would never come to be.

  “The best thing right now is for us to figure out how we’re going to co-parent, how were going to raise this baby.” Dani’s cheeks turned pink. “What happened between us . . .” She trailed off. “I think we should just be friends for now.”

  Friends.

  How would we raise a baby as just friends? Would she meet some guy one day and would he end up being involved in my child’s life? What if he was an asshole? Dani wasn’t likely to pick a jerk, but still.

  I nodded as though I agreed with her, like her words didn’t cause an ache inside me, as if I hadn’t spent the last three months imagining the feel of her beneath me, wishing there could be more with her, that I would come home to an announcement that she’d changed her mind and we had a chance together.

  My throat was drier than the fucking Sahara as I forced myself to answer. “Okay.”

  The look of relief that flashed in her eyes was another punch to the gut.

  “I have a doctor’s appointment coming up. It’s a big one—we can find out the sex of the baby. Do you want to be there?”

  The dryness was immediately replaced by the boulder that rolled in, and suddenly I worried I was going to lose my shit. In the span of ten minutes I’d gone from a single guy to a guy with a baby on the way, and now this baby was going to become a boy or a girl, shift from abstract concept to flesh-and-blood child, and fuck, there were still so many questions swirling around in my head, so many unknowns.

  “Yeah. I want to be there.”

  Dani nodded, and I didn’t miss the relief in her voice. “I’ll text you the appointment details.”

  “Thanks.”

  I wanted to be at all her appointments, didn’t want to miss a moment in this child’s life, especially in the wake of all the moments I’d already missed in her pregnancy.

  She looked down at the floor and I racked my brain to come up with something to say, a million questions running through my mind. I needed to get one of those books on having kids. Maybe Noah had one—hell, I probably needed to talk to him and ask him all the things I had no clue about. I wanted to be there for Dani and the baby, wanted her to know I was someone she could count on, but she couldn’t lean on me when I had no clue what I was doing.

  She hesitated again. “We’re going to be okay, right? As parents?”

  “Of course,” I answered with way more confidence than I actually possessed.

  Dani I wasn’t worried about. My own skills were the ones I questioned—not my resolve, but random things like whether or not I’d know how to hold the kid the right way, and whether I’d be able to change a diaper, and what I was supposed to feed it. Weren’t they supposed to eat liquids first or something?

  “Do you promise that whatever happens, we’ll always be a team?” Dani asked, tearing me away from my trip down the rabbit hole. She bit her lip. “Like, we won’t end up in family court arguing about custody or something?”

  Surprise filled me. “Is that something you’re worried about?”

  That had never even entered my mind. Should I get an attorney? Did she have one?

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” The strain in her voice tugged at my heart. “It’s so complicated. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier; I didn’t want to stress you out when you were deployed.”

  I nodded. “I’m not angry with you. And if it’s okay with you, we can sort this stuff out on our own. I trust you.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes. “I trust you, too.”

  “Then we have nothing to worry about.”

  “Are you scared?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I think that’s natural, too.”

  She sighed. “Me, too.”

  I reached between us, taking her hand, linking our fingers together, bringing them to my mouth, my lips brushing over her knuckles.

  “I promise you, no matter what, we’ll give this baby a good life. You’re going to be an amazing mom, and I have a lot to learn, but I’m going to spend every day of my life working on being a great dad.

  “Things are complicated; this isn’t the way you envisioned yourself having a baby. But I promise you—we’ll make this work. I don’t want you to worry about anything other than staying healthy and taking care of our kid.”

  “Thank you,” Dani whispered, tears sliding down her cheeks.

  “Hey.” I released her hand, swiping the tears away with my thumbs. “No more crying. We got this, okay?”

  She nodded, her voice shaky. “Okay.”

  “Are you getting tired? Do you want to take me home and get some rest?”

  It was almost eight now, and I didn’t want her driving at night if she was tired. If I could have kept her and the baby in a protective bubble, I would have.

  My stomach clenched as I remembered that day in the hospital—

  I couldn’t bear losing this baby, too.

  “Yeah, if you don’t mind, I might go home and go to bed. It’s been a long day.” She offered me a weak smile. “Do you want to come over soon? Tomorrow, maybe? I’ll totally understand if you’d rather take a few days to get acclimated to being back.”

  “Tomorrow sounds perfect.”

  * * *

  Dani dropped me off at my house and I paused to set my bags down in the living room before jumping into my car and heading over to Noah’s. Dani had mentioned Jordan knew about the baby, so the cat was out of the bag, so to speak. Besides, he was my oldest and closest friend, and considering he’d just been through a pregnancy with Jordan, he’d understand these feelings inside me better than anyone. I sent him a quick text before I left the house to let him know I was coming over, and then I was on my way, my con
versation with Dani playing on a loop the whole drive.

  Noah met me at the front door with a beer, and we both headed to his back deck.

  “So how does it feel to be back?”

  There was no time to beat around the bush; I’d already lost three months.

  “Dani’s pregnant.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He gawked at me, speechless.

  “She’s pregnant,” I repeated, taking a long pull of the beer.

  Noah’s face was ashen. “Fuck, man. I’m sorry. I had no idea. Who’s the father?”

  I swallowed, choking on the beer, my body shaking as I coughed.

  Shit.

  I’d definitely violated some unwritten bro code here, and if anyone was going to call me on it, it would be Noah.

  I wiped at my mouth, my heart pounding as I gave him the rest of it.

  “The baby’s mine.”

  I still couldn’t quite get used to saying it, thinking it, even as a rush of pride hit me every single time I savored those words—pride and shame vying for the lead until pride simply took over and smoked the regret by a mile.

  Noah jerked back, shock in his gaze. “What? When? How?”

  “Seriously?”

  “You know what I mean,” he sputtered.

  I did, and as much as I wanted to talk about the baby, I didn’t want to talk about me and Dani. Not that there even really was a “me and Dani.” In the past we’d shared about women, but this was different.

  “Let’s say it happened, and leave it at that.”

  He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “You’ve been in love with her for years, and you drop this bomb, and I’m supposed to act like it’s no big deal?”

  “No, I’m not saying it isn’t a big deal; I just don’t want to talk about it. It’s complicated. Really fucking complicated. We aren’t in a relationship, and she doesn’t know how I feel about her, and I don’t want her to know.”