“Do you think you’ll fly back in two months when Ava has the baby?”
“Of course I will.”
“Bring Graham this time,” Reid says. “I miss the guy.”
Graham and Reid have always gotten along well. But I can tell by the look Ava gives me that she hasn’t told Reid about Graham’s and my issues. I appreciate that.
I twist my fork in the pasta, reflecting on how lonely I’ve felt since Ava and Reid moved away from Connecticut, but this is the first time I’ve realized how much their move probably affected Graham, too. He lost a friend in Reid with their move. Probably his closest friend since Tanner. But he’s never once talked about it because my sadness fills our house from wall to wall, leaving no room for his sadness.
For the rest of dinner, all I can think about are all the things Graham probably doesn’t tell me because he doesn’t want to put his sadness onto me. When we’re finished eating, I offer to do the dishes. Reid and Ava are sitting at the table, poring over more color options for the nursery when their doorbell rings.
“That’s weird,” Ava says.
“Really weird,” Reid agrees.
“Do you two never have visitors?”
Reid scoots back from the table. “Never. We don’t really know anyone here well enough yet for them to come to our house.” He walks to the door and Ava and I are both watching him when he opens it.
The last person I expect to see standing in that doorway is Graham.
My hands are submersed in suds and I remain frozen as Reid and Graham hug hello. Reid helps him with his suitcase and as soon as he walks through the door, Graham’s eyes go in search of mine.
When he finally sees me, it’s as if his whole body relaxes. Reid is smiling, looking back and forth between us expectantly, waiting on the surprised reunion. But I don’t run to Graham and he doesn’t run to me. We just stare at each other in silence for a beat. The beat is a little too long. Long enough for Reid to sense the tension in this reunion.
He clears his throat and takes Graham’s suitcase. “I’ll um . . . put this in the guest room for you.”
“I’ll help you,” Ava says, quickly standing. When they’ve both disappeared down the hallway, I finally break out of my shocked trance long enough to pull my hands out of the water and dry them on a dish towel. Graham slowly makes his way into the kitchen, eyeing me carefully the whole time.
My heart is pounding at the sight of him. I didn’t realize how much I missed him, but I don’t think that’s why my heart is pounding. My pulse is out of control because his presence means confrontation. And confrontation means a decision. I’m not sure I was ready for that yet. It’s the only reason I’ve still been hiding out at my sister’s house halfway across the world from him.
“Hey,” he says. It’s such a simple word, but it feels more serious than anything he’s ever said to me. I guess that’s what almost three weeks of not speaking to your husband feels like.
“Hi.” My reply comes out cautious. But not as cautious as the hug I eventually give him. It’s quick and meaningless and I want a redo as soon as I pull away from him, but instead I reach toward the sink and remove the drain. “This is a surprise.”
Graham shrugs, leaning against the counter next to me. He gives the kitchen and living room a quick once-over before bringing his eyes back to mine. “How are you feeling?”
I nod. “Good. I’m still a little sore, but I’ve been getting plenty of rest.” Surprisingly, I do feel good. “I thought I might be sadder than I am, but I’ve realized I had already come to terms with the fact that my uterus was useless, so what does it matter that it’s no longer in my body?”
Graham stares at me in silence, not really knowing how to respond to that. I don’t expect him to, but his silence makes me want to scream. I don’t know what he’s doing here. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. I’m angry that he showed up without warning and angry that I’m happy to see him.
I wipe my hand across my forehead and press my back into the counter next to him.
“What are you doing here, Graham?”
He leans in to me, looking at me sincerely. “I can’t take this another day, Quinn.” His voice is low and pleading. “I need you to make a choice. Either leave me for good or come home with me.” He reaches for me, pulling me to his chest. “Come home with me,” he repeats in a whisper.
I close my eyes and inhale the scent of him. I want so bad to tell him I forgive him. That I don’t even blame him for what he did.