Michelle was actually pregnant.
There was a big possibility I was actually going to be a father.
Despite all of the things that had happened between the two of us, seeing that small little bean bouncing around in her body set something off for me. It sent my mind into a cascade of thoughts that tumbled one right after another. I couldn’t keep holding back my feelings for Michelle. Even if she ended up leaving me at the end of this pregnancy with a fat check in her hand, she belonged to me for the next few months. And for those precious few months, I could pretend we were a happy couple. I could pretend Michelle was mine. The woman of my dreams I didn’t dare think about, lest I plunge myself into a depression I could never pull out of.
I could pretend we were building a life together and were on the track towards a future the two of us could be proud of. And maybe if I tried hard enough—maybe if I worked at it long enough—I could convince Michelle to believe it, too.
Maybe I could convince her to stay after the baby was born.
Looks like operation ‘Fake It ‘Til We Make It’ was officially in order. I pulled us up to the house and watched her walk in, a bag in hand and still silent. I escorted her to her room where she walked in without a second thought, closing the door behind her and leaving me standing there. I thought about turning and walking away, giving her space to digest all that had happened at the appointment. But before I could catch myself, my fist rose to her bedroom door and I knocked.
She opened the door and furrowed her brow, almost as if she was confused as to why I was still there.
“Yes?” she asked.
“I’m getting a bit restless,” I said.
“Because—?”
“Wouldn’t it be nice to get out for the evening? You know, go explore Napa for a little bit? Maybe get some dinner out?”
Her brow furrowed deeper with confusion as I clasped my hands behind my back.
“You want to go into town,” Michelle said.
“I do. I coop myself up here sometimes when I get all caught up in work. I think an evening out might be nice. Do you want to come?” I asked.
Her confusion turned to suspicion and I thought she was going to reject my offer. Until finally her face settled and a sigh fell from her lips.
“Yeah, sure,” she said. “What time do you
want to head out?”
“I’ll come knock on your door around five. Does that sound okay?” I asked.
“Sure, I’ll be ready.”
I took her into town, to a place called Celadon. It was one of my favorite places whenever I was caught in town on business. The eclectic cuisine was always cooked to perfection and the quiet atmosphere lent itself to a private comfort not usually found in cities in the Napa Valley. I escorted her in on my arm and watched her eyes dance around the room, taking in all the wonders around her as her lips parted in shock.
My every intention was to treat her like the princess I wanted her to be.
I pulled out her chair and she eyed me carefully. I pushed her into the table before sitting down in front of her, then took the liberty of ordering for us. A cheese plate for us to split, the Moroccan-braised lamb shank for myself, the morel mushroom risotto with a helping of their infamous salmon on top, then two vanilla bean crème brulees with caramelized bananas to finish off our meal. I ordered us two non-alcoholic cocktails to enjoy alongside our fruit-infused waters, and I grinned at her as she stared with a dumbfounded expression on her face.
“What are you doing?” Michelle asked.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Why are you doing all this?”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Pulling out my chair. Ordering delicious food for us. Giving me space. It isn’t like you.”
“Then it sounds like I haven’t been doing a very good job of keeping my promise to your family,” I said.
“Why did you really bring me here tonight?”
“So we could enjoy some time out of the house.”