Chapter 25 - Lucy

When Peter came back, I couldn’t believe it. I was still processing the fact that I’m pregnant when he showed up at my door. After not hearing from him for days, it was worse than shocking.

His efforts in the bakery truly impress me, though, and after a long, hard day, he takes me home. He makes utterly no suggestion of staying with me—just drops me off and goes back to New Hope.

I stand on my front porch, watching him go. I appreciate his gesture of respect, that he doesn’t want to assume anything or crowd me. But at the same time, I’m lonely. I miss our nights together.

As I head inside, I think about how hard he worked in the bakery and the effort he’s put into apologizing to me. Though I am moved, it’s not enough for me to just hand over my heart.

All he’s ever done is let me down, and now it’s not just my heart at stake. It’s my baby, too.

Curling up on the couch with a generous serving of triple chocolate ice cream, I contemplate my options. I know I have to see a doctor soon and tell someone about what’s happening so I can get some help. Not so long ago, I would have been overjoyed to tell Fiona, but that idea is pretty scary.

What if it gets back to Peter?

My guts flip, and suddenly, I can’t eat anymore. I rush to put the ice cream away, fighting the growing panic inside me.

I’m out of options here! If I decide not to tell Peter, then I’ll have to leave Silver Meadows.

Even though the idea sickens me further, when I weigh it up against telling Peter, it doesn’t look so bad.

Anyone can put in an effort for a day or two. How did I know he’s really changed? I can’t live with that bully again, and if he ends up running from me, I’ll be destroyed. I would never recover.

I wrap my arms around myself and curl up again on the couch, still snuggled in Peter’s blankets. I drift off into a fitful sleep, where I toss and turn between vivid dreams of pain and loneliness.

I’m woken by a sharp knock on the door. It takes a moment for my limbs to connect to my brain so I can struggle towards the sound. The sun is up already, and I have no idea what time it is.

Damn, I didn’t even call in sick so the other girls could open the bakery! I have to get my shit together!

When I open the door, I’m surprised to see Peter on the other side of it. Just like yesterday, he’s dressed in clean, smart clothes, and he’s even gotten a haircut that makes him look respectable. Maybe even a bit cultured.

“Lucy, is everything okay?” he asks, eyes narrowing with concern. “I’ve been trying to call.”

“My phone is on silent,” I remember. “I slept through the alarm, I think. Let me get dressed. I’ve got to get to work.”

“Oh, I opened the bakery.”

I stare at him for a few seconds, sure that I didn’t hear him correctly. “You what?”

“Well, I was ready at five am. I swung by, but when you didn’t answer your phone, I figured one of the others would be opening, so I went in. No one came, so I called Fiona, and she gave me the key so I could start.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I still don’t believe my ears.

He grins, and I’ve never seen such a happy look in his bright green eyes. “I got the leftovers stacked away, fresh items out on the shelves, fed the morning crowd, and got Sarah settled in so I could come and check on you.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Are you okay, though, really? Everyone’s pretty worried about you. Fiona says you’ve never missed a day like this, not without telling anyone.”

“I’m fine,” I answer a bit too abruptly. “I’ll get dressed and come in with you. Just give me a minute. You can come in if you want.”

“Okay,” he says. “Thanks.”

I walk down the hall to my room, feeling like I’ve been dropped into the twilight zone. I still don’t believe this change in him can last, but now I have a new fear.

If I tell him about the baby, then he’ll be trapped with me. Just like he was with the spell.

No , I realize with horror. It will be worse, because the spell wasn’t even working most of the time. Finding out he has a kid will bind him to me permanently. He’ll never be able to leave.

I get dressed, miserably considering my options. I desperately want to talk to Fiona, but her potentially telling Rider would worry me too much. Rider would probably immediately tell Peter.

When I get out to the kitchen, Peter has the kettle on and has made a couple of slices of whole-grain toast.

“Peter?”

“Sit down,” he says, smiling. “I just figured if you weren’t well, you’d need something light… and you should eat.”

I take a piece of toast gratefully, watching him clean the kitchen while I eat. For the last few days, I haven’t bothered with my usual routine, and the whole house is a bit of a wreck. Peter does the dishes and wipes down the chairs, remembering exactly how I like things done.

This is fucking bananas.

“Still hungry?” he asks as I finish my toast.

I shake my head. “I’m fine. We should go.”

“The others will have it under control. Maybe you should have a rest day.”

“No, I want to go in,” I say, getting up. “I feel bad enough about totally dozing this morning.”

“It’s okay, Lucy,” he says reassuringly, smiling. “I’ve got you. We’re a team now.”

“Peter,” I say, sighing. “I appreciate everything you’re doing right now. But you can’t just walk back into my life and fix everything with a few nice gestures and gifts.”

“I know,” he says, losing his smile. He steps towards me and gently takes my hand as he looks into my eyes. “My apology comes with no strings attached. No expectations. I want to make this up to you because it’s the right thing to do. If you decide to give me another chance, that would be amazing, but that isn’t why I’m doing this.”

My eyes burn, blurring my vision, and my lip trembles. I bite it hard, blinking as I refuse to let the tears flow.

I’m so fucking emotional right now! I don’t even know what I want.

“Let’s go,” I say, changing the subject. “I want to check out how things are going at the shop.”

Peter doesn’t push it, just agrees to drive me to the bakery. On the way there, he talks about the work he’s doing at New Hope, coaching the kids and joining the community programs. It really sounds like he’s changed for good, but I want to believe it too much.

Which is exactly why I can’t.

When we get to the shop, Peter heads out back while I walk to the counter to help Sarah. She hurries over and hugs me, her eyes full of concern.

“Lucy!” she exclaims. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m okay,” I answer, giving her a quick squeeze. “I just slept in a bit.”

Sarah gives me a critical look. “Are you sure you aren’t coming down with something?”

“Maybe,” I hedge. “I’m not sure.”

“Get in and see a doctor, please. You had everyone pretty worried this morning.”

My rising irritation at the line of questioning flips suddenly into appreciation that my friends care so much about me. My eyes well up with tears again.

Is this what pregnancy is like? It feels like being on a goddamn rollercoaster. How do I survive nine months of this?

“I will,” I say quickly. “I’m sure it’s nothing too serious, though. Did Peter call you to come in?”

“Fiona did, actually, but Peter was setting up when I arrived. He had the shelves stocked and was serving customers like a pro.”

“Really?” I can’t believe it.

“I was amazed,” Sarah says. “Not just at how he was managing by himself, but he was really engaging with people and getting to know them. A couple of the morning regulars even asked him to go out for beers later this week.”

“You mean the tradesmen?” I ask in disbelief. “Those guys barely even grunt when I’m making their bacon and egg muffins.”

“Apparently, Peter knows exactly how to talk to them,” Sarah says, giggling. “Almost like it’s a secret language only used by rough men.”

“Unbelievable,” I mutter. “Anything else to report?”

“Well…”

“Out with it!” I prod, preparing myself for the bomb to drop.

Here it is… the proof that his change isn’t genuine.

“He asked me about what you like,” Sarah answers. “If there was a restaurant you like, how to make your favorite food, that kind of thing.”

I just blink at her. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack. He’s really trying, Lucy.”

My emotions do another flip, and I don’t know if I want to scream or cry.

What do I do now? If I take him back, I have to tell him about the baby, and then I’ll never find out if this change is real.

But how long am I prepared to wait? Months?

A few customers come in, and I’m grateful for the distraction. I know that it doesn’t matter how much thinking I do on the subject; the answer will always come up the same.

I have to trust him. Trust that the change is real, and trust that he wants to stay because of me, because of us. Not because he’s chained to me by responsibility.

A couple of hours later, we close up the shop. Peter is so efficient at it, Sarah and I don’t have to do much at all. Afterwards, he drives me home and walks me to the door.

“I’ll open in the morning,” he offers. “So, get some rest. Just call or text me when you get up and let me know if you want to come in, or if I can bring you anything.”

“Okay,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, Peter. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I’m having trouble believing this change in you is real.”

“Oh?” He looks confused but guarded.

“In the past, I’ve seen you make an effort, only to give up as soon as things get hard. You’ve spent weeks running away from me—or trying to—so I’m having difficulty believing you really want to stay.”

Now that I’ve thrown down this challenge, his reaction will tell me what I need to know more than his words ever could.

“Lucy,” he says, looking into my eyes. “I told you, I’m not doing any of these things to change your mind. I’m doing this because I’m committed to being a new man. I want to be in your life and support you, no matter what.”

Now I can’t hold the tears in. They pour down my cheeks in hot, salty trails, dripping from my chin as I look up at Peter.

He has changed. There is a light in his eyes now… and peace. Like a storm inside him has turned into a still, calm sea.

With a fierce act of will, I keep my hands by my sides so I don’t throw myself at him. “No matter what?” I echo. “Have you really thought about that?”

“Yes,” he says determinedly. “I’m ready for the future, Lucy. I’ll stand with you through any storm, and I’m a damn fool for not saying this sooner.”

The words are on the tip of my tongue. There is an immense pressure inside me to just blurt it out and have the moment over and done with.

Peter, I’m pregnant… with your baby.

As I imagine the statement coming out of my mouth, my mind serves up a whole bunch of possible reactions. I flip through them all in a millisecond—from the very best, where he joyfully agrees to stay with me forever, to the worst, where he turns and runs away, never to return.

I can’t do this to my baby, and I can’t do this to Peter. I trapped him once. How can I do it to him again?

I back away from him, fumbling for the door. “I can’t do this right now,” I stammer, finally finding the knob and shoving the door open. “I just can’t.”

“Get some rest, Lucy,” he says gently. “I’ll be here in the morning, and every day after, no matter what.”

I slam the door on him, my emotions spiraling into a full-on panic. His final words have only given me something else to worry about.

Every day I keep this secret to myself could be seen as a betrayal. No matter what his reaction is to the news, I’m keeping a terrible secret. He might condemn me for that, if nothing else.