The carpet in between my fingers is soft and plush.

Slowly, I brush my palms back and forth against the ivory fibers on the floor.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

The touch and cadence are calming.

Being here, in this room, is calming.

Even though this room is void of a crib and the rest of the necessities we need to buy before this kid comes, it’s still the most calming place in the whole house.

It won’t be calm for long. In the not so distant future, it will be filled with piles of toys and stacks of books and a baby crying to be fed or have its diaper changed.

But right now, it’s strangely hopeful and depressing.

And calming.

I look around the empty nursery, and my heart silently breaks into infinite tiny pieces. This child deserves to come barreling into this world and into a family that has their shit together. A mom and dad with an iron clad bond who can—and will— get through anything life throws at them, because they’re able to tackle it head on together.

I have no idea how long I sit on the floor.

Minutes, maybe? Hours?

When I finally look up to the doorway. Jeff is there, arms folded, leaning casually against the frame. There’s a thin veil of sadness and concern upon his face. He’s trying to mask it with a polite smile that doesn’t suit him. I’m used to Jeff beaming so brightly that he lights up the whole damn universe. Or, at the very least, my universe. As much as I don’t want to believe Tara, I can’t help but wonder if what she said was really true.

But it just doesn’t make any sense.

“What are you doing in here on the floor?” His voice is so soothing it’s almost alarming. I wouldn’t think anything of it had it not been for Tara.

I take a breath and steady myself. “How was work today, Jeff?” I ask, ignoring his initial question.

He swallows hard, and I can see his Adam’s apple hesitate in his throat as shifts his eyes to the window. “Good,” he quips. “Same old, same old.”

I look at him, eyes pleading, for him to say something, anything, to make me believe him. And God, do I want to believe him.

“Marty still being an ass?” He and his boss had always struggled with seeing eye to eye. If anything, the mere mention of Marty is enough to send him off on a twenty-minute tangent.

“You could say that.” Jeff squeezes the back of his neck and enters the room, taking a seat next to me on the floor. “Did you have a good day?” he asks, shifting the attention to me.

“Mmmm,” I hum noncommittally. I know he’s trying to avoid the subject. “I talked with Tara earlier.”

“Oh? How’s she doing?”

I hate how we’re making simple pleasantries. It doesn’t feel right. It feels like we’re strangers. “She’s fine. She, um … She told me something interesting.” I look at him out of the corner of my eye, but I’d rather not watch his reaction.

“Like what? Is he the weight of a Chipotle burrito now?”

I sigh, no sense beating around the bush. “No. She told me that you lost your job a few weeks ago.” I slowly turn to look him in the eye, and he quickly diverts his gaze. “Which I told her was ridiculous because you were still getting up at six thirty every morning and heading to the office by eight. And that you were back home every night by five thirty. And that there was no way you had lost your job.”

Jeff closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose and says nothing. No admittance. No denial.

So I continue.

“But I learned that you unloaded to Cameron about losing your job the same night you came home wasted. You had asked him for the name of the headhunter when he drove your drunk ass home.”

“Fucking Cam,” he mutters under his breath.

When he finally looks back at me, I nail him with a venomous look. I can tolerate many things in my life, but lies are not one of them. “I’ve spent the last few weeks internally playing every worst case scenario in my head. I thought you slept with someone else, Jeff!”

“What? No!” He looks at me with pleading eyes. “I never …” He shakes his head, trying to find the right words to say. The words to make all of this better.

“I know that now,” I whisper. “I don’t care that you lost your job. I mean … I do care, but it’s not the end of the world. I care about the fact you never once even tried to tell me. You lied to me. And that’s not okay. Jobs come and go. And if you’re not careful, my trust will too.”

He closes his eyes and leans his head against the wall.

“Say something …” I whisper, doing everything I can to keep calm and not letting the overreactive pregnant beast come out to play.

“The company was bought out by a medical software group on the west coast. With the merger, they have nearly triple the number of software engineers they need. More than half the department was let go. Just the directors were kept on board along with two or three other engineers.”

I hate the resignation in his voice. It cracks at my already wounded heart. It’s hard not to be angry. I get that things happen, things that are completely out of your control come out of the blue and knock you on your ass. But own up to those things, especially when it directly impacts another person.

“Babe, you should’ve been the one to tell me. Not Tara. We’re going to have a baby together. We’re getting married. We’re family. If you can’t tell me something that big, it scares me that you're not talking to me about the little things that are going on. The healthiest relationships are built on transparency and trust.”

“I know!” he snaps back with a voice that’s unfamiliar. “I just … I couldn’t. Not right now.” He pinches the bridge of his nose tightly before he finally opens his eyes to look at me.

I offer him a small, rueful smile. But I know it does little to console him. “Why?”

“A lot of reasons, I guess. I didn’t want to give you another reason to stress out. I didn’t want to give you or your family a reason to panic. We’re a few short months away from him being born. I mean, what kind of deadbeat dad would I be not having a job to be able to support my new family? I just couldn’t live with you being disappointed in me.”

It’s hard to be angry with him and his honesty. “Sweetie, I could never be disappointed in you. The only thing I’m disappointed in is the fact you didn’t give me more credit. You’ve always stressed that we’re in this together. That we’re a team. Where you walk, I walk, remember?”

His face softens as I repeat his words back to him. “Where you walk, I walk.” He laces his fingers between mine and gives my knuckles a soft kiss. “Just so you know, every day when you thought I was at work, I've been busy meeting with recruiters and networking. Some have even led to interviews.”

I hum softly to myself, finding reassurance in his hustle.

“But I am sorry, Henley. I'm so, so sorry. I absolutely should have told you right when it happened.”

“I know you are. And I understand why you didn't.”

It's true. And I'm not one to harbor anger and allow it to fester under the surface. I couldn’t stay angry with Jeff for very long, even if I tried. Unless, of course, he truly did reach SHITCON level one. Then all bets are off. Sure, I’m annoyed that he withheld this info from me for so long, but if I have to admit, I’m a little relieved that it wasn’t something far worse.

“I promise it won’t happen again.”

We sit hand-in-hand, wordlessly looking at the empty nursery before us.

“So now what?” Jeff asks.

I push myself to my feet and look down at him with a smile. “Well, the way I see it is we have two choices.”

Jeff looks up at me with a curious glint in his eye.

“We can keep on keeping on. I know you're doing everything you can right now to get your feet back on the ground. Me being angry isn't going to rectify the situation any faster.”

“And what's the other option?” he asks.

“We can go buy you some blue, sparkly tassels and get you working the street corner. That one is my personal favorite,” I tease.

He genuinely smiles for what feels like the first time in weeks, and it warms me all over. “Ah! An entrepreneurial approach. I like your spirit.” He stands and walks over to my side, wrapping his arm around my shoulder protectively. “Although I'd much prefer to see you in those tassels.”

“Mm-hmm, I’m sure you would.”

I kiss his cheek and casually let my hand graze across the front of his pants, letting it linger just a beat too long against his dick before I walk out of the room.

“Woman,” he groans.

I stifle a laugh, loving that even in the toughest of times, I can still elicit this kind of reaction out of him.