Despite the drama my day ended with last night, I went to sleep and had a peaceful dream. This morning, I woke up feeling fresh and clear-headed, two things I haven’t been in a while.

Best of all, there’s no morning sickness creeping up on me.

I climb out of bed and rub my round belly. “Thank you, Little Bean.”

There’s no response, but Dr. Clara assured me there would be plenty of action in there come the second trimester.

I pour myself a glass of orange juice, take a sip and then pick up my phone. My hand trembles slightly. The moment my thumb brushes the screen, a chorus of ‘pings’ fills the room.

I brace myself as I read Keanu’s messages.

UNKNOWN: Zora, please pick up. I need you. Please talk to me.

UNKNOWN: Let me explain. Just give me thirty minutes. No ten minutes.

UNKNOWN: Zo, don’t be like this.

Most of his other messages are along those lines. I skim through them and then click on Thomas’s text.

THOMAS: Stay away from that guy.

It’s simple. To the point. Totally Thomas.

I chuckle and set the phone down. The only person that hasn’t contacted me all morning is Wilson. Since he lives right across the way, he’s probably planning a visit in person.

As if summoned by my thoughts, there’s a knock on the door and Wilson’s voice rumbles, “Zora? Open up. It’s me.”

I grimace at my outfit. I’m wearing an oversized T-shirt and period-stained shorts. My hair is still wrapped in a bandana and I’m not wearing makeup. I debate whether I should keep him waiting while I change into something more flattering, but eventually decide against it.

The desire to impress Wilson is bad.

Scaring Wilson away with my au natural look is good.

I straighten my shoulders and open the door. Wilson smiles at me. His brown eyes twinkle when he sees my bandana, but he makes no comment about it.

Instead, he lifts a plastic bag in front of me. A sweet fragrance floats from inside. “I bought breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. Can I come in?”

I step back and watch him stride inside. Wilson fills up my kitchen. I’ve noticed that wherever he goes, he’s always the center of attention. It’s more than his looks—which are stunning in their own right. He’s confident, bordering cocky but in a way that makes everyone want to befriend him.

Even in that simple T-shirt and jeans, he looks ready for a fashion spread. I suddenly wish I had slapped on some powder and gloss before I let him in.

“You mentioned you liked fried jack last time so…” He pulls the foil back to reveal the fluffy breakfast pastry. “I hope it tastes okay. Amaya told me where to get it.”

“Thanks.” I sit down.

He falls into the chair beside me. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah.” I squirm, unnerved by his closeness.

“Go ahead.” He waves. “Eat up.”

I tear the fried jack with my fingers and stuff it into my mouth.

“So,” Wilson taps the table, “I was thinking… do you want to marry me?”

I choke on the fried jack.

Wilson springs into action and fills a glass of water in the kitchen. He darts back to me and offers it. “Here, drink this.”

I grab it from him and guzzle it down, finally exploding with relief when the dough is dislodged and I can breathe again. Tears fill my eyes as I gasp. Wilson gently pats my back, waiting for me to calm down.

“You alright?”

“Alright?” I croak. “How could you ask such a ridiculous question while I’m stuffing my face?”

“It’s not like you haven’t heard a proposal before. Thomas was pushing for marriage the moment he found out you were pregnant.”

“Yeah, and I shut him down. For good reason.”

“What reason?”

I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “Is that a joke?”

“No.” Wilson pulls in his bottom lip. “I’ve been thinking—”

“You’re obviously no good at that.”

He smirks. “I want to give this a shot.”

“What are you talking about?”

He dives into my personal space. “Marry me.”

“I…” My throat closes up and, for the second time in the space of a minute, I can’t breathe. Then I find my common sense and push him back. “You’re crazy. Did Thomas put you up to this?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“If this is about Keanu then you don’t have to worry. I won’t do anything to put the baby in danger.”

“This isn’t about your ex. This is about us.”

“There is no us, and I know this is about Keanu because you probably wouldn’t be sitting there proposing marriage if he hadn’t shown up last night.” I glare at him. “What did Thomas tell you?”

“Enough.”

“Great.” I huff.

“You know I have my own baggage. The last thing I’m going to do is sit here and judge you for your past. But I want to have a future, a family, with you. So let’s get married.”

“You’re crazy,” I mumble again. “What about Violet?”

He stiffens. “She’s on her own path.”

“I know you still love her.”

“Can you tell me you don’t still love Keanu?”

I clamp my lips shut. My feelings for Keanu are complicated. Still, marriage is a stupid solution. “We’re both in semi-relationships with other people. That’s even more of a reason not to do anything so permanent.”

“Who’s in a relationship? I’m not.”

“So you’re telling me if Violet waltzes through that door right this minute, you wouldn’t fall down in total awe?”

He tilts his head. “Is that how you see me?”

“You love her.”

“I do. I mean I did. But there’s no future for us.”

“So you’re settling for the next best thing? And I just conveniently have your baby baking in the oven already, huh?”

“Zora, that’s not what I’m saying.”

I storm to my feet. “You know what? Screw you! I don’t need your pity. Whatever favor you think you’re doing by marrying me, it’s unwelcome and insulting.”

“Hey,” he captures my hand and gently tugs me toward him, “I’m not trying to insult you. I’ve made my share of mistakes, but when I make a commitment to a woman I take it seriously. Love can come later, but right now we have everything that matters to make a marriage work.”

“What if love never comes?” I demand. “What then?”

“Then… we cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“You’re crazy.”

“That’s the third time you’ve said that.” He chuckles and releases my hand. “Think about it. When you have your answer you know where to find me.”

Wilson leaves and closes the door gently behind him. I sink into the chair, completely shocked. The last thing I expected him to do was propose.

Is he insane?

I try to hide my feelings when Amaya takes me out to go shopping for maternity clothes. But I fail.

“Zora?” She touches my arm. “You okay?”

She looks so kind and interested and I really need to talk to someone about this.

“Zora?”

“Wilson proposed!” I blurt.

“What?” She drops her shopping basket and grabs my arm to squawk, “What?”

“I know. It’s crazy.”

“Did he get down on one knee? Did he sing a song?”

“No.” My voice falters at the reminder that his proposal was anything but romantic. “He mentioned it. Over breakfast.”

She softens. “Aw, with the ring hidden in the croissant?”

“It was fried jack and no, there was no ring.” Maybe talking to Amaya was a bad idea. She’s not making me feel any better. “He just came out and asked me to marry him while I was eating.”

“Oh.”

“Yup.” I tap my finger against my side.

“What did you say?”

“I turned him down.”

“Why? You like him, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t like—” I choke on the words when Amaya slants me a look. “Okay, I’m fond of him. I’ll admit to that. Not that it matters. Wilson tolerates me, but he’s still in love with Violet and now that Keanu is back—”

“That scumbag? I remember meeting him back when I was dating your brother. He did not leave a good impression. How dare Keanu show his stupid face after all this time?”

I snort. “Now you sound like Thomas.”

Amaya’s brown eyes meet mine and she lowers her voice. “Please tell me you kicked that guy to the curb.”

“I plan to. We haven’t talked. Yet. I’m sure Keanu will show up sooner or later.” I wave my hand. “But this isn’t about him. This is about Wilson’s dumb idea.”

“I don’t think it’s dumb,” Amaya muses.

“You’re kidding.” I chuckle but it falters to a hush when she doesn’t join in. “You’re joking, right? Amaya?”

“What if he likes you too?”

“Well, he didn’t mention that this morning. And even if he did, ‘liking’ someone and ‘loving’ someone are two different things. He loves Violet.”

“Love isn’t just a noun, Zora. It’s a verb. Kent shows me that he loves me everyday by being faithful to and honoring me. You and Wilson obviously have the chemistry part down pat. But loving each other is a choice. One that can be made if you want to.”

“There’s also a difference between ‘love’ the verb and being ‘in love’. Wilson can choose to love me till the cows come home, but what if he’s always in love with someone else? Or what if I fall in love for real and he doesn’t?”

“That’s the risk you take with love. No one can predict the future, but I have a good feeling about you two.”

“Well, I guess that solves it. Your feelings are the concrete evidence I need to prove that Wilson’s not insane.”

Amaya laughs and hooks her arm in mine. “Alright, you made your point. Now let’s keep shopping. I have to head to the Cultural Institute this afternoon.”

We pick out a few things, but I try not to overdo it since Dr. Clara warned that I would pack on a lot more weight in the coming months. It doesn’t make sense to splurge on clothes I’ll outgrow soon.

When we get to the cash register, I pull out my card. Amaya stops me. “I’ve got it.”

I blink in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She smiles at the cashier. “Charge it to this card.”

My chest expands with warmth as I step back and let her pay. To be honest, I’ve never had a friend before. Maybe once. When I was younger. And even then it didn’t last. Letting down my walls and being vulnerable have never been my strengths.

Is this what having a real friend feels like?

Amaya spins and her curls fly behind her. “Ready to go?”

I nod, unable to speak because I’m afraid I’m going to cry.

She drops me home, and I settle in with my new clothes. There are three pairs of pants with stretchy bands around the waist. Lately, it’s been hard to button up my jeans.

I fold them over the armchair when there’s a knock at the door. My chin flies up and I inspect the sound. There’s no way Keanu would be dumb enough to return here. I’m pretty sure Thomas is staking my apartment out.

It could be Wilson, but he promised he’d give me time to think so I doubt he’d show up again in the same day.

Curious, I stride to the door and wield it open. It’s a deliveryman and he’s holding a huge bouquet. The orange and red blooms are striking against green stalks. My breath hitches.

“Are you Zora King?” he rumbles.

I nod.

“Sign here.”

After I scribble my name on his clipboard, he thrusts the flowers at me. I cradle the vase in the crook of my elbow and set it on the coffee table.

There’s a note sticking out of a petal. I clip it between my fingers and bring it close. The scent of Keanu’s cologne is heavy on the paper. I know it’s his because I bought it for him every Christmas.

I lift the flap and recognize his neat scrawl. The note has only one line.

It’s unsigned, but there’s no doubt in my mind that Keanu sent this. My stomach churns.

Is that note a romantic reminder or a threat?