Every time the bus stops, my anxiety climbs. When I called Colt and told him I needed to see him, he offered to pick me up and take me to dinner, but I turned him down on both counts.

I knew I’d blurt everything out the second I sat in his car with him. If I did somehow make it all the way to the restaurant first, the last thing I want is to discuss such a serious issue while waiters interrupt us with water refills and spouting off dinner specials. No. The best plan is to tell him in the privacy of his place. That way, if I do need to leave, it can be done with my head held high. Not after waiting through awkward silence for a check to arrive.

Stop expecting the worst. Colt Grant isn’t like Joseph White in any way. For one, Joe was only seventeen when I broke the news to him. Obviously, Colt is more mature, not to mention sweet, generous, and loving. Yet, we’ve only known each other for a month and a half. I knew Joseph for two years, and that history didn’t mean anything as he ran out the door without looking back. Even though that was another man, and I use that term loosely, I still can’t shake my doubts that this time will be much better.

As the bus pulls up to my stop, I briefly consider staying in my seat and just riding to the end of the route. The thought is powerful but fleeting. I push my shoulders back and hold my chin high as I walk off the bus toward my fate.

* * *

“Come in! Let me get your jacket.” Colt holds out his hands, ready to hang up my coat.

“Um, no. I have a bit of a chill. I’ll just keep it on for now. Thanks,” I lie, following him into his apartment. I want to wait and see how this is going to go before I start getting too comfortable.

“Uh, sure. No problem.” He frowns at the floor. “Can I get you a drink? A glass of wine?”

“No!” I don’t mean to be so emphatic, I’m just nervous. Isabella, calm down. “A water would be great, though.”

Colt motions to take a seat in his living room. “You’re right, it’s too early for wine anyway.” He walks into his kitchen. “I’ll just get us both water.” Returning with a couple of bottles, he joins me on the sofa. “So, how is everything with you?” I can hear the strain in his voice as he looks for clues on my face.

“Well, they’ve been better.” Even after a long swig of my water, my throat is still parched. “It’s been a rough couple of days. I’ve really needed to talk to you, but I didn’t want to do this over the phone…”

“Wait, Isabella.” He holds his hand up like a stop sign, cutting me off. “Everything can be explained, okay? Can’t you just hear me out first?”

“No, not right now. There’s something I have to get off my chest first—”

“Isabella!” The exasperation is his voice shuts me up. “There isn’t another woman. How could there be? After I met you, I didn’t want to meet anyone else—”

“No, that’s not what I wanted to say. Not exactly.” Have my hands ever been this interesting before? I can’t seem to tear my eyes off them as they tremble slightly. He’s not Joseph, Isabella. Give him a chance.

Colt’s ringing phone interrupts our moment, a moment that feels like it’s locked in ice and lost in darkness. I’m in a dreamlike daze as he answers and walks into the kitchen. I let my thoughts drift away from my fears and let myself imagine, just for a moment, how this could go.

The Hudson looks absolutely spectacular from Colt’s window. What if we’re meant to be? Maybe I could spend my mornings soaking in that view over breakfast, and lunch, and dinner…

“What? Where?” Colt yells into the phone and freezes in place. “No! Don’t do anything until I get there!” His body contorts like he’s been sucker punched. “I will be there in less than four hours”—he looks at his watch frantically—“five at the most. Just hold on.”

Hanging up the phone, he looks around the apartment wildly as my confusion grows. “What’s going on? Are you leaving?”

“Yes, I have to go right now. Where the fuck is my bag?” He runs down the hallway to his room, and I follow like a confused child who’s woken up from a bout of sleepwalking.

“You have to go now? Right now? You’re running out the door again? For God-knows-what and for God-knows-how-long? Colt! I’m sick and tired of this! I’m not gonna be in a relationship with some kind of fucking Houdini. Hey, are you even listening to me?” I watch as he tosses some clothes and deodorant in a gym bag and brushes past me.

“Look, I don’t have time to get into all of this right now. My little girl is sitting with a goddamned social worker, and I need to go get her. If you want to know why I keep taking off, then just come with me. I don’t have time to explain it. I have to get on a flight!” Colt scoops up his keys and double-checks his pants for his wallet as I stand in the center of his bedroom frozen.

His little girl? A social worker? My mind keeps turning over the words, but they aren’t making sense.

“Colt, what the hell are you talking about?” I twist my hands in frustration. “Just give me five minutes and tell me what the hell is going on,” I plead.

“Isabella! I don’t have time for this! Are you coming or not? I have to go now!” The panic in his eyes makes my stomach lurch.

I want to blurt out my news. Tell him I’m pregnant and for him to hold me. The moment when I actually saw this all working out is evaporating in front of my eyes and I want it back. Yet, my curiosity is overwhelming. Since I’ve met Colt, he’s been running out the door. If I go with him, I might finally get some answers. Or at least a clearer picture of who the father of my child is. I need to know what this is all about. Who the mysterious magnet that keeps pulling him from my life is. His little girl? Another child? I can’t stay in the dark anymore. I need to know what’s going on.

“I’m coming with you.”