LANA MASON
Adjusting my bag over my shoulder, I walk with the longest strides that I can at six months pregnant. I'm thankful for the cool fall weather, but I still feel warm under my sweater as I tread slightly uphill. I think it has less to do with the physical strain and more to do with whatever conversation I'm about to have with Carter.
My phone vibrates in my hand, signaling that I've made it to the cafe we decided to meet at this early afternoon. I'm so thirsty that my mouth is salivating at the very thought of drinking water or anything else, and that serves as the quick distraction I need until I see Carter sitting at a two-person table. I smile tightly and reciprocate this wave, but I have no idea what to expect from this conversation.
"Hey," he stands to greet me with a half hug like he always did even when we were still sleeping with each other. I let him because I feel uncomfortable to back away before we even get into this whole situation.
"Did you order anything?" I ask.
"No, I was waiting for you," he gestures to the barista counter. "Do you know what you want? I can order if you want to sit down."
Normally, I would protest, but I just walked half a mile at a slight angle and I would like to sit down if he's offering. "Just a lemonade is good."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, thank you," I set my bag down on the table and sit down, breathing in deeply while Carter filters into the short line.
Rather than scrolling on my phone like I otherwise might have, I stare at an etch on the tabletop and consider how I'm going to begin this conversation. I could get right into it and I think I should. There's no point beating around the bush just to suddenly accuse him of what Harry told me about.
"Alright, here you go," Carter sits across from me. "Sure you don't want anything hot? It's a bit chilly out today."
"No, thank you," I sip through my straw and try not to down the whole thing in one go. "Listen, Carter, we really need to talk about something important."
Judging by the way he simply sips from his hot paper coffee cup without appearing to be all that surprised, I have a feeling he already knows what I'm about to say. "Alright."
"Last night, Harry told me that you told him at my baby shower that you still have feelings for me," I keep my tone neutral, non-confrontational.
"I did," he admits without feigning an ounce of confusion. I'm not surprised to hear the answer because I didn't doubt that Harry was telling the truth, but I'm surprised for him to admit it so effortlessly.
"Well...so, you do?"
"I do," he nods. "I wasn't going to tell you or Harry that, and I wasn't going to do anything about it, but he asked and I wasn't going to lie."
I blink at him, unsure of what to do with his blatant honesty. I suppose I believe that he wasn't going to try and wedge his way between Harry and me, considering he never once flirted with me or made a move since I got back together with Harry, but now I have to wonder what the point in being my friend is if he has feelings for me?
"If you weren't going to do anything about it, then isn't it painful to be my friend? I mean, how deep are your feelings because I wouldn't want to be friends with someone I had feelings for if they're engaged and about to have a baby with someone else."
"Yeah, well I guess I just wasn't sure if you and Harry were really end game."
My lips part before I can take another drink from my lemonade through a useless, deteriorating paper straw. "Was it the baby or the engagement ring that gave you that idea?"
