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Thirty-Eight

The house smelled like a funeral home and looked like a flower shop. Chelsea and Cynthia came out of the kitchen and told her that casseroles were in the fridge and to call if there was anything she needed.

“I mean it,” Cynthia repeated at the entry before leaving, and Madison had this horrible cinch in her chest. Her mind kept coming back to Garrett Murphy returning to the lab. What if he had noticed the mystery woman’s face on Cynthia’s monitor and felt threatened? Had he been the driver who struck her?

“Thanks,” she said.

Troy closed the door behind her, and the house felt so quiet with them gone—except for her mind, which was whirling. She really could use Hershey’s fur, but he wasn’t there. “Where’s Hershey?”

“At the kennel. I figured having him around might be too much for now.”

She nodded, but Hershey never felt like any amount of work to her, and she missed the little guy. Troy must have been thinking he’d need to take care of her, and having Hershey there as well would be a lot. “You know I’m fine, right?”

Troy met her gaze, and in his eyes, she witnessed how exhausted he was.

“Never mind,” she conceded. “You’re probably right, and you’ve been through a lot too. You must have been scared.”

“If I were you, I’d say something similar to ‘more than I’d like to admit.’”

“Seriously? As if I’m the only one in our relationship who holds back their true feelings.”

“I am one hundred percent open with you, Maddy. I have been from the beginning.”

She wanted to contest his claim. The ring hidden away in the laundry closet proved he wasn’t as open as he was trying to present himself. Then again, maybe he was still planning to pop the question. If so, why not after finding out about the baby? It would have been the perfect time to seal the commitment of their relationship, but maybe he didn’t want to force it. Really, she could spin with all the hypotheticals.

He helped get her positioned on the couch with a pillow at her back and her legs along the length of the couch and over his lap. He started to rub her feet.

She closed her eyes. “You can do that forever.”

“Then I’m not doing it right.” He kneaded his knuckles a little harder into her soles.

“Ouch.”

“You have a lot of tension down here for someone who’s been lying on their ass for a few days.”

At first, she heard lying their ass off. It was moments when she was alone with Troy that guilt ate her, gnawing her bones, sucking her marrow. She had never exactly lied to him. More like omissions or white lies, saying she was working. He’d think she meant a murder case, but his assumptions weren’t her responsibility.

Troy stopped the foot massage, rested his hands on her shins, and let out a deep breath.

“You all right there?” she asked.

He smiled at her. An expression she used to nearly beg for him to show popped up often and easily since the baby news. His enthusiasm over their child made her feel like a charlatan.

“Things are going to change a lot around here,” he said, confirming his mind was on the baby.

“They sure are.” She wanted to amuse him and talk about their future, but she would rather close her eyes and plug her ears to the pregnancy. Nothing against the baby, but she’d never planned on being a mother. Maybe if she switched the subject… “No luck on finding the truck that hit me yet?” A throwaway question and a poor attempt at conversation. Troy would have told her if he’d had any news.

“Not yet. I have local collision centers and body shops on the lookout. Whoever struck you could have taken their truck outside the city though. Who knows? So…I was thinking I could order in some Chinese.”

Apparently, he didn’t want to talk about the lack of progress. “It’s been a long time. But didn’t Chelsea and Cynthia bring food?”

“They sure did.” They met each other’s eyes and laughed. She clutched her side.

It felt good not being the one on the receiving end of cooking insults for a change.

“I’ll call.” Troy patted her leg and got up from the couch. He paced the room as he placed their order.

While the thought of real food that didn’t come from a hospital cafeteria sounded like heaven, she couldn’t wait for life to return to a relative normal, even if that period would only last until the baby’s arrival.

“Food should be here in forty minutes.” He pocketed his phone and returned to the couch.

“Which means ten.” Their local Chinese food restaurant was always at their door faster than their estimate.

“Interested in watching some TV?” He picked up the remote and flicked the television on without waiting for her answer. “Anything you want to watch, name it.”

“An Affair to Remember.” She suggested the chick flick just for a reaction.

“Okay, anything but that.”

She smiled. “I’m good with anything. But sports,” she amended.

He found a sitcom they typically both enjoyed, and they settled in for at least the ten minutes Madison had predicted before there was a knock on the door.