Today is the day I return his jacket.

For good.

I'm going to go over and personally deliver it. Then, I'll head home to celebrate my Thanksgiving break by packing up my childhood house and jamming out to an epic Celine Dion cry fest.

I'm nervous because it's been three weeks since I've seen Tariq and felt his warm lips on mine. He's back to being the big man on campus and dominating in hockey. In fact, it's because of hockey I haven't seen him. He's been out of our night class because of his games.

Everyone whispered for a week about his breakup with the girl who wore his jacket.

I guess no one took the time to know my name.

What really sucks, is that on those rare chances I get a glimpse of him walking around, he's been all smiles. People are swarming around him, guys high-fiving him...

Girls flirting with him.

He's getting through it and getting stronger, focused on his healing process, while I'm decaying on the inside. I'm a has-been trapeze artist who got a big head and is now upside down, blood rushing to my head, and hanging from the strings of my life, my big toe the only thing keeping me from falling.

I've made progress though. I can think about my dad and smile at the happy memories now. I'm not as overwhelmed anymore.

But it's like this...

If my big toe, trapeze artist analogy didn't do it for you...

Tariq is Chance, the young bulldog from Homeward Bound that's easily able to climb out of that muddy pit. I am Shadow, the old fart, golden retriever that's too old and injured to make it out. It doesn't matter how deep I bury my paws into the mud to pull myself out, I just keep slipping back down.

Hopefully, like Shadow, it's going to take time and once I muster up that strength, I'll be limping my way to where Tariq is. I may be muddy, beat down, and hurt, but I made it out.

Out of that pit.

But for now, I need to catch my breath and let myself grieve.

I haven't been answering my phone calls and all the unanswered calls and messages from my evil step-sister can wait. I can't deal with this grief and process her return at the same time. I've only ever met her once and I was honestly too young to remember.

All this can wait because...

Piggly Wiggly and I meet again.

My eyes dart back and forth as the tension makes them sore, causing me to blink the dryness away.

I take a deep breath.

This time, it is not between instant breakfast or cereal.

Nope.

First Response or Clear Blue.

I grab the pink one with three tests, cause let's be honest, I'll be doing more than one. I put it in my basket and bulldoze straight for the self-checkout, praying no one from school sees me.

Once I checkout, I rush to my car, throw my bags in it, then gun it back to my dorm. As I drive, I bounce my knees together, trying to calm my restless legs.

Who knew I'd be so anxious to pee on a stick?

I park near my dorm since I'll be leaving right after this. I snatch the bag carrying the very thing that could potentially change my life forever and fast walk to my building, my keys clinging, vibrating along with my racing heart.

Everything becomes a blur as I race into the bathroom and do my business in the stall. I pace back and forth, counting the tiny steps I take from the toilet paper dispenser to the metal box that shall not be named. A box I should be using right now, cringing my face as I throw away my unmentionables, but I instead had to pee on a stick.

I haven't felt like myself this week and my period was supposed to be here by now. I've been super sluggish and tired, feeling those waves of dizziness that make me almost faint.

With that thought, my curiosity and nerves coil in my stomach.

I stretch to my tiptoes, my eyes widening, mouth pulling down, head moving back and forth a little as if I'm in class, trying to cheat and by looking at someone's test answers.

Nothing.

I can't see anything.

My eyes zoom in on my phone and I still have a minute. This is why I needed three. I have the patience level of a two-year-old. Feeling snarky, I scrunch my face at it and go, "Beep! Beep!"

I lunge, swiping up the lightweight messenger off the toilet's top that's carrying a potentially very heavy truth. I swallow and glance down at the thing pinched between my shaky fingers.

Two.

VERY.

Pink.

Lines.

I turn and sit down on the toilet. not realizing the cover was still up. So yeah, I maybe fell through and got my skirt a tad wet. But nothing could stop the tears and pure joy I am feeling at this moment.

My heart literally exploded in me and, yes, I'm scared out of my mind, but I have something I didn't know I'd ever get or wanted in life...

A baby.

Something linked, belonging to me. Yep, my life is in shambles but something about this news strengthens me, and I have a baby to fight for, not just myself anymore...

I'm not by myself anymore.

I don't know how I'm going to do it but somehow, I'm no longer a has-been trapeze artist, dangling by my big toe hanging upside down on a piece of string. I just became freaking Spiderman and these strings are going to become my web where I make my home for me... and my child.

But before that, I have to not only deliver Tariq his jacket but the news he's a dad so...

No pressure.

"Hey, Tariq, so here's your jacket, um there's something I have to tell you. I know it's not the best time and all, especially after everything and with Thanksgiving. I also know we were kinda sort of a thing but not really. Um, anyway... I'm really excited and I hope you will be too..." I take a deep breath then blow it out slowly. "I'm pregnant."

I smack my forehead against my steering wheel.

"No. No. No." I take a deep breath for another practice round. "Hey, BFF, so can I come in? I have news to share with you?" I pause. "We walk through the door, I sit him down, then..." I scrunch my face in an effort to come up with some kind of game plan of what to say. "I'm pregnant."

Frustration rolls off me and it doesn't matter how many times I rehearse it, no matter what, something else is going to come out of my big mouth. There's also the understanding that this is going to change his life, and I'm terrified of how he'll react. What he'll say. He just had a complete and total breakdown, will he be able to handle this?

This has given me the push I need.

Will it for him?

I need to go and do it though because I've been sitting outside his house now in a running car for about... fifteen minutes.

How do other women do this?

When I had googled it, it was all cutesy stuff that made me want to throw my phone right out of my car and into the road to suffer a horrible, cracking, shattering death.

My legs bounce and I push up my glasses and fix my hair a little. I'm a bundle of nerves, butterflies swarming my stomach trying to murder me with their fluttery wings.

Enough!

Go do it!

On shaky, tired legs, I get out of my car.

Okay, good start.

Now just walk to the door.

You can do this.

As I pass by Tariq's jeep, a wave of dizziness hits me, and my hand braces itself onto the car. I take deep breaths, combating it, then continue my march. I knock on the door, loud, authoritative, ready for action.

Rasheed opens it. "Special Agent Mitchel?"

I straighten as a roll of exhaustion sweeps over me. Gosh! I just want to sleep. "Hey, Special Agent R, is Tariq here?"

He shakes his head, brow pinching together, mouth set in a firm line. "No, he went home last night with my dad, mom, and sister. He left me the jeep cause I have one last class. You okay? You don't look so good?"

Well, shoot!

All that preparation for nothing.

"I'm peachy," I say with a smile. "Here, I'll give this to you then to give to him."

Rasheed glances down at the jacket. "He'll kill me."

I pause. "Why?"

"Because he gave it to you and it's been driving him nuts that you haven't been wearing it."

I go to say something but stop, totally confused. "But we aren't together anymore."

Rasheed's eyes widen until he resembles Igor from Young Frankenstein. "Uh, does my brother know that?"

"Of course he does," I state. "Why do you think I haven't been around?"

"Cause he needed to get his crap together, which is what he's been doing. He's never been so laser-focused. I mean he's miserable without you around and a real dud. Actually, I really hate being around his broody, doom and gloom self. His face has never looked more punch worthy."

Rasheed crosses his arms and looks at me with eyes that are so similar to Tariq's and it's right there I realize how hard it's been without him, and how much I've missed him.

I love him so much it's painful.

"But," I whisper, "he looked so happy when I would see him. He's like his old self again and all the girls--"

Rasheed rolls his eyes, actually rolls his eyes at me, then pinches the bridge of his nose. "He's been giving you space. I'm telling you, and I'm being totally honest with you to a fault if Tariq finds out what I'm about to divulge to you... I'm a dead man."

"What?" I ask breathlessly.

"After two days of no contact, he rushed out the door, drove to your dorm, and was too chicken to go inside to see you. He did it, I would say a total of seven times, maybe more, because he probably snuck some in without my knowing."

Rasheed looks me up and down. "One day, in particular, you were walking to a class, not noticing us, looking like you were at death's door. Your eyes were swollen and puffy, face red and blotchy, eyes dull and sad. He about lost it and I had to talk him down. Have you been eating? Taking care of yourself? Because looking at you now, I'd say no."

The truth hits me hard.

I hadn't been and I need to now.

"Not really," I answer honestly.

"You know you're killing him, right?" Rasheed asks. "He's a mess trying to keep his distance."

My defensive prickliness bubbles to the surface. "He's the one who said he needed more time."

Rasheed laughs. "Yeah, he was over that about the second day. Like I told you, he drove to your dorm wanting to tell you how big of an idiot he is."

I swallow and pull the jacket back into me, his scent long gone from it and I want it back. I want him back. "Can you tell me why he gave this to me? It was Paul's, wasn't it?"

Rasheed takes a deep breath. "Yeah, Tariq had to get that back from that frat after..." he swallows and looks away. "After the accident. Paul had left it there. Tariq wore it around here to let the frat know he'd never forgotten and one day they'd have to own up to what they did."

"So?" I ask as tears prick my eyes.

"When he put it on you, he thought you were so stinking cute in it. His words, not mine." Rasheed clarifies. "I'd never use the phrase stinking cute. Anyway, I think that day a little bit of that pain went away, and seeing you in it has helped ease the pain for him."

I clutch onto it now. "I need to go, but would it be bad if I called him?"

Rasheed shakes his head in disbelief. "And here I thought you were wise beyond your years, Special Agent Mitchel. Yes, please call him. You'll actually make him grateful for something. If you don't, I may end up killing him this Thanksgiving and I don't want my mother's wrath for the unfortunate death of her firstborn."

My eyes narrow. "You touch him in any way and I won't kill you, but torture you slowly and painfully."

Rasheed holds up his hands, chuckling. "Alright, Special Agent Mitchel, I'll save the bloodbath for you."

I smile and step down, heading back to my car. "I'll call him on the road."

When I don't hear a reply I turn around and Rasheed is already inside. I pop open my door and when I slide in my phone starts ringing. I pick it up and see flash across it.

I hastily swipe my thumb across and bring the phone up to my ear. "Tariq?"

"Holy hell it's so good to hear your voice, Blue."

Tears fall freely down my cheeks. "I miss you," I croak out.

"I miss you too."

"Did Rasheed text you or something?" I ask.

"Yeah, he told me to call you." His voice is rumbly perfection and I wish I was with him right now.

"You came to my dorm seven times."

"No, twelve," he replies immediately.

I laugh. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that."

"I don't care. I have no problem admitting it." It's silent for a beat. "Rasheed texted me saying you lost weight and look like crap."

I scoff. "Wow, that's super nice to hear."

"Elodie." Tariq's frustrated and something about the way his voice softly growls my name out, makes me oddly happy.

"Only a little," I whisper. "Nothing to concerning." My heart is light, yet heavy at the same time as I switch the subject, fiddling with a pen that's sitting in my car for way too long, ink probably long dead and gone. "It hurt, seeing you around. But it hurt the most when I couldn't come over and show you up in GoldenEye."

His laughter is healing, deep, and melodic.

Everything.

I can't tell him now. I need to do it face to face. Swallowing, I put my car in drive. "Mind talking to me as I drive home?"

"I'd love that, babe."

SURPRISE PREGNANCY!!!!! 😱😱😱😱😱 you all probably saw it coming lol! Oh man, that's been a hard one to keep to myself lol! Any guesses how Tariq will take the news?

Wonder what Elodie is in store for when she gets home? If you are press that little star button for me :)

And ya'll 8k!!!! I'm so spoiled!!! I'm so shocked by all the love this story is getting

Thank you everyone from the bottom of my heart!!!

LivingRed