"Justin," I mumbled quickly beneath my breath, taking a subconscious step toward his form to shield myself. As if I was the one who needed to be hiding.

"What?" Justin responds distractedly. He was too busy comparing paint swatches to acknowledge my existence and I rolled my eyes.

"We really could've done this online," I complained, looking up in time to see a mother tapping the shoulder of her older daughter before they both turned back to stare at Justin and I. My eyes shifted quickly to the polished white linoleum floors. "People are staring at you." I whispered, bringing my eyes up to Justin's face. He was still too busy making faces at paint colors.

"Sash, relax," he said nonchalantly, examining a swatch of lilac purples in the fluorescent lighting. "People have eyes and, shockingly enough, they use them from time to time."

"Don't be a smartass," I griped, "They are staring at you." I could feel my skin prickling with their nosy eyeballs on us. They were wondering what we were doing together in the middle of Lowes on a Saturday afternoon looking at paint swatches.

"I'm starting to think you're embarrassed of me," Justin joked, pouting at me over his shoulder before laughing at my glare.

"I feel like I'm part of some freak show," I complained, "Like a bearded lady in a cage..."

"I thought they were staring at me," Justin said, taking a very brief glance at a girl with her camera phone jutted towards him before going back to the paint display.

"They are but then they're thinking...'Why is he with her? Who is she?’" I explained, wrinkling my nose at my internal criticism of myself. I felt like I should've done my make up or something.

"Or maybe they just want to be you," Justin said shrugging, "They might be thinking 'Damn, she's beautiful. No wonder he's with her'." I shifted uncomfortably.

"I highly doubt that's what they're thinking," I impugned, shifting again when camera phone girl turned her device towards me. I turned myself to the side and scoffed. "I really feel like you right now. When did I become stalker camera phone worthy?"

"Well, I, for one, feel fine. I don't think I'm gonna burst into flames if a couple of people stare at me and neither will you," he smartly retorted before turning to face me, swatch in hand. "What about these purples? I like the Lavender Surprise shade." I glanced at the swatch and back at him.

"A boy shouldn't have a purple room," I stressed, crossing my arms over my chest when he smirked down at me.

"Well, it's a good thing we're not having a boy," he stated mockingly. I rolled my eyes.

"How would you know?" I asked as he turned back to the Behr Paint display in front of him. His fingers skimmed over a light pink swatch before he laid the purple shade against it to compare.

"I want a girl and your mom said it was a girl..." he tried to argue.

"My mom said a lot of things," I reminded, shivering at the memory. I was still slightly embarrassed by the whole ordeal, but grateful she had mentioned a baby shower. Clare and her were working double time planning it and I had the great pleasure of not being involved. That, unfortunately, left me with a great deal of free time to spend shopping with Justin for baby crap.

Oh joy.

"She did, but she had girls and boys, so she can tell the difference," Justin smirked, deciding he didn't like the pink shade after all as he tucked it back into its slot on the display. "Which means she has to be right about that bean in your oven."

"That expression makes no sense," I mumbled, catching another pair of fleeting eyes from our audience. "Can we go? My feet are starting to hurt." Justin glanced down at my Chucks and back at me.

"Are they swelling up already? I thought that happened later." I self-consciously looked at my feet.

"You think they're swollen?" I asked. He shrugged.

"They look fine to me, but I was just wondering how you felt," he explained, "I can give you a foot message when we get home."

"You mean you want to place your hands on my body?" I asked and he sighed deeply.

"Right... no physical contact," he said dryly as I nodded.

"Right," I agreed, "And by the way, it's not when we get home, it's when you drop me off at my house."

"Whatever, Sash," Justin sighed, "Lets just get some paint rollers and call it a day." He strolled off towards the paint supplies as I followed suit.

"Don't give me attitude because you can't understand the concept of being broken up," I grumbled, hoping he didn't hear me, but his body language stiffened with unexpressed emotion as soon as the sentence left my mouth.

"Trust me, I understand," Justin mocked, "I was just trying to offer you something nice and as usual -"

"What do you mean 'as usual'?" I asked as he stopped at the paint brush shelf, "Don't you mean that as of late? Post-break up? Post-cheating? Post -"

"It wasn't post anything," Justin said calmly, "You're impossible, you always have been. Even before we broke up or whatever, you didn't want me to do anything. I think you'd like me more if I treated you badly."

"And you don't?" I shot back, "For somebody who remembers why we're like this, you sure do sound forgetful." He sighed, angrily gathering several paintbrushes.

"Sash, I swear, I cannot win," he grumbled, "Especially now. It's like no matter how we fight or bicker or even if we're having a real good time, you'll bring that shit up over and over again. I know I fucked up, but I'm really trying, but I sometimes feel like it's not -" He cut himself short, pausing his movements to shake his head sadly. "Never mind."

I paused, not really sure if I wanted him to finish that sentence. "No, say it." I voiced out quietly. He just shook his head.

"Lets just go," he sighed, "We still have to go to the market after this."

"Don't avoid the question," I said, following him as he quickly strode away.

"That wasn't a question, it was a command," he said smartly again, checking the lines for the shortest one. Or at least he was pretending to be checking the lines.

"Oh, fuck you," I childishly spat out, "I don't know why I agreed to this stupid shopping trip."

"Do you want to go home?" Justin asked, guiding us to a self-check out counter. I scoffed at his indifference.

"You know what, Justin? That's a great idea," I seethed, "Take me the hell home." I huffed and defiantly left the Lowes Hardware store. The automatic doors slid open and closed promptly behind as I continued towards the parking lot of the mini mall. I could see Justin's truck five spaces from the door; the back was full of bags and bags of baby stuff - sheets for the crib (which was in the giant box hanging from the truck bed), an oversized teddy bear, monitors, mobiles, a changing table, diaper genie, and other knick-knacks. I actually had to pull Justin from the baby section. I was excited for the crib and the giant teddy bear was cute and completely unnecessary, but Justin had insisted in a very irresistible 'I'm-too-excited-to-be-a-father' kinda way.... Completely endearing.

I sighed and shook my head as I made my way around to the passenger side door. The worst thing about stomping out to a car was not having a key, so I leant against the shiny door and rolled my eyes impatiently. I was waiting for a minute at the most, but hearing the jingle of Justin's keys as he finally approached the truck made me want to curse him out for taking so long. I turned when the doors unlocked and pulled the passenger door open to settle into the seat. I clicked my seat belt on as Justin got into the car as well. We slammed our doors shut simultaneously and both grunted in disapproval of the synchronization of the simple movement.

Then we were heading out of the parking lot at an uncomfortably slow speed as Justin weaved through parked cars to cut off the main line of traffic. He cursed beneath his breath and glared at a driver who wouldn't let him get through.

"Asshole," he grumbled, grunting as he sped up and cut that same driver off, smiling gleefully at his accomplishment. I rolled my eyes at his immature road rage and sighed from my seat, staring longingly out of my window as we drove along the four lane Aramingo Avenue. I didn't know what I was longing for, but whatever it was left me feeling a certain hollowness. Maybe I was hungry? I touched my belly, trying to remember when was the last time I fed the little guy. I guess I should get on that.

"Can we get something to eat?" I asked reluctantly, not bothering to face him. Justin sighed as if it were the biggest deal in the world to get some Wendy's.

"Fine," he said, "What do you want to eat?"

"Anything with a drive thru," I said simply.

"Wendy's?" he suggested, reading my mind, but also seeing it from across the street. I shrugged as he hit his left signal and turned wildly past two lanes of oncoming traffic. I almost had a heart attack, but Justin didn't seem the least bit phased.

"You really couldn't wait for the light?" I scolded.

"Lady, don't tell me how to drive please," he huffed.

"Well, somebody needs to tell you because you apparently have no idea what you're doing," I complained, "We almost died."

"You're so dramatic," Justin bit back, "The light had just changed for them."

"Then why were they two inches from my window?" He rolled his eyes.

"Oh my god..."

"Don't 'oh my god' me! I'm serious," I ranted, "I'm carrying our child, Justin. Even if you're mad at me, don't kill the baby in the process." He actually laughed out loud.

"You're so... wow," he said at a loss for words.

"What does that mean?" I asked, annoyed and now extremely hungry. He just shook his head, still smirking.

"What do you want to eat?" Justin asked, ignoring my question as he pulled into the drive thru of Wendy's. We idled in front of the ordering menu and I glanced over my options.

"A number eight with a -"

"Sprite, I know," Justin said, scanning the menu for his self as I huffed and sat back into my seat.

"What if I wanted a Coke?" I mumbled beneath my breath.

"Do you want a Coke?" Justin asked, raising a knowing brow as I glared at him.

"Yes," I hissed out as he laughed and shook his head.

"You're not gonna drink it, but I'll get it," he smiled. I rolled my eyes, ignoring the knot in my stomach that told me he was right.

"Welcome to Wendy's. My name is Cheryl; what would you like to order today?"

"Hello, Cheryl, can I please get a number eight with a -" he paused to chuckle, "With a Coke. And can I also get a number five with an ice cold -" he turned to grin at me, "Sprite, yeah... that's what I really want - a Sprite." I rolled my eyes again at his immaturity. My patience was depleting.

"Okay..." Cheryl said warily, "So that's a number eight with a Coke and a number five with an ice cold Sprite. Is that correct?"

"Yes it is," Justin answered back, "Thank you, sweetheart." I felt my gut twitch as the word 'sweetheart' slipped so easily from his lips. I missed being called all those pet names and even though I was the one to reinforce the 'no affection' policy, I wouldn't be too opposed to the occasional 'sweetheart'.

"You're welcome, sir," Cheryl giggled a bit before clearing her throat to compose herself, "Twelve dollars and sixty-eight cents is your total. You can pay at the next window." Justin thanked her again and pulled up to the next window. I was a little annoyed at Miss. Cheryl's giddiness. Justin had charmed her through the ordering mic. That was just ridiculous.

Justin was beaming though as we pulled up to the window and paid the brunette Miss. Cheryl, who had to be sixteen or seventeen. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she said Mr. Timberlake ordering from her window. She had asked permission to take his picture with her camera phone and he happily obliged, posing with crossed eyes and a stuck out tongue. It was all adorable in its own right, but cars behind us beeped impatiently and I couldn't say I wasn't grateful for the distraction. Justin paid her with a huge smile, asking her how her day was and jokingly saying she should sneak him a burger. She giggled as he shamelessly flirted until we finally got our food and it was time to go.

We drove a few blocks away as I picked at my french fries. Or were they Justin's? I couldn't tell and neither could my stomach, so I continued to munch along.

"Save some for me," Justin said jokingly, reaching over blindly into my lap to grab some fries from the greasy bag I was eating out of. I rolled my eyes when he pulled out half of its contents and stuffed it into his mouth as he continued to drive. He sung obnoxious with John Mayer's album blaring from his speakers and I cringed at the squeaks and squawks.

"Someday I'll flyyyyyy! Someday I'll sooooooooarrr! Some day I'll beeee somethiiing much mooooore! 'Cause I'm bigger than my boooody now! Yeah, I'm bigger than my boooood..." Did I mention he still had fries in his damn mouth? Ladies and gentlemen - I give you the man of my dreams...

"Justin, honestly," I grumbled distastefully, eating another two fries from our bag, "You're suppose to be good at that."

"Good at what?" Justin asked, turning down the radio a bit as he pulled up to a red light.

"Singing," I answered, reaching for my Coke in the cup holder. I subconsciously wrinkled my nose at the thought of drinking it and Justin snorted a laugh, picking up his precious Sprite.

"Cheers," he said, jokingly tapping our cups as I rolled my eyes and grabbed a straw. He watched as he did the same, his grin never flattering as I slowly slipped the straw through the hole in the lid.

"Watch the road, please," I growled just as the car behind him honked. Justin tastefully flipped him off through the reflection of his rearview before I snuck a sip of my drink while he was distracted. The Coke was cold, but as horrible as I imagined it would be. I almost threw up, so I guess the baby wasn't feeling Coke either. I sighed and dejectedly placed the damned fountain drink back into its cup holder.

Justin took another sip of his Sprite and drummed his fingers against the steering as I continued to munch of my fries. I was ignoring the side-glances he kept giving me. I pretended to be too engrossed in my fries and the view of the road ahead of me to notice him, but as we pulled up to another red light, Justin sighed softly.

"Here," he said, giving my arm a nudge. I glanced down at his offering - his fountain cup of Sprite - and then looked back at him.

"I don't want your drink," I said, pushing his hand away. He sucked his teeth and jerked the cup at me.

"Take the cup," he demanded firmly. I turned my nose in the air and refused to look at him. I had a little bit of dignity and I wasn't going to give it up for a sip of soda.

"Justin, get that thing out of my face," I said threateningly.

"Take the Sprite and I'll get the Coke," Justin pressed on. He reached for my nasty Coke and I slapped his hand away.

"I want the Coke," I lied, making him roll his eyes.

"Sash, stop, you're killing me," he dramatized, sticking his free hand out the window to signal the person behind us to go around when the light changed. I stubbornly held my ground.

"You're wasting your time," I told him.

"Obviously," he said annoyed, "Take the cup."

"No," I snapped, "Just drive, damn it."

"Not until you take this cup," he said confidently. He actually leant back in his seat, putting on his hazard lights to warn the confused traffic behind us.

"You are being ridiculous," I criticized.

"The pot and the kettle, my dear," he shot back, raising a brow and wiggling the cup at me, "Take the cup."

"I don't want it," I held on, checking the side mirror for cops. I'm sure one would come up eventually and ask why we were idling in the middle of the road.

"Okay, fine," Justin said dejectedly before instantly perking up. "But...I want the baby to have it." I rolled my eyes.

"Oh please," I grumbled.

"I'm serious," Justin said smoothly, "My baby loves Sprite and, as the father, I am obligated to provide for my child. So if the baby tells me she wants a Sprite, what kind of father would I be if I didn't grant such a small request?" I shook my head at his lame ass.

"So now the he talks to you?" I asked and corrected suspiciously, "You are so full of shit." Justin cracked a bit of a smile. That lopsided halfway smile that tells me I'm right about him being full of shit, but he wasn't quite ready to voice it out loud.

"Look, think what you want, but I cannot deny my child a drink. And unfortunately, I can't give her the Sprite unless it goes through you, so you have to drink it." I marveled at his unyielding stubbornness as he comically checked his nails as he waited. I huffed and grabbed the Sprite from him; my belly (or rather the baby) was calling for the bubbly lemon-lime deliciousness. I took a sip; ignoring the knot in my gut from knowing he sipped from the same straw. It tasted even better than I remembered a Sprite ever tasting.

"The baby says thank you," I mumbled, staring at the cup in my hands when I finished my sip. I stiffened a bit when Justin shifted, his hand reaching for my cup of Coke in the holder.

"You're welcome, baby," he said gently before taking a sip of my drink. I knew he wasn't referring to Justin Junior, but I ignored it. It was easier to not feel much when I pretended it didn't happen.

"Honestly, we have to get from the middle of the street. You're gonna get some type of ticket for idling like this for no reason." I was trying to break the awkward silence with my lightheartedness. Justin was burning a hole into the side of my face with all his staring and Coke sipping.

"I had a reason," Justin said simply, but turned off his signal and hit the gas. We drove for another ten minutes, shifting the radio to a gospel station. Justin was singing along to just about every song and I wondered if there was anything music related he didn't know about. Then I started to realize that I knew nothing about his musical life in general. I didn't know what he liked to listen to, what he played instrumentally, and it made me curious to know, but weird for not knowing. Music was such a huge part of Justin's life and I was a stranger to it.

It made me feel even stupider for ever being with him in the first place. For falling in love and getting pregnant like some lovesick teenager on a terrible after school special. I glanced over at Justin who was solemnly staring out the windshield as he drove, mumbling the words to some Kirk Franklin song as his truck moved along. His buzz cut was growing in quickly. Justin had decided that the buzz was a momentary thing, I suppose. Or maybe he didn't think I liked it because he had asked my opinion on his new look and I mumbled 'it's whatever' before continuing what I was doing. I was just trying to be bitchy though. What was I suppose to say? 'Keep it, Justin! You look so damn sexy with that haircut. I just want to run my hands over your head and feel the bristled edges!'.

Nope, that wasn't going to happen. Not now and most certainly not ever. I missed his curls anyway. They were so easy to grip when... Shit, my mind should not be there. It couldn't be. Fighting my love for his dumbass was hard enough, but to not take note of every inch of muscular arms, soft lips, large, strong hands... That was even harder. Sex wasn't everything, but I knew that thinking about Justin sexually was a lot easier than thinking about what we could've had in the future. Sex was a momentary thing and it was so damn good with him. He might've failed me as a boyfriend, but a lover...I have nothing to compare to him. Hence the reason why I had to reinforce the no physical contact rule. His touch would have me all over the place and I couldn't deal with that. It didn't help that I caught him checking me out from time to time, despite the fact that I blowing like a damn balloon; he managed to find me attractive. It only made me love him more.

I jumped when Justin turned to glance at me, only to find me gawking at the side of his face. I quickly averted my vision to the windshield, staring blankly at the road in front of me. He didn't say anything, but I now realized we weren't at my house. We were turning into the Shop Rite Supermarket parking lot.

"I thought I was going home," I voiced, still too scared to look at him.

"Your fridge was practically empty," Justin said, making me feel embarrassed by how much I ate in less than a week.

"Well... I didn't buy a lot the last time I went," I mumbled, trying to make myself feel better. Justin's hand reached to lay on my knee in a comforting gestured, but he only hovered above my lap for a moment before thinking better of it. He rested his hand back on the steering wheel.

"I wasn't trying to say anything bad," he assured me gently, "I want you to eat, Sash. You're eating for two, ya know? I'm just making sure you don't have to go running around for groceries. We can just get it out of the way now." I took that as it was as we finally found a spot and parked. Justin cut the ignition and we both got out of the car. He grabbed a stray cart and we walked silently into the market. The buzz of civilians seemed to hush when we did. Two employees tapped one another and pointed from the produce section. There were some glances and shoulder tapping, but we continued towards the deli.

Justin ordered a pound of turkey for me and ham for himself before we wandered off to seafood. We go some shrimp and fish by the pound before I swung by the produce and picked up some greens.

"Hey, can you make that spinach thing you made the last time," Justin gushed giddily, "You took some to work that one time for Clare." I smirked a bit at the distant memory.

"You remember that?" I asked, amazed. I had thrown that together with some pork tenderloin. It was one of those dishes you make with whatever you had leftover and it for some reason goes right.

"I remember everything you cook," he smiled shyly before perking up, "Speaking of which, you need to make some of those white chocolate brownies again." I rolled my eyes, but smiled at the thought. They were good. Justin had eaten half the batter before I even put it in the pan to bake. Those were the good old' Matthew days and my smile flattered a bit at the longing I had for those quiet moments.

"Well, as long as you remember to grab the chocolate, I don't see why not," I said gently, "I've been meaning to give Clare a batch. I'll save you one."

"One?" Justin whined jokingly, "It was my idea."

"It's not my job to make you brownies," I said, "I shouldn't be treating you to anything." Justin rolled his eyes and guided the cart to the fruits. I could see the sudden shift in his mood as he felt up the avocadoes for tenderness. I paused as I inched towards him, not sure if I should even comfort him. I rolled my eyes when I finally came along side and nudged him with my elbow.

"I was joking around," I explained, "I wasn't trying to make you feel some type of way."

"You always make me feel some type of way," Justin said quietly, grabbing sack of oranges and tossing it into the cart. He started carting away and I rolled my eyes at him for being such a child.

"I don't mean to," I said, not sure if I was suppose to apologize.

"It doesn't matter if you mean to or not," he said softly, obviously aware that we had a partial audience of shoppers around us now. Too many people seemed to be interested in produce at the moment.

"What does that mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice leveled. Justin strolled up to me, leaning down to my level. I held my breath as his nose almost touched mine.

"We'll talk later, I promise," he said softly, so softly that I almost didn't catch it over the crappy supermarket music, "'Cause now I feel like a freak show." He gave my nose a tiny peck before pulling away completely. I stood there for a moment, trying to forget the soft warmth of his lips on my nose and trying to catch my breath. Neither was being forgotten, but my legs moved mechanically to follow him out of the produce section. Eyes and some bodies moved with us, but I was less aware of them and more aware of Justin.

He was rambling about something concerning recent research on the health benefits of whole wheat bread as he grabbed a loaf and placed it at the top of the cart. I didn't really care because the pressure of his lips still had my nose tingling and my stomach swarming. I didn't want to feel like this anymore, but it was sickeningly euphoric. I let myself feel it as I moved up to his side and grabbed a pack of English muffins to place in the cart.

"You eat those now?" he asked, smiling down at me gently. I shrugged, smiling myself as I remember shopping with Matthew and slapping his had whenever he reached for an English muffin. I told him it was bread or nothing because English muffins were disgusting.

"They have fewer calories," I said, "Besides, I tried them with some butter and they're good. Great with jelly too."

"So now they're good, huh?" he asked, pretending to be bitter. We laughed at our own lame joke and continued shopping. He convinced me to let him to come to dinner by suggesting I make some turkey meat loaf and he'll whip up his "World famous" smooth, mashed potatoes. I was reluctant at first, but the company would be nice. I think I'm smothering my poor cat with all my free time. He slept as far away from me as he could the other night just so I wouldn't reach out and hold him.

"Oh, wait," I said, suddenly remembering, "I forgot the rice." I pouted because we were halfway unpacked at the register. Justin glanced by at the aisle signs for direction.

"It's right there," he said, pointing six aisle down, "I'll be right back." He was off before I could argue. I turned to the guy waiting behind me with just a basket of things.

"You can go ahead," I offered, smiling softly at him. He smiled back, revealing his beautiful white teeth. They clashed against his brown skin as he scooted past my cart.

"Thank you very much," he said and his deep voice surprised me. It surprised me even more that he was looking back and smiling in my direction once he got around me. I looked away, getting shy and nervous as he unpacked.

"You're welcome," I mumbled.

"I'm Damon," he said, extending his hand as his items got rung up. I gave him my hand and he took an unnecessary amount of time shaking it. His palm was calloused and warm. I could feel the strength he had in them as I gently slid my hand from his.

"Sasheirah," I offered, feeling in an odd place. Justin could come around the corner at any minute.

"That's a beautiful name," he said to me, "I know that's cliché, but I don't know any other lines."

"Then don't give me lines," I said back, making him chuckle deeply.

"I'm sorry, but I get nervous and say the wrong thing," he said, looking at me with a cute boyish grin.

"Nervous?" I asked, disbelieving, "I bet you do this all the time." He chuckled again.

"No, not all the time," he disputed, "Not in a while actually. I don't find too many women who make me like I just have to talk to them or I'll be missing out on something wonderful."

"I make you feel all that?" I continued to flirt.

"Most definitely," he told me earnestly before the cashier gave him his total. He paid with a debit card before turning back to me. "But I have to ask; was that your boyfriend? I don't want to cause any -"

"Oh no," I interrupted, "He's just.... He’s..." I couldn't find the proper word, "He's...a friend. We're not like that."

"But you were, huh?" he asked as I glanced down at the frozen peas I was purchasing.

"Something like that..." I mumbled off, "But we're not together now and that's the important part, right?"

"I guess it is," he smiled charmingly, "Do you think I could call you sometime? I'd love to continue this conversation with you." My stomach did a hesitant lurch, like my gut was trying to tell me no, but I felt...rebellious. I don't know why, but Jessica's face popped into my head, smiling smugly like she had won one over on me. Justin had had his fun, so why can't I?

But then my stomach churned again and I realized it wasn't empty. It was full of a little life that I complicated not only Justin, but also any connection with any man. I wasn't going to waste this guy's time.

"I can't do that," I told him sadly, "Really, I'm dealing with some things right now and I don't think I'm all that... datable at the moment." He smirked at me, giving me a nod of understanding.

"That's cool, Sasheirah," he assured, "How about I give you my number and you can give me a call when you are... datable."

"That sounds -"

"Hey, I got it," Justin's voice suddenly broke in as he excused himself past the customers behind us, "Sorry it took so long, but I thought we might need..." When he trailed off, I realized that Damon was giving an awkward glance between myself and Justin and I turned to see Justin looking between Damon and I. I couldn't tell who looked more confused.

"Umm... this is Matthew," I awkwardly introduced, "Matthew this is Damon. We were just catching up."

"I'm sure," Justin grumbled, slapping down the sack of rice onto the register along with a bottle of honey, green tea, pasta, and a jar of tomato sauce. I guess those were the extra things he thought we needed.

"So...do you want my number?" Damon asked timidly. I could sense Justin stiffen behind me.

"Sure," I said, taking out my cell and handing it to him. He typed his number in before saving it. When I took my phone back, Damon offered Justin a courteous nod.

"Nice meeting you," he told him politely before smiling down at me, "Call me, anytime." He winked and turned to exit just as the cashier gave the total. I turned to face Justin, but he was making his way around me to slide his credit card through the machine. I didn't try to say anything. His tenseness was visible.

From the store to the car. From unloading to pulling off. All through the drive home and parking behind my Lexus...there was silence. He didn't even have the courtesy to turn on the radio. I was humming to myself must of the way home, too nervous that he'd lash out if I touched the dial and tried to block out the nothingness that was thickening the air. I almost jumped out of the car the moment he cut the ignition, but paused as Justin did. He looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it.

I placed my hand on his arm to keep him from unclipping his seat belt and jetting out of the car. He shuddered to a stop and my fingers against the fabric of his windbreaker jacket felt so out of place and tingly that I had to take my hand back and settle it into my lap.

"Look, Justin," I began, not knowing exactly what to say, "I think you're mad right now."

"I'm not mad," he quickly denied, sounding as agitated as his rigid jaw was revealing.

"That's bullshit," I sighed, "I guess I can kind of understand why, but at the same time... It's really none of your concern if I exchange numbers with somebody -"

"You actually gave that guy your number?" he asked suddenly, snapping his head in my direction. His face was so soured that I wanted to feel shame, but I just got angry instead.

"That's none of your damn business," I snapped, "How dare you make that face at me. He was very nice and last I checked, I was single."

"You know what, Sash, you're right," Justin agreed, but it was laced with too much sarcasm to be believable, "You are very much single, so you can exchange all the numbers that you want. I can't do anything about that. Date who you want and when you want because that is your business. But you can't tell me not to be angry if I see some guy talking to you."

"And why not?" I asked, "You shouldn't be rude and giving me the silent treatment -"

"Sash, I can do what I want because that's none of your business. If I'm angry, then so be it. Just because you feel some type of way about it, doesn't mean I have to appease you by plastering some bogus ass smile on my face to make you feel better about what you're doing," he ranted.

"And what the hell am I doing?" I asked, turning around in my seat to glare at him straightforwardly. "Talking to a nice guy who's interested in me? Am I not allowed to talk to anybody? Am I not entitled to a date every once in a while?" Justin's intense gaze softened before he turned away from me and unclipped his seat belt.

"Whatever, Sash," he grumbled, pushing open his door, "Do whatever you want." He stepped out and slammed his door shut, making me jump. I craned my neck to watch him walk around to the back of the truck to grab some bags. I rolled my eyes and let myself out of the car as well. I stomped up to my front door and unlocked it, pushing it open angrily. I almost hit Bob with it, but he hissed and ran off before I could apologize. I turned to help with bags just as Justin brushed past me and into the house. I ignored how good he smelled and continued on with unloading the truck.

It took about five minutes of awkward unpacking, but the truck was now empty and the baby stuff was taken upstairs by Justin as I put away the groceries in the kitchen. I was on the last bag of frozen food before I heard Justin's footsteps approaching the kitchen. I glanced at the entryway and he was leant against the frame. He was playing with his watch before finally taking notice of me. He looked embarrassed for some reason.

"I'm sorry about the car thing," he mumbled, "I overreacted." I placed the pack of chicken into the freezer and balled up the plastic shopping bag in my hand when I was done. I felt like I should apologize too.

"I wasn't even going to call him," I mumbled as well, looking him straight in the eye so he knew I was being honest. It was hard to do because his eyes told me everything. They told me he was happy to hear I had no interest; relieved, really.

"I can't say that doesn't make me happy," he told me with a hit of shame, "But I have to tell you, Sash, you were right. You are very much single and I don't have any claims on you. You're certainly allowed to date and I'm going to have to accept that, I guess. It's just hard, ya know? I don't want to see you with somebody else..."

"Well, I certainly know that feeling," I said softly before taking a sudden interest in my kitchen floor. I couldn't look at him much longer. Now his eyes were apologizing and I wasn't trying to see or hear it.

"I just...You know...how I feel about you and I can't even imagine you forgetting that this soon... It feels so anyway, but I guess we're on two different sides. Of course you want to get over me as soon as possible and the best way to do that would be to just move on..."

"That's what I'm trying to do," I admitted, "It's not easy though. Especially with the baby on the way and everything. I'm kinda...stuck here."

"I don't want you to feel like that," he said sadly, "I want you to want me here."

"Honestly, Justin, if this baby weren't in the picture, you wouldn't be standing in my kitchen right now," I sighed, watching him wince. "It's not a matter of me wanting you here. If 'want' were the issue, we'd be together. I'd trust you again. This baby thing wouldn't be so scary. The future wouldn't have to be so awkward for our kid...because I want all those things. I want to just be happy and semi-normal again, but that's not happening."

"I can earn your trust back, Sash," he said, "I'm working on that every single day."

"I do trust you, Justin," I shrugged a little, "I trust that you'll be a great father. I trust that if I call you, you'll be here in two seconds. I can give you my social security number and debit card pin and all my personal information. I trust you with a lot of things, but not in a real relationship. I'll be looking over my shoulder and checking your text messages for the rest of my life. I won't look at any female the same once she's around you... I can't do it. It's not my place to baby-sit your actions and constantly be on the look out. That's too much stress."

"I don't want anybody else," he said softly, pouting a bit. "Why can't you just believe that?"

"If the tables were turned, would you believe me?" He gave me a saddened look that told me what I already knew. I glanced at the clock above my stove and back at him.

"It's not late, but I think you should be going," I told him softly. He nodded in solemn agreement.

"I guess there won't be any brownies," he tried to laugh, but it came out strangled before he cleared his throat. "I'll let you know when I'll be by to set up the crib."

"Okay," I said simply. Justin rocked on his heels for a moment before reluctantly retreating from the kitchen. I heard him say goodbye to Bob, who meowed a cry of 'No, don't go' before my door opened and shut. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, placing my hand on my stomach. It was hard to believe there was a little person inside of me, but it was nice to have the company in lonely times like these. It was nice to have a piece of Justin so close to me without having to get hurt by it.

For a moment I wondered if our child would look just like him. A bushel of curls and a hooked little nose...The thought alone made my eyes well up with tears.