She closes the car door, and looks to her right. Jane finds her best friend sitting in the passenger's seat deeply enveloped in thought. She clears her throat, "Maura?"
"Yes?" Maura answers without making eye contact.
"Talk to me," Jane says simply, and softly.
Maura exhales, and then turns towards her best friend, "What do you want me to say?"
"Anything."
"This is completely terrifying. Before I was just worried that my subarachnoid hemorrhage would rupture, and I would die."
"Maura!"
"This just complicates everything. What if something does happen? What if I die during childhood? What if because of me there is something wrong with the baby? What if the baby is born prematurely, and does not survive? Every bit of this is on me."
Jane allows her to finish, "Are you done?"
"Yes," Maura nods in confirmation.
"You have been presented with all of the risks. Have you considered the benefits?"
"Are you asking me to do a risk-benefit analysis?"
"Yes," Jane confirms.
"I have," Maura replies.
"Have you reached a verdict?"
"This sucks," she answers, candidly.
"Do you know what you want to do?"
"No," she answers in a small voice.
"What does your gut say?"
She grins for a brief moment, "That it is glad it isn't your gut."
"Excuse me?"
"You spent over an hour in the bathroom having periods of emesis this morning," Maura points out.
"We are talking about you," Jane redirects her.
"Can we talk about you?"
"Nope," she responds adamantly.
"Why does everything in my life have to be so complicated?"
"Because you make it complicated. Maura this is simple. What do you want? What is your heart telling you?"
Maura doesn't answer.
That night, after work Maura is at home, watching her Keurig brew a cup of green tea. She leans against the counter, with her elbows resting on its surface. Her chin rests on her fists. The mundane moment is interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on her door. She turns, and heads for the door. She checks the peephole, and finds a goofy grin waiting on the other side. She unlatches the door, and pulls it open.
"May I come in?" Kent questions.
She nods, "You may."
He enters the house, and she closes the door behind him. He follows her into the kitchen.
"Maura can we talk?"
"Of course," she nods, "Have a seat," she points to a barstool.
He touches her arm, and she turns around, to face him.
"Where is this going?"
She falls silent. He can feel her shutting down.
"I feel like things have been going well between us, void for the first awkward morning, when I woke up, and you had ducked out."
"They have," she agrees.
"We have spent a lot of time together, and it seems as if we have made progress."
"Yes," she confirms.
"I know that you feel professional boundaries are very important. I am not asking you to violate your moral compass."
Maura furrows her brow, "Where are you going with this?"
"You have yet to even define what this is."
"I was not aware that I had to."
"Are we cohorts with benefits, or…"
"We go to dinner," she points out.
"Is that all it is ever going to be?"
"I wasn't looking for a relationship," she admits.
His facial expression changes, as he looks her in the eyes, "Oh," he responds, in a dejected tone.
"Can I ask where this is coming from?"
He nods, "I certainly feel as if we are evenly matched. I want to think that you feel the same. I have to admit that each day I grow even fonder of you. I hope that you feel the same way. I see a future with you, and I want to move forward. I want to define this he answers."
She studies him closely. He is wearing a pair of khaki's, a blue polo, and a pair of boat shoes. She notices his neck pulsating. She picks up on the sweat pooling near his armpits. His cheeks are rosy in color.
"Kent why are you so nervous?" She queries.
"No, reason," he answers in an uncharacteristically high tone.
She tilts her head, and continues to further scrutinize him. She furrows her brow, "Do you have something in your pocket?"
"Keys," he answers too quickly.
"Why are you acting so weird?"
"I went for a run this morning, and I happened to see something in a shop window that reminded me of you."
"That is sweet."
"I went inside, and I realized that I couldn't leave without it."
"What is it?"
"This is all wrong. This is not how I envisioned this. I feel like a fool. I should go. Now isn't the right time."
"What are you talking about?"
He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a box. Her eyes widen. Suddenly he is kneeling, with one knee on the floor. He opens the box, and presents it to her.
"I was really hoping that you would marry me," he admits, nervously.
"Get up!" She responds.
"Maura…"
"Get up!" She demands.
He rises from his position on the floor. She leads him to the bar stool that is tucked under the counter of her island. He reluctantly takes a seat, and places the box on the countertop. She pulls out a stool, and takes a seat next to him. She turns towards him.
"You are right, now is not the time."
"I am sorry. I had an elaborate plan in my head. I wanted it to be perfect, but on my way over here, I noticed that the ring was in my pocket. I…"
"Stop."
"I know that this is very sudden. I am crazy about you, Maura. I want to make you my wife."
She rubs her temples, "I can't say yes…"
He cuts her off, "You don't feel the same."
"Kent, stop. I need you to hear me out."
"Okay," he agrees.
"I want that too," she admits.
"But?"
"I don't feel like I can say yes in good conscience. It would feel like a lie. I don't want the foundation for the rest of our lives to be built on a lie."