Twisted Truths: The Regretful Lies Duet Book 2

by Azzi, Gina

  * * *

  “I can’t believe you’re having a baby,” Charlie whistles from across our table at Shooters.

  “I know, right?” I take a long drink of my water with lemon and pop a nacho into my mouth.

  Charlie nearly drains her pint glass, her eyes cutting to mine. “I’m drinking for both of us, so…”

  “You’re a true friend.”

  “Truer words have never been spoken,” she agrees, rummaging through the nachos until she finds one with extra cheese. “How’s Eli taking the news?”

  Sighing, I hook my elbows on top of the table and pull myself closer, dropping my voice. “I think he’s happy. I mean, he definitely is happy about the baby and to become a daddy. He’s just worried, a lot more than I thought he would be. He’s been inside his own head and I know he’s calling every specialist in the country to harass them for answers to all his questions.”

  “Yeah.” Charlie polishes off her beer. “Evan said he’s practically pre-med with how much he’s learned in the last twenty-four hours.”

  I roll my eyes and Charlie giggles.

  After a beat, her expression sobers, her eyes growing serious. “Real talk. Are you sure about this?”

  “Charlie!”

  “What?” she shrugs. “I wouldn’t be a true friend if I didn’t ask.”

  “I’ve never been surer about anything in my life.” As soon as the doctor shared the news that I wasn’t dying of cancer, or really dying at all, but I was having a baby, all the fear and worry and crippling anxiety I’ve been carrying around for years lessened. The boulder in my chest shrunk into a pebble. The thought of having a baby, of saddling a child with the BRCA mutation kept me up at night for years. The fear of dying and leaving the man I built a life with and destroying him, the way Mom’s death ruined Dad, convinced me to constantly choose men with zero strings, zero attachments, and zero chances at evolving into more.

  I played it safe because I had to.

  Now, the decision is out of my hands. No use agonizing over things I can’t, won’t, change now.

  I’m pregnant. I’m in love. I’m creating a family born from so many carefully crafted lies that all held hidden truths I was too scared to hope for. My miracle was granted and I’m holding onto it with every fiber in my being.

  Across the table, Charlie studies me carefully. Her eyes dart from one of mine to the next, probing for my sincerity. I stare right back at her, widening my eyes so she can see the truth in them.

  “Do you mean Eli or the baby?” she asks finally.

  “Both.” I eat another nacho. “I mean both. And everything. All of it. Every damn thing.” I laugh, taking a swig of water and grinning at my best friend. “I want every. Damn. Thing.”

  22

  Eli

  “It’s not like, a double date, is it?” Evan asks, tossing Ollie’s soccer uniform into the washing machine.

  “You sound like a tween.” I shove my brother’s shoulder. Connor snickers, passing each of us a beer. The three of us are huddled in Evan’s hallway. Laughter from the living room, where Ollie plays Chutes and Ladders with his babysitter, float through the air.

  The sound warms my chest. Soon, I’ll have laughter in my own home.

  Evan swears at me and points at Connor. “You’re going, right?”

  “He is,” I respond. “And so is Harlow. It’s like a triple date.” I quirk an eyebrow as my brother and best friend scowl at me. Chuckling, I push off the wall and enter the living room. As soon as I see Ollie and his babysitter, Kaylee, leaning over the coffee table, giggling at the board game, I freeze.

  My throat tightens, and a wave of emotion I’m unprepared for washes over me. Is that what it will be like? Having a kid? Will we play board games? Will Zoe make us hot chocolate in the winter and pile our mugs high with marshmallows? Will she even be here? Is having this baby putting her life at risk? If she is okay, where will we live? Here in Chicago? Jesus, will I even be here for any of it with my hectic work schedule?

  I blow out a deep breath. A baby. It’s what I’ve wanted for so long and now, I’m having a kid and I’m…what? My heart thuds, the pace increasing the longer I watch Ollie play. I’m panicking. Not because I’m having a baby but because I’m having a baby with Zoe. Is she healthy enough to survive this pregnancy? Should she have our baby?

  Guilt floods my stomach for even thinking about an alternative. It expands upward until I feel like I can’t swallow against it. What the hell is wrong with me? Of course she’s going to be fine. We’re all going to be fine, right?

  “You okay, man?” Connor asks, leaning against the opposite doorframe.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s a lot to process,” he glances over at Ollie and Kaylee. “It’s okay if you’re not—”

  “I’m happy.”

  “Okay.”

  “I am.” I look at him. “I am. It’s just…fuck. Zoe’s health is a big fucking question mark. And my life is so goddamn inconsistent. I need a new job. Should we buy a house? I don’t know anything about car seat safety guidelines.” I pause, a more important thought toppling the rest. “I haven’t even taken Zoe on a real date.”

  Evan laughs, stepping in between Connor and me and clasping both of our shoulders. “Good thing we’re all going on one right now.”

  I shake off my brother’s hand and turn. Connor is staring at me but I can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “It’s just dinner. With friends.”

  “Oh, now it’s just dinner,” Evan says, irritating me. “Kaylee, we’re heading out. I’ll be back around 11:30 or so. You,” he points to Ollie, “can stay up thirty minutes past your bedtime, but make sure you brush your teeth.”

  “Got it, Dad.” Ollie runs over and throws his arms around Evan’s legs. “’Bye, Connor. Uncle Eli.” He hugs each of us before returning to Kaylee.

  “Come on,” Connor drags me out of the living room, toward the front door. “You and Zoe are going to figure all of this out, man. This is how all new parents feel.”

  But what if Zoe isn’t here with me to figure it out? I want to shout. Instead, I cut him a look.

  “I’m serious.” He glances at Evan.

  “He’s right,” my brother agrees. “First rule of parenthood—no one knows what the hell they’re doing. We’re all just trying our best not to fuck our kids up enough to land them in constant therapy.”

  “See?” Connor holds the door open for me.

  “You guys suck.” I zip up my coat and step outside. Behind me, Evan and Connor continue joking around, but a new thought holds my attention.

  Am I going to fuck my kid up?

  * * *

  The Mexican restaurant is loud and boisterous when we arrive. It bursts with color from the decorative floor tiles and the intricate wall tapestries. It pulses with noise from the background music and long tables filled with chattering patrons.

  “I’ve been wanting to try this place.” Evan folds his coat over his arm, scanning the restaurant for the girls. “It’s supposed to have a great mixologist.”

  “You sound so bougie.” Connor lifts a hand. Harlow freezes when she sees him. “Here we go.”

  The three of us make our way to the table. Zoe’s face lights up when she sees me. She looks beautiful with her hair pulled back, long earrings framing her face, and an off-the-shoulder sweater showing off her sun-kissed skin.

  “Hey,” she grins up at me as I lean down and brush a kiss over her lips.

  “Hi,” I smile back, taking the seat beside hers and greeting Harlow and Charlie. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine. Good.” She places her hand in mine under the table and squeezes. “How are you? Any updates on your press tour?”

  “Yeah. Got a bunch of interviews coming up. Mostly in L.A., but a few in New York. Some random cities thrown in.” My eyebrows furrow as I say the words. “Let me talk to Helen. Maybe I can do them remotely. Like Skype in or something.”

  “What? Why?”

  “It’s a lot
of dates. I’ll barely be here.” I glance at her, frustrated by the confusion marring her expression. Does she not want me here? Does she not want me to go to all the doctor appointments with her?

  “We’ll figure it out. I don’t expect you to drop your career because we’re having a baby,” she says slowly, staring at me.

  I work a swallow and lean back in my chair. What the hell does she expect of me then? Just to pop in and out of my kid’s life? Miss her entire pregnancy because I’m doing a press junket? A pregnancy that may have a hell of a lot of complications?

  Charlie passes me a full glass. “Have a margarita.”

  “Thanks.” I accept it gratefully, raising it toward her. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers,” Zoe responds.

  Glancing at her, I take in her water glass, “I don’t have to drink.”

  “What? No, it’s fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “Why are you being so weird?”

  “I’m not. I’m just…trying to do the right thing.”

  “For who?” she asks, sounding genuinely confused.

  “Hey, you guys good with chips and guac?” Harlow leans over Zoe and asks us.

  “Yeah, whatever,” I flick my wrist, taking a large gulp of my margarita.

  Zoe shifts her weight away from me and engages in conversation with Harlow and Evan. Across the table, Charlie shoots me a sympathetic glance, but I dodge her conversation by polishing off my drink.

  Zoe slips her hand off my thigh. I wince at the loss of her touch. I’m messing this up big time, but what the hell? Doesn’t she want to figure things out? Like, where the hell we’re going to live? And if she’s going to travel to any of my film premieres? I guess I can’t skip those. Is she even able to travel? What does her doctor think?

  “Hey.” Connor hands me a Corona. “Get out of your head and relax. Just enjoy the dinner.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” I take a swig of beer. The tangy taste does nothing to ease my mounting anxiety. Glancing over at Zoe, laughing and dipping a chip in guacamole, I frown. Is there anything she shouldn’t be eating while pregnant?

  “Zo, you can have avocados, right?” I ask, leaning closer to her.

  She offers me a bewildered look that slowly fades into frustration. “Yes, Eli. I’m allowed to eat guacamole.” She stuffs a chip laden with guac into her mouth and chews loudly in my face.

  “Okay,” I agree, picking up a chip and dunking it in the salsa.

  “Take it easy, man,” Connor warns from across the table.

  Dinner carries on, but I’m barely checked into the conversation. The restaurant is too loud and I can’t hear what anyone is saying anyway. I glance around at all the families in the place and wonder what the kids’ parents do for work. They’re most likely not actors. I bet they don’t miss their kids’ parent-teacher conferences. They probably make waffles on Sunday mornings. I don’t even own a waffle maker.

  I drain my beer, catching the eye of a server and indicating I’ll take another.

  Are all these kids’ parents married? Nah, definitely not all. But most of them? Does it matter? Of course not.

  “What would you all like to order?” the server asks, passing me a beer. She makes her rounds, jotting down everyone’s order.

  Zoe glances at the menu before looking up. “I’ll take the chili relleno.”

  I find her order on my menu and wince. Leaning closer, I whisper in her ear, “Are you sure you can have that? There’s queso fresco and unless it’s pasteurized—”

  “Oh my God,” Zoe turns, her elbows dropping to the table.

  Our friends quiet down as Evan gathers the menus and passes them to the server. Harlow orders an entrée for me.

  “I’m just checking because there are certain foods you’re supposed to avoid when—”

  Zoe turns her glare upon me, her honey eyes hardening. “Don’t lecture me on being pregnant. I can take care of this baby just fine.”

  “That’s not what I…” I pause, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I know you can take care of the baby. I just want to make sure you know what foods you’re supposed to avoid.”

  She throws her hands in the air. “Are you going to be like this the whole pregnancy?”

  “If I’m here,” I mutter, taking another swig of beer. I’m supposed to be in New York in three fucking days. Does that mean I’ll miss Zoe’s appointment on Monday?

  “What the hell is that supposed to be mean?” she bites out.

  Glancing up, I take in the shocked and silent faces of the table. What the hell?

  23

  Zoe

  “Are you planning on not being here?” I ask Eli outright, my patience with him waning with each passing second.

  “What?” he looks around, confused.

  “What the hell did you mean, ‘If I’m here.’”

  Realization dawns on him that yes, he did in fact say those words out loud. I can tell he’s mentally backpedaling. “I meant because of my job. Because of the upcoming press junket. Because we’re trying to blend our lives together and you don’t even want to talk about it. About anything.”

  “Talk about it? All we’ve done since I found out I’m pregnant is talk.” I raise my voice over his, my irritation swelling. “You’re like a broken record asking me if I’m allowed to have that cup of coffee, if I accidently woke up on my stomach, if I was careful when I walked to my car because of the ice. I’ve got this, Eli. I don’t need you breathing down my neck over every little thing.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  “Oh, yes it is. You’re driving me nuts.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re not including me in everything.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I lean forward, crowding him so he can see just how pissed off I am. In my peripheral vision, I see our friends exchange looks.

  “You’re making all of these decisions about things, doctor’s appointments and ultrasounds, preventative surgeries and timelines, prenatal vitamins and yoga classes, and not even talking to me about it.”

  “What?” I laugh, the sound hard and jarring. “Am I supposed to run everything by you now?”

  “I just want to know—”

  “Having a cup of coffee or taking a vitamin isn’t me cutting you out of this process.” My frustration flickers into hurt and I blurt out, “Newsflash, I’m not Natalie.”

  Horror washes over Eli’s face as his mouth twists in pain.

  Shit. A swell of guilt crashes on my head and I take a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts.

  “Okay, what if we save this for—” Harlow jumps in.

  “This doesn’t concern you, Low.” Eli says, swinging his gaze back to mine. “I know you’re not, that’s not what…” he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You have an appointment on Monday.”

  I nod.

  “I’m supposed to be in New York,” he scrubs a hand over his eyes, his mouth tight.

  I stare at Eli. As always, he looks sexy as hell. Broad shoulders pulling at his Henley shirt, the sleeves pushed up on his forearms. Ripped jeans, styled hair, and the perfect amount of stubble coating his jawline. Beneath his hot exterior, however, he has shadows stamped under his eyes. He seems lost in his own head and hasn’t stopped fidgeting since he sat down.

  Just as suddenly as it spiked, I feel my anger drain away. Eli is spiraling. Not because he doesn’t want to be here for me or the baby, but because he doesn’t know how to do all of this, to be everything to everyone all at once. No one does.

  I came home to a miracle, in the city that I live, with a career that I can easily tailor to my new lifestyle. Who doesn’t love the idea of That Fit Bitch Mom Life? I’m transitioning into this next chapter, while Eli seems at a complete loss.

  I can’t blame him for that.

  “Eli.” I reach out a tentative hand and place it on his forearm. His muscle tightens under my touch. “I’m sorry.”

  “I wasn’t trying to treat you like you’re Natali
e.”

  “I know.”

  “I just…I don’t want to miss everything.”

  “I get it.”

  “I don’t know how to do all this, with work and L.A. and you being here. We’ve never been on a real date since the movie wrapped.”

  I grin, edging closer. “Are you asking me out, Eli?”

  Charlie snickers across the table.

  Eli shifts, wrapping his arm around me. “Just, don’t shut me out, Zoe.”

  “I promise, I won’t. I have a doctor’s appointment this week. I’ll make sure you’re able to come and you can ask my doctor all your questions. And, take me out to dinner. Someplace fancy and expensive so I can watch other people drink champagne.”

  The glimmer of a smile ripples over his mouth, turning the corners upwards. “You know I love you, right?”

  “All the world, Hollywood.” I kiss the underside of his jaw.

  “Whew.” Charlie fans herself across from us. “That was intense.”

  “Seriously,” Evan agrees.

  Connor flags down a server. “We’ll take a round of tequila shots.” Pointing to me, he adds, “She’d like a Shirley Temple.”

  I laugh, and Eli chuckles.

  “We’re all here for you guys,” Connor says, staring at me and then Eli. “You’re going to be fine."

  "Yeah," Harlow chimes in, squeezing my arm before leaning forward to meet Eli’s gaze. “Eli, tell me what you want to happen. Do you want to be at every appointment? Do you want to be here for three days at a time? Five? Tell me whatever you want and let me at your schedule.” She moves her fingers in a “gimme” motion. “I’ll make it happen.”

  I smile at her. “You’re a miracle worker, Harlow.”

  Across the table, Connor stares at her, and she blushes. Rolling my eyes, I turn back to Eli, “We got this, Hollywood.”

  “Okay.”

  “Just…don’t ever get between me and a cup of coffee again.”

  He snorts, nodding as our friends laugh.