by Kally Ash
“Well, I am sorry.”
Evangeline moved to walk past her but stopped when the woman said, “He’ll come back to me, you know.”
She almost didn’t acknowledge the statement... but there was something telling her she should. “Excuse me?”
The other woman smiled. “Oh, I was just saying that he’ll come back to me—Beau, that is.” She touched her stomach again. “He wouldn’t abandon his child.”
Evangeline felt as if she were suddenly being held underwater. Everything sounded muffled. Her eyes gravitated to where her fingers caressed a nonexistent bump. “You’re...”
“Oh, I’m so rude. Let me introduce myself. I’m Lisa—Beau’s ex. I assume he’s talked about me.”
“Pregnant?” The word she’d been trying to say finally passed her lips.
Lisa nodded, a serene smile on her face. “Yes.”
“How—” Fuck, she seemed to be struggling to string two words together. She cleared her throat. “How far along are you?”
“Around nine weeks is my guess.”
So, this happened before they broke up then. Licking her lips, she added, “And Beau knows?”
“Oh, yes,” Lisa replied, that smile still in place. “I told him last week. I thought he would’ve told—”
“What the fuck are you doing, Lisa?” Beau demanded, his voice too loud and reverberating through Evangeline’s skull. Her gaze found his, but she saw nothing of the man she loved in his face. He was enraged, his anger directed at Lisa.
Lisa rounded on him. “I’m telling her the truth, Beau. If she is your girlfriend, she should know your time will be divided from now on.”
“Her name is Evangeline,” he ground out.
“Oh, I know it is,” Lisa replied, clearly baiting him.
Evangeline stared at Beau, watching how he reacted. He knew she was pregnant, yet he hadn’t bothered to tell her. They’d promised they’d be honest with each other, but this wasn’t honesty. This was deceit. This was betrayal.
This could not happen to her again.
“Excuse me,” she breathed, turning around and returning to the sanctuary of her office. She was hiding, she knew that, but she also had no desire to go out there and face her staff and customers while her whole world imploded for the second time in her life.
A father.
He was going to be a father.
To a child with his ex-girlfriend.
“Vee?” Beau called through the door. “Vee, let me in.”
Oh, she would let him in so she could tear shreds off him. Like a raging storm, she yanked open the door, fisted his shirt, and dragged him inside.
“She’s pregnant and you knew?” she asked, her voice bordering on a shriek. He nodded. “You knew, yet you didn’t tell me?”
He reached for her, but she stepped away, hissing, “Don’t you dare touch me.”
Putting his hands up in surrender, he murmured, “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“How long have you known about it?” She asked this because if he lied to her now, she’d know he could be lying about other things too.
“A week.” He slumped down into the chair opposite her desk. “She turned up at John’s place a week ago, in hysterics, telling me she was pregnant and that she wasn’t going to keep it.” Looking up, his blue eyes pierced through her. “If this is my kid, I wouldn’t want that to happen.”
She edged around her desk. “So, what, you’re going to stay with her now?”
His head jerked up. “Fuck no, Vee. If she is carrying my child, I want to be there to support her, but that doesn’t include a relationship or any emotional support. I want you. I want this with you.” He blew out a breath, saying softly, “This was supposed to happen with you. If I hadn’t fucked it up the last time, this could be my reality and I would’ve been so insanely happy right now. Instead, I’m scrambling to figure out what to do, how to stop you from leaving me.”
Yes, she had thought about that too. What would their lives have been like if he hadn’t pushed her away all those years ago? Would they be married, have a house, have kids? Her heart ached a little at the what-ifs. She was being foolish though. Beau did push her away and they weren’t even close to marriage or houses or children. And now…
And now she wasn’t sure they’d even be friends after all this.
“What’s going through your head, Vee?”
She glanced up, not realizing she’d been staring so hard at her hands. “I think you need to leave.”
“Vee, please don’t do this. Lisa did this on purpose.”
“Did what? Tell me the truth?” She scoffed. “It’s more than you told me. Now get out of my office before I call Rich to haul you out on your ass.”
22
“Are you okay, boss?” Rich asked as Evangeline stepped from the club. She glanced at him briefly before looking away.
“I’m fine,” she snipped, crossing her arms in defiance. She felt as if her heart were going to fall out of her chest.
“Are you—” Rich started, pausing when she rounded on him, her teeth bared.
“Don’t fucking ask me that again if you want to keep your job.”
He stepped down, busying himself by looking at the tablet in his hand.
She turned away. She couldn’t stay here. She had to get out, get away…
Taking off down the street, she wiped angrily at the tears burning down her cheeks. She could do nothing to stop the sting in her throat though. She heard a moan, not realizing it was her own mouth making the sound. Arriving at her apartment, she opened the door as quickly as she could, ashamed that anyone might find her like this…
Angry.
Confused.
Broken.
Beau had broken her again, only this time it wasn’t his words that had done the damage. No, it had been her words that had torn down her pieced-together heart, shattering it once more. She clutched at her chest, the pain tearing through her not a physical one. This pain, this agony, was purely emotional, but she doubted she could come back from it this time.
The tears were streaming more quickly now, her chest heaving as her lungs tried to draw in breath. She had only cried once before like this, and she’d vowed she’d never let anyone get this close again, to make her hurt like this again.
She half-turned and punched the wall, letting out her frustrations if only for a moment.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Fuck!” She stalked off into her bedroom where she could make as much noise as she wanted without disturbing the old witch next door. Kicking off her shoes and stripping down to nothing, she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She had a sudden desire to wash off the smell of Beau that was still clinging to her skin.
Beau…
He had lied to her.
It wasn’t this lie that hurt her though. It was the first one, the one that led her to give in to him again, to try and take back some of what they had four years ago.
Evangeline got into the shower, hissing when the too-hot water hit her skin. She scrubbed herself until she was raw. She didn’t want a scrap of him to remain on her. It was a pity she couldn’t scrub her memories away at the same time.
There was something that would help her forget.
Shutting off the water, she toweled off, then threw on a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt. In the kitchen she found her salvation in the shape of a bourbon bottle. Twisting off the cap, she took a drink, then another, then another.
She drank until she couldn’t see straight, and even then, she wasn’t satisfied. She needed more, but nobody would serve her this fucking drunk.
“Natasha,” she slurred, holding her finger up in the air like it was the idea of the century. Her best friend would bring her liquor. She began searching for her phone, only realizing after fifteen minutes of searching on her hands and knees that she only thought to pick up her keys—not her phone—when she left the office.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzzzzz.
Her head jerke
d up at the sound.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
She laughed, the sound almost delirious to her own ears.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzzzzz.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Fuck you, Mrs. Crocker,” she muttered under her breath as she got up and went to the buzzer beside the door. “Please tell me that’s you, Natasha, and you have a couple of dozen bottles of bourbon stashed in your Fendi handbag.” She let go of the button, resting her head on the wall. She waited for whoever was on the other side of the intercom to reply.
“Vee?”
She snarled, hitting the button a little too forcefully. “Get the fuck out of here, Beau.”
“I can explain. Please let me do that.”
“Nope,” she shot back. “I won’t be falling for that again.”
“I’m demanding a paternity test.”
Laughing derisively, she replied, “Trying to shirk your responsibilities?
You’re fucking pathetic, Beau. Why don’t you just run back to Lisa and play happy families like you always wanted to?”
“Goddamn it, Vee, will you just listen to me?”
That sobered her. Dully, she said, “No, I won’t. Not again.” Never again.
Stumbling into her room, she shut her door to block out the sound of the buzzer ringing and turned on some music. Staring at the sheets, still messed up from before she’d left for work, a sudden anger rose in her. In a frenzy, she ripped the blankets and sheets from the bed, barely repressing the urge to set the damn things on fire. She collapsed onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what the fuck she was going to do now. Well, one thing was for sure, she sure as shit wasn’t going to fall for another guy’s lies and promises. No, from now on, she was going to do one-night stands and that was it. Was it a guaranteed way to eternal happiness? Of course not, but it was the only solution that wouldn’t hurt her.
“Oh my god.”
Those are the words that Evangeline startled awake to. Squinting, she looked around the room, her vision clearing enough for her to see Natasha standing there, one hand anchored onto her hip.
“Did you bring alcohol?”
“Ah, no,” her friend said, walking into the room and flopping down beside her on the bed. “I did come with a shoulder you could cry on though.”
“How did you find out?”
“That asshole, Beau, called me on your phone. And girl, you have got to put a better password on there if people can guess it in ten seconds. Anyway, he called and told me to come by and see you. He said it was an emergency.” Propping herself up on her elbow, she stared down at Vee. “And by the looks of it, he wasn’t wrong.” She dropped back down onto her back, her hands resting on her stomach. “So tell me all about it, Vee.”
Evangeline stared at the ceiling, her eyes following a crack in the plaster as it snaked from the light, fitting in the center out to the window. She opened her mouth, closed it, then cleared her throat, already knowing her voice would be scratchy once she did figure out the right words to say.
“Beau got his ex pregnant.”
Natasha sat up, the words, “That motherfucker,” out of her mouth within a heartbeat. “I’ll gut the bastard.”
Evangeline turned to look at her. “He knew for a week—a fucking week—and he didn’t tell me.” Tears were beginning to sting the back of her eyes and she covered her face with her arm.
“Has he tried to talk to you?”
“He came around before, but I refused to let him in.”
“Do you really think that’s it? He’s given up?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I hope he has. I don’t want to see him again.”
Natasha lay back down, resuming the same position as before. “I don’t blame you for that. So what can I do to help? If you tell me go out drinking, I won’t be caught dead with you looking like that. What the fuck are you wearing anyway?”
Evangeline tugged at her shirt. “What’s wrong with this?”
“Nothing, if you intend to burn it. Like now. Oh, can we burn it now?”
She rolled her eyes. “All I really need right now is enough alcohol to make me forget for just a little while longer.”
Her best friend grinned. “Oh, that, I can do. Be right back.” Natasha slid from the bed, the apartment door snicking shut a moment later.
She heaved a sigh, staring at that same crack in the ceiling. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed it before now. She also wondered why she’d broken her own rules and let Beau past her guard again. She said no hanging out. It was supposed to be just sex—clean and simple.
Now look where she was.
Her eyes closed, blocking out the harsh glare of the overhead light. Besides a stiff drink or ten, all she wanted was to fucking wallow for twenty-four hours, then get on with her life. She came back from this last time, and she’d damn well do it again.
“Like a fucking phoenix,” she told herself bitterly.
True to her word, Natasha returned with both alcohol and Chinese food to gorge on. Natasha unloaded the takeout bag onto the bed between them before disappearing again. Evangeline heard the kitchen cabinet doors opening and closing, then the tinkle of ice.
“Here, drink this. I made it just the way you like it.”
Blindly, Evangeline reached out to take the glass, then got herself up into a sitting position. She took a large gulp of her drink, parking the rest on the nightstand beside her while Natasha began opening up the containers and handed her one.
“So what are you going to do now? Do I have your permission to gut him?”
Evangeline gave her a sidelong look. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”
She shrugged. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” she said in a singsong voice. “Seriously though, what are you going to do now?”
“I’m going to get on with my life like he never barged back into it.”
Natasha’s perfectly arched brows rose. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.” She took another swallow of her drink, staring at the bottom of her now empty glass with disdain. “I need a refill.”
Natasha huffed, snatching the glass from her hand and stalking back to the kitchen.
“You need a better plan,” she announced, striding back into the room. “You need to make him pay for this.”
This statement made Evangeline screw her face up in distaste. “That seems kind of juvenile.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Natasha shrugged, scooping up one of the containers and shoveling some noodles into her mouth.
“How’s Blake doing? Have you fucked him yet?”
Her friend looked at her pointedly as she finished chewing her mouthful. “Of course.”
“Any good?”
Lowering the food container, she rested it in her lap. “No. He was terrible. He kept trying to talk dirty to me—like cheap porn—dirty talk, and that was a real turn-off.”
Evangeline felt a smile pulling at her mouth. At least she still found something funny. “Poor Blake.”
“Poor Blake?” she spluttered. “Poor me! I was the one who had to suffer through his performance, faking an orgasm so he’d fucking get on with it.”
Evangeline actually laughed out loud at this. Seeing Natasha this horrified was hilarious. If you could liken her to a fictional character, she’d be Samantha Jones from Sex and the City, only not as secretive about her age.
Natasha’s expression relaxed, a soft smile on her face. “That’s better, Vee. I don’t like to see you all mopey.”
“I usually look mopey,” she shot back.
“No, your default is resting bitch face—which is wicked, by the way.” She took her hand, holding it lightly between her own. Evangeline stared wide-eyed at her friend. “I need you to be okay.”
Taking back her hand, she shrugged. “I will be.” Letting out a frustrated groan, she added, “Just give me twenty-four hours and I’ll be back to my old self.”
“And Beau?” Natasha asked, getting busy looking
down inside her food container.
Evangeline could feel the tension building in her shoulders. “What about him?”
“What are you going to do if he comes around here?”
“For his sake, I pray he doesn’t.”
23
“Where have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in two days.”
Those were the words John said to Beau as he walked into the apartment, but he was too tired to answer. Instead, he simply walked to the fridge, got out a beer, and walked into his room. He needed to be alone, and despite the two-hour drive back home, stuck with nothing but his thoughts, he hadn’t actually made any rational decisions or had a rational thought. All he could think about was how Vee had refused to see him, how her voice had sounded so hollow and flat. She had believed every single word Lisa had uttered. How in the hell was he supposed to get her to see sense?
There was a tap on his door, drawing him from his thoughts.
“Leave me alone,” he called, sucking back half of his beer.
Ignoring Beau’s request, John opened up the door but didn’t come in. “What’s going on, man?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
John stared at him for a long minute before disappearing back into the living room. He reappeared with two beers in his hand. Stepping just inside the room, he took a seat against the wall, holding one of the bottles out to Beau. The bastard was not going to give up and leave. With a snarl, he stood up and snatched the bottle away.
“Talk to me.”
Hesitant, resistant, he shook his head. Speaking out loud about the damage Lisa had caused would only make Evangeline’s rejection weep like the fresh wound that it was.
“Is it about Vee?”
Beau cursed but nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, what happened?”
Beau finished off the beer in his hand and started the other one. Then he told John everything that had happened. When he was done, John’s mouth was opening and closing like he wasn’t quite sure what he would say.
Eventually he said, “Fuck!”
With a nod, Beau said, “Yeah.”
