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[2016] First Comes Love

Page 18

by Emily Goodwin


  But I don’t think I will.

  Not as I did before.

  She’s mad now. Tired, hormonal. Lauren is level-headed. Lauren is kind. Will she forgive me?

  If I tell her the truth, she’ll see everything in a different light. But open up about my asshole father … I’ve never said anything to anyone before. Not even Colin knows about the shit my dad put me through.

  Oh, fuck. Colin.

  I didn’t just lose the love of my life. I lost my best friend. Because Colin won’t forgive me for hurting his sister, and ultimately his niece. My mind flashes to the future, to holidays and birthdays. Will we have to do everything separately like a divorced couple?

  Stop. Lauren could still forgive me. But why should she? I’ll probably fuck up again. I don’t know how to be a dad. Maybe Ella is better off without me too. It hurts, thinking I won’t be in her life, but if it’s for the best, then that’s what I want.

  It’s been three days since I last saw Lauren, and I’m terrified that might have been the last. I know I’ll see her again, as in literally see her, but that’s not the same. I stay at the studio late that Wednesday night, later than I need to. Going home to my apartment by myself isn’t something I want to do. I stayed late at the studio Monday and Tuesday too, trying to keep busy.

  I called Lauren Monday, thinking she’d cool off and we’d make up after a day. But she didn’t answer. I texted her that night and didn’t get a reply. Tuesday came and passed with nothing, and today I’ve stared at my phone more than I looked at the photos I’m supposed to be editing. I’m broken without her, and I don’t know how to make things right.

  I die a little more each day that passes and I haven’t heard from her.

  Lauren has no obligation to be with me, to keep me informed. But she’d tell me if something was wrong with her or with Ella. Maybe? My fist comes down hard on the desk. Fuck. I don’t know.

  And Ella? She’s better off without me, because I’ll probably fuck up being a dad too. My heart hurts and I want to go to The Roadhouse tonight and drown my sorrows in a bottle of whiskey.

  I won’t, because that’s exactly what started this mess. My head drops and I’m suddenly so ashamed, so incredibly pissed at myself.

  I’ve become my father.

  The asshole who ran to the bar whenever shit hit the fan. Who spent more time on a barstool than at the dinner table with his family. He didn’t know how to be a father because he never tried. He never put effort into our relationship, didn’t give a shit about me.

  I was so fucking terrified of becoming him, I pushed Lauren away. And I don’t blame her. Really, I’m glad she did. Because what I did was wrong. What I did will never happen again. I will not be my father. I will not let Lauren down. I will not let Ella grow up without her daddy.

  I sit up and turn off my computer, chair scooting loudly as I stand. I’ve been in love with Lauren since the day we met, and there is no moving on from there. She’s been in my heart for years, and I don’t see her leaving anytime soon. Or ever. How can you move on when you can’t let go?

  I will do whatever it takes to win her back.

  I sit back on the couch only to get up again, too pissed and too restless to stay in one place. I’m mad at myself. I fucked things up. I lost the love of my life, and consequently lost being in my daughter’s life the way I want to. I grab my leather jacket and the keys to my bike and storm out the door.

  I peel out of the parking lot, feeling the anger melt off me as the wind and rain hits my face. The rain is coming down in sheets, but I ignore it. It’s almost like I deserve it for messing everything up.

  On autopilot, I head toward The Roadhouse. Fuck. I can’t go back to having that be my escape. I’m not going to be the dad that runs to the bar the minute shit hits the fan. I’m not going to be like my father.

  I twist the throttle, going a good thirty over the speed limit. Lightning flashes above me and I’m getting pissed all over again. I fucking blew it, and I’ve been so focused on how awful I feel, I didn’t even think about Lauren and how hard this must be for her too. I grit my teeth, not knowing how else to calm the fuck down. It hits me as I speed through a red light.

  Lauren.

  She’s all I need. I miss her, and right now I need her. I’ve never told anyone about my asshole father, never let on how much it hurt me when he walked out. That I’m terrified I’ll be a shitty dad like he was because it’s in my blood. Because I don’t know what a father is supposed to do.

  The more I think about it, the more enraged I become. Not just at the man who was supposed to be a dad, but at my mother. She shut me out when he left us. Buried herself in work. Left me to raise myself. I convinced the world—and myself most of the time—that it didn’t bother me, that the nights at home alone, heating up a shitty dinner in the microwave, and eating by myself at the empty kitchen table were fine.

  My mind flashes to Lauren, exhausted after work, sitting next to a highchair, feeding Ella. They’re alone.

  I’m not leaving them.

  I’m not abandoning my daughter.

  I’m never going to hurt Lauren again.

  The rain comes down harder, making it difficult to see. But I don’t stop. I let out a breath, thinking of Lauren.

  Her smile.

  Her lips.

  The way she sees the good in everything.

  Her smooth legs, wrapping around me.

  How good it feels when she’s holding me.

  Her.

  I let off the throttle, and the bike loses speed. My mind is on Lauren as I coast down, and I don’t notice it until it’s too late. Thank the fucking Lord I’m not going fast anymore. My tires slip on loose gravel. Time stops.

  Everything happens in slow motion, yet passes too quickly for me to react.

  I’m falling, body sideways just inches from the road. I hit the road. I’m skidding along, skin tearing, clothing ripping. I can’t stop. Can’t move. Can’t do anything but wait until it’s over and think of her.

  Her smile. Her lips. Her kiss.

  My vision starts to go black and pain takes over, deep inside my head. And I can’t help but think I will never feel those things again.

  Chapter 23

  LAUREN

  “YOU LOOK EXHAUSTED,” Julia says as we go into work Monday morning. “Did the shower yesterday wipe you out?”

  I force a smile. “Something like that.” Really, I was up all night crying. My heart is broken. It’s only been about twelve hours since I last saw Noah’s gorgeous face, and I miss him so much. So, so fucking much. Hell, I missed him this much only seconds after he walked out the door. It’s not the length of time passing between us, it’s knowing that this is how it’s going to be.

  Me. A single mom. A working mom. Trying to figure it all out on my own. I’m not the first to do it, and I certainly won’t be the last. But that doesn’t make me feel any better. And right now I’m not sure I can do it. I’m not sure I can provide everything for Ella.

  And really, that’s what matters.

  My broken heart can heal. I can learn to sleep alone again. But Ella … I can’t even think of her wanting, of her needing something I can’t get her without crying.

  I start the day, blaming the exhaustion on the pregnancy. The lie is bought with no question. The clock moves so slowly sometimes I swear it’s going backwards. But I keep pushing, because that’s all I can do. The current is against me, but I won’t drown.

  I can’t drown. I won’t drown. Because I have Ella.

  “Lauren,” Dr. Banfield calls when I walk past her office after going to the bathroom for the millionth time that day. “Any news from Purdue? I know letters are going out around this time.”

  The words are like a slap to the face and I can’t help the tears that spring to my eyes.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Dr. Banfield gets up from her desk. She’s an older woman with her eyes set on retirement. All her employees love her. “I honestly assumed you’d get in. You’re so s
mart and such a hard worker.”

  “I did get in,” I squeak out.

  Dr. Banfield raises an eyebrow. “So are those tears of joy?”

  My head falls and emotions take over, turning me into The Incredibly Pregnant Hulk. “I got in but can’t go because I got drunk and slept with my brother’s best friend and got pregnant and now he’s gone and I’ll be alone forever.” I have no control over myself at that point. I break down in tears.

  Dr. Banfield is a wise, older woman, but she’s not emotional by any means. Reserved at all times, she awkwardly hugs me then calls Julia into the office.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?” Julia asks, wrapping me in an embrace. I hiccup and sniff back my tears.

  “I got into vet school and can’t go because of Ella,” I say through tears.

  “Oh, honey.” Julia gives me another hug, then the three of us sit around Dr. Banfield’s desk. Julia gives me a tissue.

  “I went to school during a completely different time,” Dr. Banfield starts, trying to console me. “But there were parents in there with me. It’s possible.”

  “Thanks,” I say and wipe my eyes. Parents are different. Parents are plural.

  “What about Noah? Can’t he help?” Julia asks and suddenly I’m embarrassed. No, Noah can’t help because he’s not ready to be a dad, nor does he want to be. He made it quite clear when he missed our baby shower.

  “Maybe,” I mumble. “Purdue is hours away. I just don’t see how it’ll work.”

  “There’s always next year,” Julia offers. “You got in once, you could get in again.”

  I nod. “I could.”

  “And don’t rule out other schools,” Dr. Banfield adds. “You know I’m a fan of MSU.” She points to her degree on the wall. “And that’s a lot closer.”

  I nod again. Talking it out makes things seem so easy. My heart needs to believe it is that easy, because it can’t take any more pain. It’s beating for two right now. I have to protect it.

  But it’s not that easy. Ella will be older, but I’ll still have to find a way to pay for daycare and then find someone to help me in the evenings so I could study and do homework. Paying for daycare on my salary right now is damn near impossible; there is no way I could pay for daycare and school. Oh, and still squeeze in time to work. Because I’ll have to pay for shit somehow.

  I smile, tell my boss and my friend thank you regardless. Nobody likes a wallower, so I’ll wallow in sorrow at home by myself. Because there really is no way for me to go to vet school.

  I’ve been told that the best laid plans sometimes fail, but I think it goes farther than that. The more you plan, the more you try to get things just right, the more off course you go. And then the clear path you were counting on disappears beneath your feet and suddenly you’re alone in the forest, unable to see a way out.

  I get home from work Tuesday exhausted, sore, and sad. The temperature has dropped, and gray clouds have moved across the October sky. Not feeling like making dinner, I get a bowl of ice cream, a big glass of lemonade, and plop on the couch, crying as I eat.

  I miss Noah. I want him back. I want Ella to grow up with her father, and I want her father to be good. You can’t have your cake and eat it too, right?

  Life doesn’t work that way.

  Instead of watching one of my cherished Disney movies, I search Netflix for something more violent. Because right now I’m feeling like the fairytale endings are even more unrealistic than wild animals cleaning the house.

  My phone rings, and my heart jumps. Noah has called more than once, and I’ve watched his calls go to voicemail each time. I’m not strong enough to talk to him, not yet. If I hear his voice I’ll cave. And I can’t. I have to be strong for Ella.

  “Hello,” I say to my mother, more disappointed than relieved it wasn’t Noah calling.

  “Hey, honey. I didn’t hear from you yesterday. How are you feeling?”

  I open my mouth, wanting to tell my mom everything. She’ll come over and I’ll have a good cry session, and when she’s leaves I’ll feel better, even if it’s just for the night. “I’m fine,” I lie before I have time to think about it. Maybe I’m not ready to face the fact that Noah really isn’t coming back into my life the way I want him to. Saying it out loud makes it more real. “Just tired from work.”

  “Have you thought about cutting down on your hours yet?”

  “Uh…” Yeah. I had. And was going to, back when I thought I could count on Noah for financial support. I’m sure glad I dodged that bullet, even though it feels like it hit me. Right in the heart. “Yeah, I will soon. Everyone at work babies me.” I consider telling her about vet school too, but chose not to solely because I’m too tired to bring up those emotions. Again.

  I chat with my mom for a few more minutes, hating lying to her the whole time. I end up falling asleep on the couch and wake up stiff. A hot shower helps loosen my muscles, then I’m off to work again. We’re busy with surgeries and two walk-in emergencies Wednesday, and the day actually goes by pretty fast, thankfully. I’m limited in what I can do now, which often leads to boredom, and boredom leads to my mind wondering.

  I take the dogs to the dog park after work, leaving them there while I go grocery shopping. I keep myself busy and distracted enough that I don’t feel like I’m dying from a broken heart.

  I go to bed early, hoping I can sleep away some of the pain, but I’m woken by my phone ringing at eleven PM.

  It’s Colin.

  What the fuck? He rarely calls, let alone this late. My hand shakes when I pick up the phone, scared something happened to my family.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Lauren. Are you at home?”

  “Yes, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he says and hesitates.

  “Then why did you call and wake me up.”

  He inhales but doesn’t speak.

  “Colin!” I exclaim. If nothing is wrong, then I’m pissed for being woken up. “Are you drunk dialing me or something?”

  “I wish. Noah got in an accident.”

  It feels like I’ve been dunked in ice water. “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah. He’s pretty banged up and needed a few stitches, but he’ll be fine. I just took him home. He said you guys got in a fight and he didn’t think you’d come get him, but I know you. You could hate the guy and you’d still go, and you’d probably spend the night just to make sure he’s okay. That’s all he would say. What the hell did he do?”

  Tears run down my cheeks. I would go get him. I would stay and make sure he wasn’t in pain, make sure he knew how to clean and care for whatever injuries he had.

  “He’s just not ready to be a dad.” I take in a shaky breath. “Are you still with him?”

  “Yeah. I’m about ready to leave. He got a shot of morphine and is passed out.”

  “Stay there. I’m coming over.” I don’t have to think about it. Noah is hurt. I’m going to him.

  “Okay. Drive safe.”

  “I always do.”

  I hang up, and gather up everything I need in a mad run. I forget dog food, and run my pregnant ass back into the house, spilling kibble all over the floor in my haste. Then I’m speeding through the dark to get to Noah.

  The drive takes forever. I don’t even turn on the radio. Finally I pull into the parking lot, grab my bag and the dogs, and rush inside, texting Colin that I’m here to buzz me in.

  “You brought the dogs?” my brother asks as soon as we bustle through the door.

  “I’m leaving for work at seven. I kinda had to. Plus Noah likes them.” And now my heart is breaking all over again. Tears fill my eyes and I don’t want to cry in front of Colin. He’ll hate Noah for hurting me. Colin crouches down to greet the dogs while I run (okay…waddle at this point) through the apartment and into Noah’s room.

  It’s dark, and the first thing I see is rumpled sheets. I’m hit with the memory of the first time we made love. I have to bite my lip to keep from breaking down.

&nbs
p; “Noah?” I whisper, voice tight. “Are you awake?”

  I dig my phone out of my coat pocket and use it as a flashlight. He’s lying on his back, and shadows merge with bruises on his face. His shirt is off, and a blanket is pulled up to his chest. His left arm is bent, resting on his stomach. It’s wrapped in gauze.

  As a vet tech, I see a lot of nasty things. Infected wounds, horrible injuries…it doesn’t faze me. But seeing Noah like this makes my stomach hurt. Tears run down my cheeks. I wipe them away and gently kneel on the bed, bending over to kiss Noah. The second my lips touch his, my heart breaks into a million pieces.

  This is our last kiss.

  Noah takes a deep breath and his eyes flutter open for a split second. “Lauren,” he mumbles.

  “I’m here,” I say through my tears. I lace my fingers through his. “I’m here, Noah. It’s okay.”

  “Lauren,” he says again. “I’m sorry.”

  No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop from crying. I cover my mouth with my hand, hoping to muffle the sounds of sobbing enough from Colin. A few minutes pass and I’m able to get myself under control. I mop my face with the bottom of my pajama shirt, and then go back into the living room with Colin and the dogs.

  “Do you want me to stay?” Colin asks. I didn’t do a very good job covering up the fact I was crying, apparently.

  “No, it’s okay. Jenny probably wants you home.”

  “She’s not home; she got stuck doing a double.”

  “Oh, okay. You don’t need to stay. I’m gonna sit in there with him and make sure he’s okay, but I’ll probably fall asleep soon anyway.”

  Colin nods. “Are you two really done?”

  “I don’t know.” My voice breaks. “Probably.”

  “If that’s what you want,” Colin says and I know he’s confused since neither Noah or I offered an explanation. I don’t want to ruin Colin’s friendship.

  “It’s not what I want, it’s what I need. I don’t want to think I can count on him when really I can’t.”

  “I won’t tell you what to do,” Colin starts. “But I will say I’ve never seen Noah like that.”

 

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