by Kaylee Ryan
If she’s been drinking, I’m sure she’s out for the night, but she’ll see it when she wakes up. She’ll know I was thinking about her.
I’m always thinking about her.
The next morning we’re up and out of the house by six. I don’t expect her to be up this early, but I fire off another message anyway.
* * *
Me: Morning, beautiful. Headed out on the lake. Love you.
* * *
I keep it simple. I’m well aware I’m freaking out. It’s new to me, this longing that I have for her. This deep-seated need to know that she’s okay. Not knowing how she is, not hearing from her, it’s hard. As in, my heart can’t take it.
“Put the damn phone down,” Nick grumbles. “Give the girl some room to breathe.”
“She’s breathing just fine.” I look over at Justin and he nods.
“Harper says she’s still sleeping.”
I sigh. She’s okay. That alone has my anxiety simmering, but it still doesn’t explain why she’s not returning my messages. “Thanks,” I croak.
“She’s got her hooks in you, huh?” Trevor asks, holding up a big-ass fishing hook.
“Yep.” I don’t bother denying it. I’m not ashamed of Addyson or how I feel about her. In fact, it’s the opposite. I want to shout it to the world that she’s mine.
The day drags on with me checking my phone incessantly. Still nothing from Addyson. Justin talked to Harper, and she told him they were headed out to go shopping for the day. That has been their plan. However, she’s still not responding to me. I know she’s okay, so now I’m getting pissed off. Why is she ghosting me? We talked earlier yesterday and everything was fine. We were laughing and joking; she told me she loved me. Now it’s crickets. Not a single reply, not even a fucking thumbs-up.
“Did Harper say anything?” I ask Justin.
“No, just that Addy had a bad day yesterday and she needed some retail therapy.”
“What? What happened? Can you call her and ask her?”
He’s already shaking his head. “No can do, brother. Harper already asked me not to ask her because she didn’t want to lie to me, and she promised Addy she wouldn’t say anything.”
“What the fuck?” I toss my half-eaten lunchmeat sandwich into the lake. My appetite is long gone. “I don’t get it,” I tell him. “We were fine. What could have happened between our phone call and a few hours?”
“I’m not sure, and Harper is tight-lipped.”
“Damn it.” Leaning forward in my chair, I rest my elbows on my knees and bury my hands in my hair.
“Are you really going to let some pussy get you down like this?” Trevor asks.
“That pussy is my fucking girlfriend,” I say. He can tell by my tone that he’s pissed me off, but that doesn’t stop him.
“You sure about that?” he contests.
“Yeah, how long have you known this one anyway? Is her pussy made of gold or something? She’s got you all up in knots.”
“A few months, and we”—I motion at my chest and then to where they’re sitting across from Justin and me—“are never talking about her pussy.”
Trevor raises his hands in defeat. “Just some food for thought, brother.”
“You don’t know her.”
“Do you?” Nick challenges.
Do I know her? “Hell, yes I do.” I know that her hair feels like silk. I know that when I kiss just below her ear, it drives her crazy. I know that her favorite color is teal, and she loves her cowboy boots. I know that she’s been hurt and that her heart is hesitant to trust. I know that my heart is hers. There isn’t a single doubt in my mind. So, yeah, I know her.
“Well, nothing you can do about it now. If she’s not answering your calls or messages you just have to wait until we get back into town,” Nick says.
Waiting.
I hate waiting.
My heart can’t take it. The worry that she’s changed her mind, that something I’ve said has spooked her… it’s the only explanation. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I swipe across the screen, and still nothing. I fire off another text.
* * *
Me: I love you, Addy. I don’t know what’s going on, but when I get home tomorrow,
I’m coming to you. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. Please talk to me.
* * *
Me: Please, baby.
* * *
Just as I’m putting my phone back in my pocket, it pings with a text. Everyone stops, all four of us as I look at the message.
* * *
Addyson: Text me when you are back in town. We need to talk.
* * *
“What’s it say?” Justin asks.
I read off the message and Trevor whistles. “Doesn’t sound good.”
He’s right. I have no idea what could have happened, but what I do know is that she’s in for a fight. I’m not giving up on us, not letting her go that easily.
* * *
Me: Your place or mine?
* * *
Addyson: Mine.
* * *
Me: I’ll come straight there.
* * *
I wait for her reply and get nothing. I want to tell the guys we’re packing up and heading home tonight, but I need to take some time to cool off. I’m pissed that she’s keeping me in the dark. Going to her now, with anger fresh in my veins, isn’t a good idea. We’ll both say things we’ll regret. My end game is to keep her, to make her my wife. Going in attitude blazing will not get me there. Of that I’m certain.
The entire drive home I kept my phone in my hand. I was hoping to hear from her, but I should have known better. About an hour away, I texted her letting her know I was on my way. I didn’t get a reply, but she’s expecting me, and if she’s not there, that’s fine. I’ll wait. We’re getting to the bottom of this today.
Pulling into her drive, I don’t see her car. I park my truck and thrum my fingers against the steering wheel, trying to stay calm. I’m still pissed off that she’s kept me in the dark, but the fear that something is going on with her, something real… like her doctor gave her bad news, that fear is palpable and overrides my anger. I just need to lay eyes on her, hold her, and assure her that no matter what it is, we’ve got this.
Together, we’ve got this.
* * *
Me: I’m at your place.
* * *
I stare at my phone willing her to reply. Minutes tick by with nothing. Where could she be? I turn on the radio to a local station to see if they mention any kind of accidents. My gut twists at the thought of something happening to her. Finally, after five long agonizing minutes, my phone alerts me to a text.
* * *
Addyson: Be there in five.
* * *
Dread. That’s what I feel. Dread. Never in my life has a woman told me we should talk and it ended on a good note. I’m not letting her walk away from me, though. We’ve come too far, my love too deep to just watch her go.
* * *
Me: Be safe.
* * *
Addyson: K.
* * *
I scan through the radio stations, but nothing holds my interest. Nothing but the rearview mirror as I watch for her to pull into her driveway seems to gain my attention. My mind races with what we need to talk about. If it’s not us, then what? Is she sick? Is she hurt? My heart seems to fall to the pit of my stomach. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. I will do everything in my power to make it better. No way am I losing her. Not now that I’ve finally found her.
Finally, I see her car, and I’m out of my truck and waiting to open her door for her. She’s visibly upset, and if the puffy redness of her eyes is any indication, she’s been crying. I don’t ask her what’s wrong. I don’t say a word. I simply open her door, and when she steps out of the car, I pull her into my body, hugging her tightly, silently praying that whatever it is, whatever she has to tell me, whatever news she has doesn’t take her away from me.
“We should
go inside,” she says, pushing away.
I reach for her hand, but she pulls away. Instead of questioning her, I follow behind like the lovesick fool I am. Inside her condo, she sets her things down on the entryway table, her bags on the floor, and makes her way into the living room. She reaches for a small white envelope on the table. Is it test results? My imagination is running wild with what could be in that little white package that has my girl so upset. I want to insist she tell me now, that she tell me what the news is so I can hold her. I’ll hold her all night and then tomorrow morning. I’ll hold her through whatever it is that has her so visibly upset. She won’t do this alone. I’ll make damn sure of it.
“Have a seat,” she says, curling her legs under her in the chair. It’s a deliberate move as I’ll have to sit on the couch. Away from her. “Today’s been an off day.”
“I can see that you’re upset. Can I hold you? I don’t care what it is. We’ll get through it. Together.”
“What exactly do you think is going on here, Lucas?”
“I assume something happened at the doctor’s on Friday. That you got bad news or something?”
She nods. “News, but it’s not bad. At least, I don’t think so. I was shocked at first, but it’s not something I can be upset about.”
I feel as though a ton of bricks has been lifted off my chest. She’s going to be okay. That’s all that matters. “Want to talk about it?”
“Not really, but that’s not the adult thing to do.” She pauses, collecting her thoughts I assume so I remain quiet, giving her the time that she needs. “I saw you Friday afternoon, when you were at my office.”
“You did? I was hoping to see you while I was there. I didn’t see you when I was in the lobby, and I had to get back. The guys were ready and waiting on me.”
“Right,” she scoffs. “Please stop with the lies, Lucas.”
What? “I’m not lying to you. I hoped to get to see you. Hell, if I had it my way, I’d spend every waking moment with you.”
“And your son?”
“My son?” I ask, puzzled.
“The one you’ve kept hidden from me. The one you hardly have anything to do with. What about him?”
“Addyson? What the hell are you talking about?”
“You ready to hear my news?” she asks, ignoring my question.
“Yes.” We can go back to the fact that she thinks I have a son. I don’t know where she would get that idea.
“I’m pregnant.”
It takes about three seconds for what she’s saying to sink in. Slowly, I stand and walk to where she’s sitting on the chair. I drop to my knees and place my hand on her belly. Tears prick my eyes.
Holy shit. I’m going to be a father.
“A baby,” I whisper. Lifting my head, my watery eyes collide with hers. “I love you, Addy. We made a baby.” I can’t contain my smile. Not that I want to.
“It appears that way,” she says, wiping her cheeks.
“You’re happy about it, that’s what you said, but you don’t look happy.” She looks pained if the sorrow in her tear-filled eyes is any indication.
“Happy that the man I love has been lying to me. That you skimp out on your responsibilities as a father now, how could I possibly think that this baby, that our baby will be any different?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I can feel the anger set in. This is the best fucking day of my life, and she’s coming off with this random “you have a kid” bullshit. “Please stop talking in circles and tell me what’s going on.”
“Nolan.” Her voice breaks. “He’s an amazing little boy. You’re missing out on that. On him.”
“Nolan?” I ask, confused. That’s when it hits me. “Addyson, Nolan is my nephew.”
“Yeah, okay.” She laughs humorlessly. “Are you really going to lie to my face? I saw you, Lucas. He even looks like you. He said his dad dropped him off. His dad that his mom, Annalyse, claims is not in his life.”
I stand up and reach for her hand, pulling her out of the chair. I then take the seat where she was sitting and pull her into my lap. She doesn’t fight me on it, but she’s stiff in my arms. “Listen to me,” I say, my lips next to her ear. “Nolan Oliver Forrester is my nephew. Annalyse Forrester is my sister. Kirk, that’s Nolan’s dad, he dropped him off and left. He called my sister at work telling her she had to deal with it.” She’s still stiff, but she’s not moving. “She called me asking if I would be able to pick him up and meet her at her place. She was in a meeting she couldn’t leave.” Still nothing so I keep going. “I don’t have a son, not unless this little one is a boy. And for the record, I don’t have a daughter either.” I wait patiently, my arms holding her close for her to speak.
“How am I supposed to believe you? He said his dad dropped him off, and you were there, and I’ve never seen you there before. You never called him Nolan,” she says. Her voice is sad, almost like she’s not fighting me. No, it’s more like she’s accepted it.
“My father’s middle name is Oliver, just like mine and Nolan’s. We’ve called him Ollie since he was a baby,” I explain. “I didn’t even put two and two together that you were Ollie’s speech therapist until Anna gave me the address. She’s never mentioned you by name, instead referring to you as his speech therapist, or Miss S. I should have asked, but it never occurred to me.”
That’s when I feel her entire body start to tremble.
“Shh, please don’t cry. It’s not good for you or for the baby.” She burrows into my chest. “It’s okay,” I assure her.
“No,” she sobs. “It’s not okay, Luke. It’s all too much.”
“What’s too much?” I ask gently. I’m trying to remain calm. Is having my baby too much? She said she was excited, but now with the tears, I’m at a loss.
She sits up, then stands and walks across the room. Her arms are crossed tightly across her chest. “This, it’s all too much. You say he’s your nephew, and I have no reason to not believe you. I immediately thought the worst of you. I’m broken, and you deserve better.”
“What I deserve is you,” I say. I fight the urge to go to her, but I grip the arms of the chair and stay where I am, giving her the space she’s seeking.
“Right,” she scoffs. “You need a girlfriend who jumps to conclusions. Shit, I’m going to screw this baby up.”
I stand, and in a few long strides, I’m standing before her. “Listen to me. You’ve been through so much, and I know what those other assholes put you through. It was a misunderstanding. No harm done. However, don’t you ever talk about the mother of my child that way.” I step closer, raising my hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “She’s beautiful and kind. She’s wicked smart and loyal. She’s my best friend and my heart.”
“Luke,” she breathes, tears falling down her cheeks.
“I once told her I would prove to her that I’m the difference. That I wouldn’t treat her as those before me had. That I would make it my mission in life to be what she needs. You know what the funny part of that is?”
She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers.
I drop to my knees and place my hand under her shirt over her belly. Looking up, I see her big brown eyes wet from tears but full of hope. “I wanted to be your difference, but it turns out you’re mine. You and our baby.”
“I’m so sorry,” she cries.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. Come here.” I stand back up and guide her to the couch. I sit, and she snuggles in next to me.
“I’ve made a mess of things.”
“No, you haven’t. This is our first fight. I’m sure it won’t be our last. What you have to remember is that I’d rather fight with you, than be without you. We’re a family.”
She sits up and turns to face me. “I have pictures.” She reaches out and snags the white envelope she was holding when I got here off the coffee table. “You can’t really tell, but it’s his or her first pictures.” She smiles through her tears.
My hands
tremble as I take the envelope from her. Carefully, I pull out the black and white photos. “Baby, I need some help. What am I looking at here?”
“This—” She points to a small black blob. “—is our baby.”
“Did you know?” I ask her. I stare at the grainy image trying to process that the little black blob is making me a father.
“No.” She shakes her head. “No clue. Friday was my yearly checkup and refill on my birth control. They always do a urine pregnancy test and it came back positive.”
“Shocked?” I ask her. I was initially as well, but the shock was quickly replaced with elation. I love this woman, and our baby. How could I not be happy about that?
“Very. But after a few minutes, the shock wore off and it was more sadness. I thought I was going to be doing this alone. And I can, I can do this alone.”
“I know you can, but you won’t be.” I lean over and kiss her lips. “This is our baby, and we’ll be raising her together.”
“Her?”
“Yep. I hope it’s a little girl who looks just like her momma.”
“Healthy. I just want him or her to be healthy.”
“Move in with me.”
“What?” She pulls back, shock evident on her face.
“Move in with me. I love you. I love this baby. If I had my way, I would have already moved you in. Let’s make it official.”
“Luke, you should think about what you’re saying.”
“I don’t need to think about it. I want you there. I don’t want to miss a minute of this. Not the pregnancy or the late-night feedings. I want all of it. I want all of you.”
She’s quiet for a few minutes. “You really are the difference.”
