Something in the Way: A Forbidden Love Saga: The Complete Collection

by Hawkins, Jessica

  “I don’t care what lies ahead, how bumpy the road is about to get. I made you a promise, and I’m keeping it.” The longer we stood there, the more determined he looked. “It took me too long to say it, but now . . .” He moved his forehead against mine. “I can’t imagine not telling you every day that I love you so fucking much. I trust in us.”

  I worried it was too late for that. This wasn’t about trust or love anymore. I believed Manning thought we could make this work, but there was one thing Manning cared more about than me, and that was doing the right thing. That was why I’d lost him the first time. And the right thing for him was not letting his child grow up with a bad father the way Manning had—or without a father at all. “This is it. We’re over before we even began.”

  “No, Lake,” he said softly, shaking his head. “I . . .” He ran the tip of his nose along mine, his lips brushing my cheek. “I’ll find a way. Trust in me, in us.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, whispering. “I’ll find a way. I will.”

  I trembled with his loving words, with the sense of hope he’d finally found, even if it was too late. My hands were red, fisted against his chest, but I still couldn’t push him back. “There’s no way around this, Manning.”

  “What if you’re pregnant?” he asked.

  At that, I lost my breath and had to look away. A part of Manning could be growing inside me already, something nobody could take from me, not even Tiffany. After this week, I wanted it, but not like this. I had no choice but to live with the pain of losing Manning, but I could never have his child now. And I did have a choice there. “I can’t be pregnant,” I said.

  He put his hand against the wall, keeping me where I was. “You don’t know that.”

  “I can’t,” I repeated, shaking my head. For once, fate was on my side. What I’d thought was irreversible, actually wasn’t. “I won’t. I’ll take the morning-after pill, and if that’s not enough . . . I wouldn’t keep it.”

  “Don’t you fucking say that.” His entire body vibrated, but he wasn’t angry. He was pleading. I recognized a breaking heart when I saw it. “If you’re pregnant, you know I’ll tear down the universe to be with you.”

  I did know that, and I refused to get him that way. Maybe that was good enough for Tiffany, but I wanted Manning to have chosen me from the start—not because I’d trapped him into it. Manning, at his core, was a good man. And at my core, I loved him above all else. I could never ask him to leave his child, to not be there with Tiffany every step of the way. “Go home,” I told him. “Be with them.”

  “Lake.” He slid his hand under my hair, but I shied away from him and kept my eyes down. He didn’t belong to me, and he never had. “Don’t pull away now that I can touch you,” he murmured. “I don’t know how or when, but I’ll come back to you. You and I have a life here. I’ve seen it, and so have you.”

  On a dark beach over four years ago, Manning had made misguided sacrifices out of love. I hadn’t understood it then, but now I had to decide if I’d let Manning put himself through this. If he left Tiffany, she’d do everything in her power to hurt him—and she held all the power now. She had his baby. I could ask him to leave her and he would, but she’d turn him into the bad father he was already terrified of becoming.

  He was right. I’d seen a life here with him, but I didn’t anymore.

  I worked up the courage to look at him, my Manning.

  “I love you,” he said, tilting my head up by my chin to kiss my forehead, the bridge of my nose, my mouth. “I love your sweet watermelon lips, your unrelenting kindness, even to those who’ve hurt you, your strength to move here all by yourself.” He got to his knees, his head at my breasts. Kneeling before me, Manning took my waist. “I love this body, and the family it will give us. The sky seems dark now, but that’s how light shines through. I promise you, Lake, I will make this right.”

  I didn’t stop him. I let him hold me. I let him bury his face in my stomach. I could’ve stayed there the rest of my life listening to him tell me he loved me. I looked up at the ceiling to stem the tears I didn’t want him to see. He might take that as indecision, and it wasn’t. When I’d breathed through the urges to cry, I lowered my eyes and put my hands on his cheeks. I could’ve sworn I felt wetness there. “I love you, too,” I said. “But I can’t do this to you.”

  “Yes you can. It’s not like it was that night on the beach. I’m older now. Stronger. I know I’m not my father.”

  “She’ll take that baby from you, Manning. Can you live with knowing you’ll have no involvement in its life? That you won’t get to raise, love, and pick your baby up every morning and put your baby to sleep each night?”

  “I’ll find a way,” he repeated, even though he knew—he had to know—this was the only way.

  His eyes were red, tired. My heart split down the middle. It was just like Manning to try and carry the burden for us. He hadn’t asked for this baby, but if he couldn’t do right by it, it would kill him. I shook my head. “You need to be a good father,” I said. “And that child needs you. Tiffany hasn’t always done the right thing, but she didn’t deserve any of what we did to her this week.” I opened my mouth to end this, but nothing came. I couldn’t send him away. Words bubbled up and fizzled over and over, until I had to accept this wouldn’t get any less excruciating. I wavered, but I got it out. “It’s okay—I’m giving you permission to go.”

  “I don’t want permission,” he said, swallowing. “I want you. I love you. What about you?”

  I didn’t know. My heart was being surgically removed in the middle of a hotel room, and I felt each acute incision and snip. But I’d done this before and had come out the other side, so there had to be some way through it. The moment Tiffany had gotten pregnant, I’d lost a little part of Manning. A part she would forever own. I could never compete against a baby, and I shouldn’t have to. “I don’t want to be second best, and I don’t deserve it.” My voice broke, and I steadied it. “You know I don’t.”

  “You’ll never be second best, Lake. I never loved Tiffany a fraction of the amount I love you.”

  “I’m talking about the baby.”

  With that, defeat crossed his face. It hurt me more than it should’ve. I wanted to be mad, to make him suffer and tear out his heart like he had mine but he’d already suffered. His heart hurt, too. I didn’t want that for him. He was having a baby and it should’ve been the happiest news of his life.

  He reached into his pocket and showed me the mood ring. “I found this on your dresser. I was going to give it to you at the airport the way I’d planned to years ago, before I was arrested.”

  I took the ring and inspected it, though there wasn’t much to see. It didn’t change colors just by holding the band. “It was in your things from the courthouse,” I said. “I thought maybe . . . maybe it was for me.”

  “Maddy had one growing up. She loved jewelry. I got it off a woman in the bar that night we rode around in the truck.”

  I dropped my hand to my side. “I’m sorry I took it.”

  “I bought it for you,” he clarified. “I wanted you to have one like Maddy’s, since she’d loved it so much.”

  “Then I kept it safe for you,” I said and held it out for him. “But it’s not mine, and it never was.”

  “Keep it while I’m away. It’s my promise to you. I’ll be back. I’ll love you. I’ll make your apartment into our home. I’ll eat your Christmas dinners. I’ll be a father to your children.”

  I stopped myself from accepting his gift and taking the future I was owed. I wanted to ask him to stay and experience all the colors of the mood ring with me, to light me up when I was dark and live in rainbows when times were good. But I had to let that go, and he needed to let me go, so I said, “If you have a daughter, you can give it to her.”

  I’d never seen Manning cry, but he’d come close when he’d told me about Maddy in the truck years ago, and I could see he was close now. He hugged my stomach to his chest. “Don’t do this,
Lake. Remember what you tried to tell me all those years ago? Love is enough.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said quietly and tried to move, but he tightened his grip on me. “Manning, you have to let me go.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You have to.” I pried his fingers off, set the ring on the nightstand, and finished packing my bag while he watched. There wasn’t anything left to say.

  When I had everything, I put the duffel over my shoulder and faced him. He stood at the foot of the bed with bloodshot eyes, taking up all the space and air in the room. I wasn’t sure when I’d see him again. I couldn’t envision ever going back home now, not with what I’d have to face, so maybe this was it. My chest felt as if it were being drawn into itself like a corset to which Manning held the strings. I didn’t want to say goodbye. I wasn’t ready.

  He closed the space between us and cupped my chin like he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to, but I didn’t think I’d survive it. He wasn’t mine to kiss anyway, not that he ever had been.

  “Birdy,” he said.

  For the briefest moment, I was sixteen again, fighting my impulsiveness, choking back words I shouldn’t say, hiding my love for him. I looked away, and after a moment, turned and left the room.

  In the hallway, I couldn’t breathe. My chest constricted so hard, I was sure any moment it’d squeeze my heart right up into my throat. But it didn’t. The heart was a muscle, and it could be trained. With every injury, it got stronger. So I put one foot in front of the other and resisted the urge to turn back for the only man I’d ever truly love.

  Part II

  20

  Lake

  2003

  Stage lights flooded over the cast, and we took a synchronized bow. Despite being nearly blinded, I wanted to hold on to this feeling as long as I could. I wasn’t sure when I’d get it next. The audience’s applause was louder and longer than usual tonight. Maybe they sensed it, too, whatever was in the air. As a cast, we’d gone the extra mile, our emotions high knowing we only had a few nights until it was curtain for good.

  My castmate squeezed my hand. We took another bow, grinned at each other, and that was it.

  Backstage, we did the obligatory rounds, meeting fans, signing playbills, and holding conversations with castmates’ friends. When I saw two dozen roses headed in my direction, I knew instantly who was behind it.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, grinning.

  Corbin peeked around the flowers. “I can’t make it to closing night next week since I’ll be out of town on business. I didn’t want to miss seeing you one last time, though.”

  I took the bouquet and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  “You get better every time I see you up there.”

  “You watched the whole show?” I asked. “How many times is that now? Three?”

  He shrugged. “I just can’t believe you’re actually doing it.”

  “It’s just Off-Broadway, and I’m up there less than half an hour total.” I nudged him. “I hope you at least brought a date so you wouldn’t get bored.”

  “Not tonight. I thought maybe you and I could get a celebratory dinner.”

  “Sounds good. I’m starved. Want to say hi to everyone?”

  Sometimes I thought Corbin hung out backstage to meet my pretty castmates, but the truth was, they were usually the dumbstruck ones. Even in a world of trained actors and actresses, his charm shone through. He flustered both my male and female counterparts.

  After I’d dropped the flowers off in the dressing room I shared with some others, Corbin and I were listening in on a discussion with the director and some fans.

  I looked up just as a man in a suit approached us. “Sorry to interrupt, Carl,” he said.

  The show’s director turned. “Mike Galloway. Nice to see you.” They shook hands. “Coming to steal away one of my stars?”

  “Can’t I just sneak behind the curtain to give praise? Do I need another reason?” He winked at me. “Off-Broadway is the new Broadway, I hear.”

  Carl snorted. “Right. I’d tell you to leave us alone, but the show’s run its course anyway. Who you here for? Gina? Keith?”

  “No.” The man’s eyes were still on me. “Lake, right? Do you have a moment?”

  I glanced back at Corbin, mostly out of confusion, but Corbin must’ve thought I needed help. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Regarding?” he asked.

  “Apologies. I should’ve introduced myself first.” He stuck out his hand for me. “I’m Mike Galloway, a casting director from California. Mind if we talk in private?”

  My director tilted his head at me. “Well, go on, kid. Don’t you know who Mike Galloway is?”

  Admittedly, I didn’t. The name was familiar, maybe someone Roger or a castmate of mine had mentioned. Despite the fact that the rest of the world was obsessed with Hollywood, I hadn’t given it much attention. Here in New York, we performed. This was theater. We didn’t hide behind glitz and glam like they did in Los Angeles. Not to mention, Southern California continued to be a sore reminder of what could’ve been.

  I led Mike Galloway and Corbin to the dressing rooms. Mike didn’t bother looking around, and I got the feeling he’d been here before. “Have a seat,” he said to me, even though it was my room.

  Corbin and I exchanged a glance, but we sat. “What’s this about?” I asked.

  “Lake Kaplan.” He smiled, gliding his hand in front of him. “It’d look good in opening credits, wouldn’t it?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It’s just my name.”

  “Not anymore. Lake, this is the second time I’ve come to see the show, and I assure you it’s not because I think it’s any good.”

  “All the way from L.A.?” I asked. “Do you normally come to the theater looking for . . .” I sat back. “What are you looking for?”

  “You have a friend working as a PA on the new Marvel movie?” Mike asked.

  “Val?” Corbin and I asked at the same time. Val had left New York soon after the Twin Tower terrorist attacks. For one of the strongest, most resilient people I knew, Val had been shaken to the core by 9/11. She’d been wanting to break into Hollywood for some time, and that was the catalyst she’d needed to move. She’d been a production assistant on more than a few film crews but was still struggling to break in. I’d only spoken to her a few days ago, but she hadn’t mentioned any of this.

  “She gave your name to a colleague of mine who knew I was coming out here in search of talent. But you aren’t just talent, Miss Kaplan. You’re a star.”

  “I’m a supporting role, and a small one at that,” I deadpanned. “Plus, my vocals don’t compare to anyone else’s in the show—yet—and my footwork needs—”

  “That stuff’s not important for what I need.” He waved a hand. “Your director is notorious for overlooking star quality anyway. He always puts the good ones in the back, and that’s where I often find my hidden gems. You, Lake—you have a look that I’m after.”

  I touched the ends of my hair. “What?”

  He scratched his chin. “I’m casting a TV show in California, and I want you to come meet with us. I’ve shown your headshots to the directors and they’re very interested.”

  My gut reaction was a nervous giggle. Neither Corbin nor Mike laughed, and that made my bubbling laughter more embarrassing. Not only was Hollywood knocking on my door, but they wanted me to pursue a life in Los Angeles, the exact thing I’d run away from years ago? Why? I had a lot of work to do on my craft. My castmates had been at this since they could walk. I often felt like I was playing catch up with them. I’d worked hard and come a long way, but acting didn’t come naturally to me, and from most angles, I was still an amateur.

  “Do you have a business card?” Corbin asked.

  Mike took one out of his wallet and handed it to him. “I’m not here to say Lake has the part, but I can assure you, it’s promising.” He shifted his attention to me. “I’ve already spoken to your agent. You should have a me
ssage, or five, from June. Check your cell.”

  I just blinked at him. “I can’t afford a phone,” I said.

  “Your pager, then. Surely you’ve got one of those?”

  Between monthly rent and student loan payments, I rarely had much cash left over. My part didn’t pay well, and yet I’d devoted time to perfecting it that I probably should’ve spent making money. “I don't, and actually, flying out to Los Angeles would be financially difficult.”

  “We’ll handle the expenses, and I know this production is coming to an end. We can set up a meeting after closing night.”

  Corbin leaned his elbows on his knees. “What exactly is the part?”

  “Five twenty-somethings in California working in the arts. Think Friends meets Center Stage sprinkled with the issues of today.” He pulled at his chin, looking me over. “The parts I have in mind for you would depend on your demeanor and how you play off the rest of the cast. I need a bitchy blonde babe who’s always pulling strings behind the scenes. The other part is America’s sweetheart—adorable, sugary girl-next-door that every boy wants to marry.”

  I couldn’t help thinking of Tiffany in that moment. Where I stood in comparison to her was obvious, but I’d never consider myself as anyone’s sweetheart. “Are those the only two options?”

  “Your friend mentioned you have some family drama? She wouldn’t get into specifics, but she said it was worth asking about if you were comfortable.”

  “What does that have to do with it?” I asked. “I wouldn’t let it get in the way of my craft.”

  He laughed. “No, it’s not that. It can help. This is where we’re on the verge of something huge.” Mike hiked up his pant legs and sat on the coffee table across from me. “Reality television.”

  I tilted my head. “What?”

  “Survivor. The Bachelor. You’ve seen the craze over Paris Hilton and Jessica Simpson. The world wants to see beautiful Californians, and they crave a story—struggle, gossip, drama. This show rolls it all into one.” Mike shifted to Corbin. “Are you two dating?”