by J. H. Croix
“I didn’t mean to ruin your fresh start,” he said, returning my eyeroll. “Plus, I knew you and was really glad to find you again.”
My heart felt split open at his words, and I instantly scolded myself. All he said was he was “really glad” to find me. Don’t read too much into it.
“You knew the me who liked to party and who thought being valedictorian was the best thing in life.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to point that out, but there I went.
“Do you want that life back though?”
I shook my head quickly.
“If there’s one thing I understand, it’s learning what matters in life.”
“So, it’s not a deal breaker?”
Once again, he didn’t address my question. “We all have stuff.”
“A major mental health diagnosis and a history of car theft may be more than the average stuff,” I said wryly.
“That’s not the problem.”
Okay, so there was a problem. Well, I knew there was a problem, I just didn’t know how major the problem was for Ty.
“How did you find out?” I finally asked.
“My father looked you up and told me.” Bitterness chased through his eyes. “He can be an ass. I’m sorry he did that, but I’m not sorry I know.” He paused and looked down at his lap, long enough for my anxiety to start churning in my chest again.
When his eyes lifted again, I wasn’t sure how to read what I saw there. “I know you’re not like the guy who caused my sister’s accident, but it hit close to home. After watching my parents’ mess of a marriage, trust doesn’t come easy for me.”
His words came out with quiet deliberateness.
I swallowed through the thick knot in my throat and blinked back the tears threatening. When I chanced a look in his eyes, he was watching me intently. His next words went through me like a cold knife.
“The problem is you didn’t trust me to tell me.” His shoulders rose and fell with a slow breath. “It wouldn’t even matter if I didn’t think I loved you.”
Pausing again, he leaned his head down, running his hands swiftly through his hair in a frustrated gesture. When he looked up again, my stomach plummeted as if I’d just fallen from a great height. He’d just told me he thought he loved me, and I couldn’t even enjoy it.
“I need some time.”
I cut in. “Ty—”
He shook his head, his gaze disappointed. Or, at least, that’s what I thought. I fancied myself an expert at knowing when I’d disappointed someone.
“If you think this has anything to do with anything other than that you didn’t trust me to be honest, it doesn’t. I don’t care about all the details, but it really fucking matters that you didn’t trust me.” He kicked the sheets off his legs and stood from the bed swiftly. I was frozen in place, my hands curling tighter into the sheets as I watched him yank his clothes on.
When he looked down at me, the tears felt locked in my chest. “I’ve known for days. I thought I could ignore it. If we were just hooking up, maybe I could. But you mean more than that, enough that it burns to know you don’t trust me. Were you ever planning to tell me?”
I shrugged because I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I’m sorry,” I whispered through my aching throat.
“I know you are, but I think you need to figure something out before you can really be with someone.”
Blinking hard, I stared up at him. “What?”
“You make a big deal about having Bipolar Disorder, and I think you think it’s this huge thing that would turn people off. It’s not. It’s not at all. I couldn’t fucking care less about that, but you have to be honest. That is a deal breaker for me.”
26
Ty
If only I could’ve persuaded myself that I didn't miss Belle. That was impossible. The job I loved now felt like playing a game of hide and seek. Belle and I seemed caught in an unwilling game of avoidance, while the desire to see her had me stealing small glances of her whenever I could.
A few days after I told Belle I needed a break, I was passing through the kitchen at Speakeasy and my gaze was drawn to her as if she were my own personal lodestone. She was busy doing something, but then she was always on the move at work. My eyes landed on the back of her neck. I wanted to cross the kitchen swiftly and drop my head to kiss her there. I wanted to peel her shirt down and kiss her tattoo. My memory called up the scent of her instantly—musky and often with a hint of sugar. I forced my eyes away and left. My shift was over, and I didn't need to linger.
At home a little while later, I drained a beer and tossed the empty bottle in the recycling bin under the sink. I flung myself on my couch, idly turning on the television and telling myself a little distraction would help. Newsflash: it didn't. Avoiding Belle wasn't helping, and I missed her so much that I ached. It was almost a physical experience with my heart sore, and my gut tight. I gave up and went to bed, tossing and turning and reaching for her in the night.
The following morning when my phone rang, I snatched at it, reflexively looking at the screen and pointlessly hoping to see Belle’s name appear there. It didn't, but I was surprised to see my mother calling. We didn't talk too often. I slid my thumb across the screen.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, Ty,” she replied. “How are you?”
“Fine,” I lied. “You?”
“Uh, well, I've adjusted to Jess being gone.” She laughed dryly. “I don't call her every day now. You know I worry about her, but I'm glad she got into that graduate program, and I'm grateful you two are near each other.”
“She seems to be doing well,” I offered. “How are things at home?”
“Well, I've been busy.” She paused, and I sensed she wanted to say something. We tended to hew to the superficial in our conversations, so I was curious. “Ty, I'll just get right to it. Perhaps I'm nosing into things, but your father mentioned to me you were seeing someone, and he further mentioned he had looked into her background. I'm sorry he did that.”
I gritted my teeth, breathing through the sharp pain in my heart. She continued. “It's nothing I didn't expect. I know he wouldn't have done that if he didn't think you cared about her. I hope you're not letting that get in the way.”
I sighed, leaning my head back and staring at the ceiling before lowering my gaze to look out the windows. The landscape was blurred with the rain, which suited my mood.
“Mom, it's not what dad thinks. Belle has Bipolar Disorder. The car thing happened when she was in a manic phase. We're taking a break. Not because of that, but because she didn't tell me.”
“Didn't tell you what?” my mother prompted.
“Well, she didn't tell me about getting arrested for stealing a car. Trust is an issue for me. I'm sure you can guess why.”
My mother was quiet for several long beats before speaking. “Of course, I understand why. Your father and I don't exactly have a healthy relationship. I know you don't understand why I’ve stayed, and maybe someday I'll leave. All I can say is it was too much for me to try to tear things apart after your sister's accident. If you love this Belle, give her a chance.”
I absorbed my mother's words, not even sure how to respond at first. Clearing my throat, I replied, “I'll try.”
“I hope you will. You always were a kind boy. Even if we never talked about it, I knew you never intended to get serious with anyone. It's not worth holding onto resentment over something you had no control over.”
I wasn't quite sure what she meant, but I sensed she was referring to my sister's accident. Although my mother spent years worrying over Jess, she’d never shown a hint of resentment.
As if she could read my thoughts, my mother commented, “I used to, but I moved on. I'm sure if your sister hadn't survived, I might feel differently. Clinging to anger never helps anything. Whether it's this girl, or another. Don't be afraid.”
While my mother’s words rang like a gong in my thoughts, she deftly moved the conversation onto more superficial ma
tters after that. After we ended the call and seconds after I set the phone down, it rang again. This time it was my sister.
Bemused, I answered. “Hey, Jess. It's family morning. Mom just called.”
“Ah. She told me.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, even though I already knew her answer.
“About Belle.”
I sighed, wondering what to tell Jess.
“What's the real story? Because I know Belle's not a criminal, even if she did steal a car.” Jess snorted at that, and I could imagine her nose wrinkling.
I quickly summarized, wondering in the back of my mind if I was violating Belle’s privacy. But this seemed the better option than having Jess think she stole a car for the fun of it.
“So, that makes sense,” Jess said.
“It does?”
“I said it makes sense, so it does,” she repeated, her tone carrying a hint of annoyance.
I realized I'd said the very thing to Belle when she explained the series of events.
“How are things with you and Belle?”
Fuck. I didn’t need to try to explain myself to Jess, but there was no way to avoid it.
“I told her I needed a break,” I finally said.
“Why?”
“Because she lied to me about this. She didn't tell me what happened. I can't deal with that. You, of all people, should understand.”
“Did she actually lie?” Jess pressed. “Or, did she just not tell you?”
“There's lying by commission and by omission,” I muttered. “She didn't tell me.”
“Given how you responded, maybe she was worried about your reaction. You've gone and proved her right on that account,” Jess snapped. “How do you feel about her?”
My heart gave an achy thump, and I gritted my teeth. I decided to tell my sister the truth. “I think I love her.”
“Well, then, don't be stupid.”
“Jess, I’m sure even you can agree it's pretty crazy I’d end up falling for a girl who stole a car. You almost died because of someone who stole a car.”
She cut in swiftly. “No, I almost died because the guy was drunk and ran into us. Belle is nothing like that man and you know it.”
“Jess—” I began again.
She didn’t let me go any further. “Don't be stupid. Don't ruin the best thing you found. I saw you with her. I knew you were falling for her. Think about it. If this is what you're going to do, you might as well just plan to spend the rest of your life alone. I get being upset with her, but at least give her a chance if you love her.”
27
Belle
“That’s weird,” I murmured to myself as I checked my phone calendar once more.
I scrolled back to the month before, checking to confirm when my last period was. “It’s got to be a mistake.”
I was home one night after work, and I was just now discovering I was late. For my period, that is. I was remarkably regular. I’d had a habit for years of marking it in my calendar on my phone whenever I got my period. I was late, for sure.
Lowering my hand, I swallowed, and my belly did a nervous revolution in my stomach. Ty and I had used condoms every time. My mind picked through my recollections. The problem was, every encounter with Ty was hot, like immolate-my-brain-cells hot. I knew we’d waited until the last second to deal with the condom more than once.
I was alone in my apartment, and I stood abruptly, walking in a tight circle around my living room. I knew I couldn’t wait to figure this out until morning, so I grabbed my purse. A few minutes later when I pulled up to a jerking stop in front of the small shopping strip with the drugstore, I realized they were closed. Colebury wasn’t Burlington where things tended to be open later. I aimed my car toward Montpelier. Maybe, just maybe, they would have a drugstore open at this hour.
I forced myself to use cruise control so I didn’t speed. I tried to listen to music as a distraction, but it was impossible to keep my thoughts from running laps in my mind. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the open drugstore in a small shopping area. I dashed in, inexplicably buying three pregnancy tests. Just to make sure.
Roughly a half an hour later, I was back in my apartment, staring at the little stick I needed to put under my pee. I was almost afraid to do it, but I knew my anxiety was going to spiral if I didn’t get an answer. Until then, I was panicking about the unknown.
A few minutes later, I had scrambled up the nerve and peed on two out of three sticks. That had taken a little maneuvering, but I pulled it off. Matters had been helped by the fact that I really had to pee.
I waited, forcing myself to walk out of the bathroom and pace in the living room. When I returned to the bathroom and saw both tests with distinct blue lines, I was completely frozen for a minute before I clapped my hands over my mouth when I almost screeched aloud. Although my elderly landlady didn’t have the best hearing, I didn’t want to startle her by screaming late at night.
Oh, fuck. I was pregnant. There was absolutely no doubt who the father was. I didn’t know what the hell to do.
Ty had worked an evening shift tonight, and we’d hardly spoken since he broke things off. I was beyond relieved I had time to completely panic all by myself. Because I didn’t think I could hide this from him, and I didn’t know what to do.
The following morning, I woke early. I hadn’t slept well, not even a little. I probably maybe got one full hour of sleep. Coffee at the Busy Bean was in order.
After a shower, I got dressed and blow dried my hair. Not because I was styling it, but because it was just chilly enough out that I didn’t want to get cold on my short walk down there.
A little while later, I pushed through the door to the café and the bell above the door gave a cheery little jingle. I was surprised to see Zara at the register behind the counter. Usually, it was one of the baristas.
She looked a little tired, and I felt a spurt of kinship.
“Morning,” she said, offering me a quick smile. “Coffee?”
I opened my mouth to order a coffee and stuttered on my own words. I slammed my mouth shut and then said, “I guess I’ll have some herbal tea. What kind do you have?”
Zara regarded me quietly, and one dark brow rose. “Tea?” She paused, glancing to the side. “We don’t even have it on the menu, but we have some just in case people ask. Let’s see, we have raspberry tea, lemon tea, and a few others.” I felt my cheeks get hot. “Is everything okay?” she pressed.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurted out.
Zara met my announcement with a glance at her watch. “Let’s get you some tea, and I’ll sit with you,” she said when she looked back at me. “It’s only six, and Roderick’s busy baking in the back. We don’t get too many customers at this hour.”
Next thing I knew, Zara was looking at me across a table moments later after prepping me a cup of tea and some coffee for herself. “You seem surprised,” she commented.
“Well, I am. Trust me, this was not planned, and I’m totally freaking out. Is it that obvious?”
Her eyes were warm and understanding. “It isn’t obvious that you’re pregnant, just that you’re freaking out. I might have some experience with unplanned pregnancy,” she said dryly.
“Oh,” I said slowly, recalling the story of Zara’s secret when she first got pregnant.
Zara gave me a rueful smile. “Yep. Best thing that ever happened to me. But I didn’t know it would turn out that way at first.”
“I’m definitely freaking out,” I said, taking a sip of my tea.
I stared down at the mug, a strange feeling of anticipation tightening in my chest. The fact that I’d even thought about whether or not I should have coffee or tea made me wonder if my subconscious already had a feeling about this. If I wasn’t going to keep the baby, why would I even care if I had coffee?
Lifting my eyes, I met her understanding gaze. “What do you want to do?” she asked. Blessedly, she gave me a moment while she took a swallow of her coffee.
“I think if you had asked me yesterday morning if I found out I was accidentally pregnant, I probably would’ve told you that I thought I wouldn’t plan on keeping it. I don’t know what I want to do, but then maybe I do because I got herbal tea. Which totally isn’t waking me up.” I cast a glare at my tea, and Zara chuckled.
She took another swallow of her coffee, drumming her fingertips on the table after she set her mug down. “I suppose I had a similar view. I definitely didn’t expect to get pregnant, and I couldn’t find Dave. I was surprised at how quickly I knew I wanted to have Nicole though. Even when I didn’t know she would be a girl, and when I didn’t know she would practically be the spitting image of her father. Although, he swears she has my glare.”
Zara rolled her eyes at that, and I managed to laugh. We fell quiet, and I took another sip of my tea, thinking I was probably going to get a headache because I wasn’t going to get enough caffeine. I thought about the way Dave looked at Zara when I saw them together and experienced a sharp burning sensation over my heart. It almost stung, and I unconsciously rubbed my knuckles over it.
I wanted something like that—a man who was totally smitten with me, even after babies and toddlers and the messiness that could come along with them.
“I’m assuming you know who the father is,” she said quietly.
I looked over, nodding quickly. “I’ve only had sex with one guy in more than a year—Ty. We’ve always used condoms, but things got pretty hot and heavy at times.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
That panic I’d been trying to hold at bay knotted tightly inside my chest as I looked over at her. I took a gulp of tea, closing my eyes and taking a breath after I swallowed.
Opening them, I took another breath before answering, “I think I have to, but he broke it off. What do you think I should do?”
