A Crazy Little Thing Called Love (Serendipitous Love Book 1)

by Christina C Jones

  “Really?” she asked, pulling back to look up at me. “So we’re good?”

  “Yes,” I said, nodding emphatically. “We’re good. Can I get to my work now?”

  She rolled her eyes, laughing as she shook her head. “Yeah. Go.”

  I got the hell out of that living room as fast as I could, and I didn’t even bother trying to finish my payroll. I took a shower, and got my ass in the bed. Between Simone and Leah, I was drained. No sooner than I closed my eyes, my phone chimed, in the tone I’d reserved for texts from Simone. I picked it up and unlocked the screen to read her message.

  “You busy? -Simone”

  “In the bed. About to go to sleep. What’s up babe?”

  I tensed as I waited for her response, expecting a snarky remark about Leah.

  “Nothing really. Just wanted to know if you were staying over tomorrow? - Simone”

  “I was planning to…”

  “Good! I found a recipe I want to try, if you’re down. -Simone”

  I cringed, then shook my head, laughing as I thought about the last disastrous recipe we’d “tried” together. Simone could cook just fine, until she got it in her head to try some crazy dish she’d found online.

  “Sure, Beautiful. I’m down.”

  “Yay! I’ll see you tomorrow! -Simone”

  “Can’t wait.”

  “Mm. The nasty things I would do to that man with a pot of warm chocolate…”

  I lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, only grinned as Vivienne stared out of my front window at Carter, who was stopped on the sidewalk across the street talking to Eddie. As if she suddenly remembered something, Viv stiffened, then shot a nervous glance at me over her shoulder. “Sorry Monie.”

  “For what?” I asked, leaning against the front counter with a little groan. “Carter is fair game, fantasize away. I’ve got a man… and wait, so do you! Put your tongue back in your mouth, girl!”

  Vivienne giggled, turning her gaze back to Carter, who was looking admittedly good in a dark-blue button-up and jeans. “Yeah, I have a man, and I have eyes too. The barber is fine. I could wrap my hands up in those locs and just—“

  “Viv!”

  “Hmm?” She gave me an innocent smile as she sat a box of truffles — the reason for her visit— on the counter and slid them across the surface to me. “Guilty Pleasures and Urban Grind unite to bring you…” — she drummed her fingers on the counter for fanfare — “White chocolate truffles, filled with espresso-infused milk chocolate.” Vivienne whipped the top of the box, showing me the beautifully hand-crafted treats.

  The combination had been my suggestion, after sharing a bottle of wine with Vivienne. We’d sat up half the night, swapping stories until we were half-asleep. Her voice of reason was one of the few things keeping me from going off on Roman about Leah again.

  “I’ve gotta get back over to the shop, but I wanted to bring you those. You and Roman check them out, let me know what you think, and then we can talk about a test run for the customers.”

  With that, she was out the door, nearly tripping over her own feet staring at Carter as she left. I put the top back on the truffles, deciding that I may as well go and take them to Roman then, since I wasn’t really busy at the shop.

  I must have… I don’t know, slept wrong or something, because my back was killing me as I headed out of Posh Petals and made my way to Urban Grind. I didn’t see Roman up front, or in the kitchen, so I headed for his office, which I entered after knocking to announce my presence.

  Roman was sitting at his desk, absorbed in something on his computer. He looked up when I came in, his face brightening into a smile. He motioned for me to come around the desk, and when I did, I dropped into his lap with a groan.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, concern filling his eyes as I snuggled against his chest, grunting as each little movement caused another twinge of pain in my back.

  I shook my head, leaning back to rest against his shoulder so I could see his face. “I don’t know. Slept wrong and hurt my back or something.”

  He tipped forward to place a short, sweet kiss against my lips. “Or your body is exhausted because you’ve been running yourself into the ground this week.”

  I avoided his eyes, but offered no rebuttal to his words. They were absolutely true, and there was nothing I could say to debate it. I’d done three weddings and an anniversary party over the weekend, completely overhauled my inventory system in the computer, and done a good amount of redecorating in the store. Several of my employees were college students, and I was trying to get the major work done while they still had their flexible summer schedules. Even with all hands on deck, it was a massive undertaking that left me ready to do nothing at the end of the day except pass out.

  “Well, it’s all done now, and I think I might take a few days off.”

  Roman pushed his hand into my hair, and I closed my eyes against the feeling of his fingers grazing my scalp. “Good,” he murmured against my lips. “You need them. You’ve been… off lately, even before you went all superhero flower woman this week. You sure you feel okay?”

  I playfully rolled my eyes, brushing him off even though I knew exactly what he meant. I’d been tired, and cranky, and just nauseous enough that I started wondering where my period was, even though I usually loved when it took it’s irregular time coming back my way. Evidenced by the fact we went through enough to start buying the economy package, Roman and I were pretty diligent about using condoms. There were rare “slip ups” — like the time on the beach, which had me worried— but for the most part, we wrapped things up. I didn’t mention it to Roman, but I’d been ready to go buy several boxes of pregnancy tests and a gallon of water when a trip to the bathroom doused those fears.

  The yucky feeling went away, but the fatigue came back. I worked through it to get Posh Petals turned around for the Fall, but morning had brought along the ache in my back, which three pain relievers had failed to even touch.

  “I’m fine, baby,” I assured him, even as a slight wave of dizziness buzzed in my head.

  Roman didn’t look convinced. “Can you use one of your days off to see your doctor?”

  “I do not need to go to the doctor, I need to sleep.”

  “Simone…” Roman lifted an eyebrow, and I got the distinct impression I was being chastised.

  “Fine, I’ll go to the doctor.”

  He smiled, then pressed his lips against mine. “Thank you, Beautiful. You understand that I just want you to be healthy, right?”

  “I do.”

  “So… will you go today?”

  I sucked my teeth, laughing as I sat up. “Now you’re pressing your luck, buddy. I’m not going anywhere but back to Posh Petals to finish up some paperwork before I go home for the night.”

  “Do you want me to walk you?” Roman asked, eyeing me skeptically as I stood, my face twisted in pain.

  “Not necessary, I can see my front door from your front door. I can manage it. And besides, you’re busy. I’ve got it.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, unless you’re gonna put me over your shoulder and carry me back to work.”

  He smiled. “Well…”

  “Bye Roman. I’m fine, I’ll see you tonight.” I carefully made my way to his door, trying not to look like I was in as much pain as I felt. When I made it back to my office at Posh Petals, I realized I’d totally forgotten to even mention the truffles. I gingerly sat down and slumped over my desk, overtaken by a sudden bout of cramps so strong they made me want to puke. I shook my head, wheeling myself over to the cabinet that held my mini-fridge. Tossing back three more pain relievers and half the bottle of water, I scooted back over to my desk and laid my head against the cool surface, keeping my eyes closed tight until the tension released, pain subsided, and I drifted off to sleep.

  When I opened my eyes again, seemingly just a few minutes later, I felt worse than before. My mouth was dry, my head was throbbing, and I felt like someone was
stabbing me through the lower abdomen with the thickest, dullest knife they could find. I slowly rolled myself back, not yet willing to raise my head or open my eyes and subject myself to the light.

  I lowered my head between my legs, hoping gravity would help the headache subside. It did, just a little, enough that I opened my eyes, squinting down at the floor.

  What the heck did I spill?

  A small puddle of dark liquid had formed in the place where my chair had been, and there was a trail leading to where I was currently stopped.

  Is that…blood?

  I pushed myself up from the chair, staring in horror at the puddle of blood where I’d been sitting. Reaching for the seat of my jeans, I pulled back a hand covered in the same dark liquid, and almost fainted at the sight. Why was there so much?

  Crazy assed psycho menstrual cycle.

  I glanced at the clock, and saw that a few hours, not a few minutes had passed since I returned from Urban Grind. I felt lightheaded, but I had to somehow clean myself up. I started toward the bathroom, but my legs suddenly felt like they were made of lead. I forced myself to move as nausea rushed over me. Another step, as pain blossomed in my back. One more step, and I was hurtling toward the floor as I descended into darkness.

  — & —

  Why the heck are there so many blankets on me?

  That was my first thought as I sluggishly opened my eyes, keeping them squinted against what I expected would be a harsh overhead light. Instead, I was met with the light from outside, filtered across Roman’s sleeping face through the blinds. Even in the dark, with him being asleep, there was worry etched into his handsome face.

  I had an IV hooked into my arm, and a clamp on my finger measuring my vital signs, but nothing else, so I assumed I wasn’t dying. But all of those damned blankets. I kicked most of them off of me until they bunched at the foot of the bed.

  “Roman.” I called out as loud as I could without yelling, but my throat was dry, and my voice cracked over the word. Still, he heard me somehow, and shot straight up, looking around frantically until his eyes focused on me. Something about the look in his eyes sent a fresh wave of melancholy over the already bleak air in the hospital room.

  He stood slowly, not saying anything as he walked up to the bed and squeezed onto it beside me, being mindful of the IV as he pulled me into his arms. Roman pulled my head against his chest, nuzzling his chin into my hair as he stroked my arm over and over.

  Very suddenly, a thought occurred to me. A crazy, ridiculous guess as to what had happened. My body tensed, and I started shaking my head.

  “Baby… don’t,” Roman said, keeping me clutched against him in an attempt to keep me calm, but I wiggled away from him so I could look in his face. His eyes were rimmed in red, and there was a droop to his shoulders that was very unlike the man I knew.

  “Roman.” I whimpered his name, wanting him to shake his head and assure me that what I was thinking was crazy. That’s not what he did. He averted his gaze, with a heavy sigh, and pulled me back against his chest as I began to sob. We laid like that for… I don’t know how long, before I felt dry, and empty, like I didn’t have any more tears left to shed.

  “Did they tell you anything?”

  I felt the slight shifting of his head against mine as he nodded. “The girl who was working the front of the store, Ashley, she found you passed out in your office. She rode in the ambulance with you, and called me. She told the doctor I was your husband.”

  Neither of us said anything for a while, and the sun was beginning to soak through the windows when I finally asked the question that had been burning in my mind for the last few hours. “How far along was I?”

  “Eight weeks.”

  Eight weeks…

  I gave a dry laugh. “The beach,” I said, biting my lip so hard to keep from breaking into sobs again that it was a miracle I didn’t draw blood. The weekend that solidified our relationship had culminated in the creation of a life that we would never see. A baby. My chance at the family I so desperately wanted, and I’d… lost it.

  Pushing away from Roman, I sat up, drawing my knees up to my chest. I hugged them, pulling them as tightly as I could as pain erupted again in my abdomen. Fresh tears sprang to my eyes as I felt Roman envelope me again. He pushed my hair back from my face and pressed a kiss against my temple, then my cheek, then my neck.

  Laying his head against mine, Roman put his mouth to my ear. “You’re gonna be okay, Beautiful. It’s okay.” He kissed my cheek again, then rested his head on my shoulder. When he lifted it again, his voice was more resolute. “We’re gonna be okay.”

  We?

  I turned to him, allowing him to brush the tears from my eyes with his thumbs before I spoke. “You wanted a baby?”

  “I…,” he paused, considering his words as he cupped my face in his hands. “Yes and no. I’ve thought about it… wanted it with you. Definitely not this soon, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t sting, knowing that it was there, and now it’s… just not.”

  His eyes were filled with such dejection that I couldn’t even hold his gaze. I brought a trembling hand up to cover my mouth. “I’m so sorry, Roman.”

  Genuine confusion crossed his face. “What? Sorry for what?”

  “I lost our baby. If I hadn’t been running around like a crazy person this week, not eating, and not getting enough sleep, and—”

  “Stop.” The authority in his voice made me do exactly that before I turned to him with blurry eyes. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. Even the doctor said that. Your vitals were fine, you were hydrated, you were healthy. There wasn’t anything you could have done differently, and I don’t want to ever hear you—”

  We both looked toward the door as it swung open, allowing two nurses into the room. Roman was quiet as they asked me questions about how I was feeling, and answered mine about what happened next. I halfway expected he would leave the room, or at least look away while they changed my stained bedclothes and undergarments, but he got up and helped, making the process go by a lot quicker.

  When were alone again, he got right back in the bed with me. “You hungry?”

  I shook my head. “I just wanna go home. Do you think the doctor will let me go early? The nurse said two days, but… I’ve gotta get out of here.”

  “I’ll see if I can find her. And hey… I meant what I was saying earlier, Beautiful. Please don’t blame yourself for this. Okay?”

  I nodded, but I didn’t feel any conviction behind it. It was easy enough to say I didn’t blame myself, but when a million thoughts about what I could have possibly done differently to make the undiscovered pregnancy viable, it was next to impossible to put into action.

  Roman pressed another kiss into the side of my head, then left me alone while he went off to look for my doctor to spring me out.

  — & —

  Roman was everything. As I lowered my head onto the pillow beside him, I wondered what in the world I could have possibly done in another life to gather up enough karma that I deserved a man like him.

  I was livid when I found out I couldn’t leave the hospital that same day, but Roman massaged my feet, fed me gourmet cupcakes, and kept the TV on a constant run of enough shitty reality TV to numb my senses. In the three weeks since I’d been discharged from the hospital, Roman saw to it that I got absolutely everything I needed to recover — physically, at least— from the miscarriage and subsequent D&C procedure.

  He provided a buffer through the unwanted, unwelcome, and ridiculously unsuccessful visit from my parents, who couldn’t stop fighting about my father’s latest affair long enough to actually check on me, which is what they claimed they were there for.

  Yeah, right.

  My mother came to remind me men were no good, and my dad came to make sure my mother “didn’t have any wolves sniffing up her behind.” The irony of that was… insane. Just like they were. They left without causing damage to anything except my nerves, but Roman still apologized profuse
ly for even calling them now that he saw for himself that they were clowns— and not even the funny kind.

  Eddie, Vivienne, and even Carter came by, on separate occasions. Eddie brought a bottle of bourbon and made me laugh, Vivienne brought chocolate and wine, sat in the bed and cried with me. Carter made a house call to give Roman a neglected, but much needed haircut while they sat in my living room and talked for hours. I lay in my bed, listening to the low hum of the two men’s voices until I fell asleep, grateful for my new friends.

  When he wasn’t with Zahra, or absolutely needed at Urban Grind, Roman was with me, talking, making me laugh, and just… doing everything he could to keep me from slipping into the darkness of depression. It felt… silly, almost, to be so distraught over a baby I hadn’t known about, planned, and certainly hadn’t needed, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Despite the fact that he wouldn’t hear a single word of blame from me, Roman was always willing to listen when I needed to talk through the pain. He validated my grief, and even shared some of his own, which made it even easier to open up to him.

  Not just about the baby. About everything. Over those few weeks, while I worked from home, our shared mourning helped us forge a bond that seemed almost supernatural for us to only have known each other four months. All of the hope, fear, triumph, and doubt I had in the world, I poured into him and he poured into me. It was intense, but not overwhelming. And it was beautiful. Little by little, as each day passed, I felt a little more unthawed, thanks to Roman.

  Now, he was in my bed passed out asleep in the middle of the afternoon. He was exhausted from juggling his time, and I really, really hated to wake him up, but it was almost time for him to go and pick up Zahra from school.

  I ran my hands over his handsome face, tracing the lines of his goatee with increasing pressure until he smiled, eyes still closed as he recognized my touch. “What’re you doing, Beautiful?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.