Broken Course

by Aly Martinez

  I DECIDED weeks ago that I was going to propose to Sarah. It never included a beach or her getting sick, but I knew I was going to do it. I’ve proposed in Spanish no less than twenty times since I made the decision. I proposed over breakfast when the light from the window twinkled in her ocean-blue eyes. I proposed on a random night after dinner when she got frustrated and began cussing because she couldn’t find the words to make me understand how we might benefit from time spent apart. I proposed in the middle of a heated game of Trivial Pursuit right before she cheated so I couldn’t get my final pie piece. I even once proposed in the middle of sex as I emptied myself inside her. But up until now, I’ve never had the balls to say it in English.

  "Sarah Kate Erickson, will you marry me?"

  She sucks in a deep breath but remains silent in my arms.

  Asking a woman to marry you is terrifying, but I didn’t exactly go into this with visions of her screaming yes from the mountaintops. I knew this was going to be a hard sell. I also knew that I wouldn’t take no for an answer. We might be taking up residence on this square foot of the beach because I’m not budging until she agrees to be my wife.

  "We’re right together. You know it just as much as I do," I say, hoping to convince her, but she only continues to cry. "Ángel, say something."

  "I don’t know what to say," she tells my chest.

  "Start with what part of this has you all worked up. Are you excited, nervous, scared?" I prompt as she begins to wiggle out of my arms

  "What if I break you like I did Brett? What if that’s, like, my curse—I ruin men."

  "And you think not marrying me will make me any less ruined? Sarah, if something happened to us, I would never be the same again, ring or not."

  "This is a big commitment," she says, looking down at her feet.

  "No. This is just us showing our friends and family how committed we already are. Tell me you can imagine a day where you don’t love me. If you can envision that, then I’ll let this go. Otherwise, I’m not leaving this beach without a yes."

  Her eyes bounce around the night sky. I know she’s trying to work this out in her head, but Sarah doesn’t exactly have the best track record in that department. She’s going to make this into something dramatic and work herself into an over-the-top frenzy.

  "Just listen to me—" I start to talk her down, but before I get all the words out, she renders them useless.

  "Yes," she rushes out.

  "Yes?" I question because I was definitely not expecting it to be that easy.

  "I’m really scared, but you’re right. We’re better at this life thing together." She tosses me a tentative smile.

  "Yes?" I repeat one more time just to make sure I’m not hearing things.

  "Sí." She shrugs and starts laughing around the tears still flowing from her eyes.

  I instantly take her mouth in a hard kiss. "Give me your hand." I reluctantly pull away long enough to retrieve the ring from my pocket. I swiftly slide the oversized ring onto her finger as if it could prevent her from changing her mind.

  "Leo!" She gasps, running her fingers over the large, round diamond and down over the blue topaz stones I had embedded in the band itself. It was the closest thing to baby blue I could find. "It’s gorgeous."

  "Just like you," I respond, only vaguely aware of how cliché it sounds.

  "Are you sure about this? I mean, like, really, really sure?" she asks, looking up at me nervously, causing me to begin laughing all over again.

  "I was ready to set up camp on this beach like Tom Hanks in Cast Away until you said yes. So I can say with absolute certainty that I’m ready for this."

  "Shit. That would’ve made me Wilson." She sniffles.

  "You have better hair." I smile wide, unable to wipe it from my face.

  "I’m not going to lie, Leo. I’m glad that you are so optimistic about this because I’m really fucking worried." She pauses and begins inspecting her ring. "But I’m really fucking happy too."

  "We’re going to be amazing, Sarah. I can feel it. Now, come on. Let’s go upstairs. Suddenly, I feel ready for something else too."

  "No, wait. I have to call Emma and Casey. They are going to flip. Give me your phone. Let’s text them a picture of the ring." She begins wiping the mascara from under her eyes. I watch as she tries to capture the perfect picture of her ring using only the flash on my phone as light.

  A half hour later, Sarah and I consummate our engagement in the hotel shower. My phone vibrates its way off the counter with incoming messages from not only Emma and Casey, but also Erica. However, as I bury myself in the woman who will forever be my wife, they all go unanswered.

  THE MORNING after Leo proposed, we immediately started talking about getting married. He wasn’t keen on the idea of a long engagement. And while I may have been hesitant at first, once that ring was on my finger, I couldn’t wait to become Mrs. James. For the first time since the accident, everything actually felt right—including the imperfections in our relationship.

  Leo and I decided to have a small ceremony in a few weeks. Just something intimate with our closest friends in attendance. Originally, he just wanted to rush to the courthouse as soon as we got back. That was until I reminded him that Erica would probably murder him in his sleep if she didn’t get to come to his wedding. He quickly agreed, and we sat down to set a date around his schedule.

  We went over our finances on the plane ride home. It was really important to me to help contribute to our new life together. When Leo broke down his monthly bills for me, it became blindingly obvious that he made a hell of a lot more money than I did. I would have been lucky if I could even cover our electric and cell phone bills every month. I still had some money from the wreck, but it was dwindling quickly, and with overhead like Leo’s, it wasn’t going to get us far. I got panicky at the idea of depending on him for everything, but he squashed those fears by telling me that, by accepting his proposal, I had just signed on for a twenty-four-seven job at Guardian. I began to relax as I worked out the math of my new paycheck in my head while Leo laughed beside me.

  The day we got back from Florida, Leo hired movers. I thought his head was going to explode when they told him it would be a few days before they could add us to their schedule. I giggled as he marched to my bedroom and dumped all my underwear into a box, mumbling something about how "home is where the panties reside." He also confiscated my keys so that I had to stay at his apartment until the move was final. He could have just asked. It’s not like I would have argued, but it was more entertaining watching him try to force me to stay with him.

  When the movers finally came, it didn’t take long to empty my apartment since I didn’t have much to take with me. Leo has a house full of furniture, so we donated most of mine to the Building Foundations’s yard sale. They were more than appreciative.

  "Leo, where did they put the stuff from my bathroom?" I ask, walking into our room just as the last mover leaves.

  "I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess the bathroom? But come here. I have something for you."

  "Mmm. Is it something new or something hard?" I ask seductively, swaying my hips as I walk toward him.

  "Well, first, it’s something new. Then it’s something hard." He pulls me against his chest and presses his hips into mine. Walking backwards, he scoops up a bag next to the bed then leads me into the bathroom.

  "So, now that we are living together—"

  "And getting married," I add with a huge smile.

  "And getting married," he confirms, "there are a few things you should know that I’m not willing to share." He pulls out a rectangular box from the bag. "This is your very own Kindle. No more borrowing mine. I swear, Sarah, I opened it the other day and there was a naked man on the cover of nearly every book in my library."

  I let out a quiet laugh. He’s not wrong. I’ve been reading a lot more recently, and every single day, Casey sends me a new recommendation. It’s not my fault they all have half-dressed men on the c
overs. Okay, fine, I might buy them exactly for that reason.

  "Well, you didn’t have to do that. But thank you. I’ll put it to good use." I give him a quick kiss and throw in an ass grope, well…just because I can.

  "Secondly,"—he opens the bathroom closet, revealing a shelf full of my body wash—"you stink. Take a shower."

  "Excuse me?" I cross my arms over my chest.

  "I know you ran out of body wash while we were in Florida, but you are not allowed to use mine anymore. You smell like me…and I hate it." He gives me a serious look but returns the ass grope.

  "I like the way you smell." I make a show of sniffing his shirt, but he ignores me.

  "And lastly, here are the forms from the bank I need you to fill out in order to add you to my checking account."

  "Wait. Already? Shouldn’t we wait until we actually get married?"

  "Nope. Because I’m not paying you anymore. And I’m assuming you’ll need money for groceries and shit." He releases me and digs back through the bag.

  "I have money, Leo. But the hell you aren’t paying me anymore."

  "Joint account, Sarah. It’s our money now. It seems like a waste of time to write you a check just to deposit it right back into our account."

  "I don’t know, Leo."

  "Just fill them out," he orders before revealing a stack of bridal magazines from the bag. "Here. I dog-eared the pages I liked."

  "Um…why are you reading bridal magazines?" I ask confused.

  He cocks his head. "Um…because we’re getting married."

  I have to bite my lip to force back the laugh that is dangerously close to escaping. "Well, okay, then." I continue to chew on my lip.

  "I made a few notes too. According to the quiz, you’re a rustic bride, so I took that into consideration with my preferences."

  When he winks, I completely lose it.

  I burst into a fit of laughter, keeping myself from toppling over by grabbing his arm. Leo watches me curiously while I try to collect myself. He doesn’t say anything, but it’s obvious that he’s trying to suppress his own smile. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss his nose.

  "You are an amazing man, Leo James. I had no idea wedding planning was part of your repertoire."

  "If it gets you down that aisle with the bare minimum amount of panic attacks, wedding planning can be my main priority," he answers, rubbing his scruff against my cheek.

  "I love you," I whisper.

  "I love you too, ángel." He sucks in a deep, content breath. "Now, get in the shower." He reaches out, snagging one of the new bottles of my body wash and all but shoves me into the shower fully dressed.

  "WHERE’S LEO?" I ask while wringing out my freshly washed hair with a towel.

  "One of the new guys had an issue with a client, so he went to talk to him," Johnson responds from behind the desk in the security room.

  "Hey, thanks for helping the movers out earlier. I was just about to make a late lunch. You hungry?" I drape the towel over my shoulder.

  "I could go for some food." He smiles. "Hey, I need to make a few phone calls. You think you can listen out for the buzzer? Leo has a potential client coming up in a little while. I told him I’d meet with her if he wasn’t back yet."

  "Yeah, no problem. Chicken salad work for you?"

  He gives me a thumbs-up as he lifts the phone to his ear.

  A few minutes later, I’m sobbing my way through chopping an onion when the buzzer for the door goes off. I take a quick peek at the security monitor to find a woman in a business suit carrying a small leather briefcase. I press the button allowing her entrance to the building. Then I wash my hands and drag my still-damp hair up into a ponytail. Just as I swipe my fingers under my eyes, I hear her knock at the door.

  "Hi. I’m looking for Leo James," she says professionally as soon as I open the door.

  "Come on in. Leo’s not here right now, but Aiden Johnson is expecting you." I start to lead her back to the office.

  "I’m sorry. You must have me confused with someone else. My name is Judy Price and I’m with the Department of Child Services. I didn’t have an appointment with Mr. James today." She pulls a card from the side of her briefcase.

  "Can I ask what this is about?" I request curiously.

  "I’m sorry…?" she prompts for my name.

  "Sarah."

  "I’m sorry, Sarah. This is a personal matter. Can you please see that Mr. James calls me as soon as possible? I have a very urgent matter to discuss with him."

  "Personal? So this isn’t related to Guardian Protection?"

  "I’m sorry. I can’t discuss this with you."

  I stare down at her card, trying to piece together what the Department of Child Services could possibly want with Leo.

  "I’ll see myself out," she says when I don’t immediately respond.

  "No, wait. Can you please just tell me what this is in reference to? I’m Leo’s…wife," I lie, knowing that I’ll need to be family in order to get any type of answers.

  "I’m sorry, but I’ll still need to speak with Leo." She offers me an apologetic smile then lets out a huff. "But you can tell him my visit is in regard to his daughter, Liv."

  "I’m sorry, what? His daughter?" I ask, incredulous.

  "Right. Okay, then. I can see this is news to you. Please relay that I was here to your husband. Have a nice day, Mrs. James." She turns and lets herself out the door.

  I stand immobile as the bite from her announcement ricochets through my body, shredding my hopes and dreams at every turn.

  There has to be a mistake. Maybe another Leo James?

  His daughter?

  It’s just not possible. He would have told me.

  His. Daughter.

  Liv.

  Suddenly, the memory of Leo’s tattoo flashes into my mind, igniting a spark that roars into a wildfire in a matter of seconds.

  "Son of a bitch!" I scream, rushing to the office, knowing one man who will have the answers.

  Just as I enter the door, Johnson’s eyes jump to mine. The phone is to his ear, but he immediately stands as if he is able to sense my anxiety. He tilts his head and uses a hand to cover the mouthpiece.

  "You okay?" he questions.

  "He. Has. A. Daughter?" I deliver very slowly.

  He physically dodges the word ‘daughter’ as I spit it at him. "I’ll have to call you back," he says into the phone then quickly hangs up. "Sarah, calm down." He begins to move around the desk, but I put a hand up to stop him.

  "I need some fucking answers. Like, yesterday." I take a few deep breaths in an attempt to reel in my rapidly growing anger. Though it does nothing to extinguish the betrayal that is surging through my veins.

  "You need to talk to Leo. He should be back in a few—"

  "Goddamn it!" I scream. "Tell me the fucking truth. It’s plain to see Leo won’t do it." My chest heaves and my stomach threatens to revolt.

  "It’s not my truth to tell," he responds with a shrug that enrages me.

  "You know what? Fuck you." I rush forward and decide to get the answers from the only other person in the world who might be willing to give them to me.

  I use the remote to flip on the TV and find the call button on the computer like I’ve seen Leo do numerous times in the past. Then I listen to the drone of a phone ringing as my hands nervously knot in front of me.

  "Sarah, please don’t bring Erica into this," Johnson begs from behind me.

  Fuck that. Someone is telling me what the hell is going on.

  I don’t respond, and after only a few seconds, Erica flashes onto the screen with a baby held tight against her shoulder.

  "Sarah? Is everything okay?" she asks, concerned.

  "Tell me about his daughter," I demand as Johnson begins to cuss behind me.

  "Whose daughter?" She shakes her head in confusion.

  "Leo’s!" I try to scream, but it catches on a sob.

  "He doesn’t have any kids," she answers with certainty.

  "Fuc
k!" Johnson bites out, rubbing his hand over his shaved head. His outburst catches Erica’s attention.

  "Aiden, what’s going on?" She disappears offscreen only long enough to put the baby down.

  "Shit," he mumbles before looking back at Erica. "Yeah. Fuck. Fine. He has a daughter. He’s never met her. He sends money every month, and extra during the holidays. This is not my place to be telling you, so I’m begging both of you to calm the hell down and just talk to Leo about this."

  "Excuse me?" Erica shrieks, apparently hearing this information for the very first time.

  "Her name is Liv, like his tattoo," I fill in and both their heads snap to mine.

  "How the fuck do you know that?" Johnson asks, perplexed.

  "A social worker was just here looking for him," I reply, dropping my head into my hands. "I can’t believe he would lie to me…again."

  "Oh my God," I hear Erica whisper in disbelief. "He got that tattoo our first year together in the program. Oh God." She begins to cry. "How old is she, Aiden?"

  "Please. Wait and talk to him," he answers.

  "Aiden," she pleads.

  "Don’t go there, Erica. I know what you’re thinking and he did not abandon her to take care of you," he responds.

  Erica begins to sob loudly. I try to figure out why she’s so upset, but my attention is stolen away when I hear the front door open.

  AS I pull into the parking garage at my apartment, the strangest feeling of excitement washes over me. After dealing with an idiot client who expected chef services from fucking security, I should, by all accounts, be in a shitty mood. However, I have a fiancée waiting for me upstairs and that idea has me darting from the car and jogging up the stairs. Just as I push through the stairwell door, I see a woman exiting my apartment.

  Even better. I didn’t completely miss my appointment today.

  "Mrs. Brown?" I say as I approach her.

  "Mr. James?" she asks in return.

  "That’s me." I smile and extend a hand. "Leo James. Nice to meet you. Sorry I—" I start but am quickly cut off.

  "I’m glad I ran into you, Leo. My name is Judy Price. I’m with the Department of Child Services." She pulls a business card from the side of her briefcase. "I’m here to talk to you about your daughter, Liv."