by Amy Brent
The only financial security she had was her parent’s wealth, and there was no doubt in my mind that Gloria would rip that away because of the scandal. Gloria cared about her reputation so much that she put it above her own daughter’s well-being at times.
Reaching forward, I stroked Violet’s tangled blonde hair back from her pale face. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy when she looked up at me through her fingers. She was utterly devastated and terrified. I could read it on her face as she sat up to look at me with a small glimmer of hope which made me feel even more guilty. I had rehearsed what I wanted to tell Violet on the drive to her apartment.
“Whatever you decide to do, I will support you,” I said. “The baby, too. I won’t turn my back on my own kid if you decide to keep the baby.”
“I-I-I don’t know what I’m going to do yet,” Violet said, pulling herself up into a sitting position. “I honestly never thought that this would happen, Cole. Please believe me.”
I stared into her sincere eyes, but I couldn’t bring myself to fully believe that Violet didn’t think about birth control. Everything was moving lightning fast between us, and I had a feeling that she had gotten caught up in her own fantasies. This was a reality, though. I was twice her age with a multibillion dollar business underneath my belt, along with other investments. I was divorced and bitter from everything that happened.
“You have a little bit of time to think about what you want to do,” I said. “How far along do you think you are?”
“Maybe only a couple of weeks at the most.”
“You have some time to think about what you want to do. I have some time to think about it too, but let me get you something just in case you do decide the alternative.”
“What alternative?” Violet asked.
I pulled out my checkbook. I scribbled my name down on the bottom. It felt as though someone was digging a knife into my gut as I handed the blank check over to Violet. This was the one thing I had prided myself on for the past year that I never once had to do, but now it was staring me straight in the face.
Violet took the check with a frown. “What is this for?”
“If you decide to end the pregnancy,” I said, and she looked up at me sharply. “Whatever the amount is, or wherever you go, I’ll cover it. I can afford to do it.”
“Fuck no,” Violet spat viciously. She tossed the blank check back at me. “How can you be so cold about this, Cole? I didn’t even consider this as an option.”
Frustration tore through me. My tumult of emotions was getting the best of me again.
“What do you want to do, then?” I demanded, taking the check back to stuff it in my wallet. “What’s your plan here, Violet?”
Violet’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time, they were angry tears. She wiped at the edge of her nose with the sleeve of her sweater as she glared at me.
“I’m keeping this baby,” she said firmly. “I don’t care what people think, or what my family is going to think. I love you, okay? I want to have this baby with you.”
“Violet—”
“That’s my answer to your question. You wanted to know what my plan is. There you go. I’m keeping this baby, and I refuse to see it as a bad thing. No matter what you tell me, or what anyone else tells me.”
“Calm down,” I said, running a hand through my hair in aggravation. “If you’re going to keep the baby, then I’ll help you with the baby. I didn’t know what you were wanting to do.”
“Is that the only reason why you came here tonight?” Violet asked bitterly. “To see if I was going to keep the baby, or to check up on me to make sure I didn’t go tell my parents?”
I gritted my teeth at her petulant attitude. Hormones. She was hormonal, but also afraid of the reason why I was here. No matter how much of a defensive front she put up, I knew at the end of the day, she cared about what her parents thought. The three of them were close and had been Violet’s entire life.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay, but you know why I’m here, too.” Violet turned her head to stare down at the floor to hide her tears again. “I just think it’d be a good idea for us to stop seeing each other until we figure things out. This a situation where we can’t just jump into it blind, you know?”
“I guess,” Violet muttered through her tears. “You’re going to end this now, aren’t you? That’s why you came here.”
“I don’t want to end this,” I said. My heart was already shattered in my chest. I didn’t want to think about leaving Violet here all alone with our baby growing in her stomach, but this was for the best. We both needed the time to think. “You need the time to think about what you want to do. Not what I would want.”
“You’re saying that we should stop seeing each other?”
I reached forward to place a hand on her bent knee. Her leg tensed beneath my touch, but she didn’t pull away, either.
“That’s what I am saying,” I said quietly. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Violet. I’m not good at relationships. My last relationship ended up in divorce.” Her shoulders quivered.
“And no matter what you tell me,” I said. “I know how much you care about your parents. I care about them, too. This entire thing isn’t just about us. I know your father is going to be very angry over this entire thing.”
“They’d have to get used to it eventually,” Violet whispered. “I’m pregnant. There’s nothing that is going to take that back. Not even how furious my parents get with you.”
“You’re right, but for now, I think it’s a good idea if we take some time away from each other. Take the rest of the week off to get some rest.”
“What about my job, though?”
“I’ll arrange for working from home option for you so that you can work from here for some time,” I replied, squeezing her knee. “You really do need to stay here and take care of yourself, Violet. I can see that you don’t feel good. When’s the last time you were able to keep food down?”
Violet shifted her knee away from my hand. “I haven’t been able to eat at all. I throw it all up.”
“Try to keep yourself healthy as much as possible.”
My phone buzzed from inside of my pants pocket. I pulled it out to read the text message from my driver waiting outside of Violet’s apartment.
“I have to go, Vi,” I said. “You can call me anytime that you need me to do something.”
“I need you to stay here with me right now,” Violet said, desperation clinging to her voice. “Can’t you just stay here with me? We could talk some more?”
I rose from the couch, despite my heart urging me to sit back down. If I stayed, I would never be able to leave. Just staring down at Violet with her blonde hair tangled, eyes puffy and blood-shot with fear, tugged hard on my heart strings. I definitely had to leave. Just kiss her goodbye before you fuck something else up in the process.
“I have to go,” I said. “I missed work today thinking about what to do. I have a few meetings to get to back at the office.”
Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss on Violet’s forehead. She didn’t try to reach for me like I expected when I pulled away. For some reason, that stung worse than watching her curl up in a ball again to cry. I forced myself to open the door to her apartment and turned to look at her one last time before saying, “I know this feels fucked up, but I’m doing this to give you some time to think. I need the time to think too. Both of us need it to make a rational decision here.”
Violet didn’t respond. She rolled over to her side, grabbing hold of a blanket folded on the couch to drape it over herself. I shut her apartment door with a heavy sigh.
Manhattan was buzzing with energy for a Tuesday night when I told my driver to pull back into Crayton, Inc’s private parking garage. I took the elevator back up to my office to find the cleaning crew already there for the night. They waved to me as I passed by them before I opened my office.
The silence felt good when I closed the door behind me. A headache pounded fu
riously in my temples as I clicked the lights on before heading to my desk for some aspirin and a glass of whiskey. Four meetings tomorrow morning, and all I could think about was Violet back at her small apartment terrified and upset because of me. All because of me.
“I’m the biggest fucking dick in the world,” I growled, slamming the palm of my hand down on the desk.
Pain shot up my arm. I had to bite that damn apple to see what it would taste like, and I had liked the taste too fucking much. We were both stuck in a fucked up situation that I had no idea how we were going to navigate through.
If Violet did decide to keep the baby, I knew what would happen. Her father would want to kill me the second he laid eyes on me when he realized that he had trusted the wrong man with his daughter’s well-being. Then, there would be the gossip that spread like wildfire throughout the lonely housewives of the Hamptons before it reached the tabloids. Everyone would know then that Violet Summers had been knocked up by me.
I ran a hand down the side of my face as I poured myself a glass of whiskey. Gloria would be the one behind all of the gossip and rumors because attention was attention. I never told Alan my dislike for Gloria’s obsession with social stature along with maintaining a sparkly image. Her obsession put pressure on Violet, who in return, turned away from anything like that.
I didn’t know what was going to happen. A part of my heart belonged to Violet. That much I knew for sure, but it was a first for me to be in a situation that I didn’t know how to handle. My phone buzzed on my desk, and I picked it up reluctantly to read the text message from Violet.
I don’t need to think about what to do. I’ll be in the office first thing in the morning to get my things. If you want to join me, which I think you do, I’m going to take the day off. And then resume work again. That is if you want me to.
“Damn it, Violet,” I muttered, tossing my phone down on the desk. “Why do you have to make this even more fucking complicated? Why can’t you just follow what I’m trying to tell you?”
I knew it was pointless trying to tell her to stay clear of the office tomorrow. She had something in mind, and there was nothing that I could say to change it.
Chapter 22
Violet
I had the worst week of my entire life. I could hardly eat or function. It was as if I was moving through jelly. Trying to move forward and move on with my life, but not really being able to. Everything seemed so bleak and hopeless. I wasn’t hungry at all, but I knew I had to eat for the baby’s sake. So, I forced myself to eat. I knew it wouldn’t be good for the baby if I starved myself.
I woke up, went to work, came home, and slept. That was my daily routine. That seemed like all I knew how to do. There was a giant hole in my chest, leaving me to feel hollow. I knew this whole thing was my fault, but that knowledge didn’t make things easier for me.
I couldn’t help the pain and the guilt that filled me. I had lost everything I had ever wanted through my own decision to lie and my own stupid choice. I wished that I had never ever opened my mouth and said anything at all.
I woke up on Saturday morning. I wanted to get out of the house, but other than going to work, it had been so hard to get myself to do anything at all. But I woke up with this deep need to just get out of the house and do something. Anything at all. Even if it was just a walk.
So that’s what I did.
I forced down some breakfast and got dressed. Then, I walked out of my house and began my walk. I walked just aimlessly down the street, taking whatever way I felt like. I had no planned course, and fifteen minutes later, I ended up near Central Park.
I walked through the park, mindlessly strolling along a path. The fresh air and scenery should have helped me think more clearly, but all that it did was bring Cole back to the forefront of my thoughts. Thinking of him made me want to cry, scream, and punch something. The emotions pulsing through me were more than I was able to handle.
I wanted things to be okay. I wanted them to be fixed, and I wanted to be able to talk to him again. I wanted to be able to open up and tell him everything. I just wanted to feel his arms wrapped around me and to hear his strong, confident voice to tell me everything was going to work out somehow.
As I left the park, I saw a coffee shop and decided to stop in and get some. I could have one cup per day while pregnant, and I hadn’t had any today. I desperately needed the caffeine, and I needed something to keep my mind off Cole.
As I was waited in line to order my coffee, someone came in behind me. I turned to look and felt sick as soon as I saw who it was. Michael Foster. He was there in the same coffee shop as me at the same time as me. In a place where I hardly ever came. And the first place I had really gone to in a while.
If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.
I wasn’t prepared for this. I didn’t want to have to talk to him ever again. Now we were shoved inside this little coffee shop together. I tried my best to ignore him, but it was like a big slap in the face. My stomach felt sick again.
“Hello, Violet,” he said.
His voice reminded me of a villain from a movie. The way he said, “Hello Violet.” It was creepy and just rubbed me the wrong way.
I had to fight the urge to throw up everywhere. I swallowed hard and tried my hardest to ignore him.
“You can’t even say ‘hello’ now?” he asked in a snarky tone.
I cringed. “Hi,” I said, not holding back my attitude.
I didn’t want to talk to him, but I didn’t want him to cause a scene, either. I didn’t want to play these childish games with him. And I really didn’t want to sit here and have to associate myself with him anymore. I was beginning to plan my exit.
He laughed. The fucker actually had the balls to laugh at me. The pregnancy hormones were making it very hard to stand in front of him and not just punch him in the face.
The line began to move forward, and I moved with it. Hoping that he wouldn’t talk to me anymore, I kept my attention focused in front of me. I stared up at the drink menu, even though I already knew what I wanted. It helped to keep me distracted.
“I haven’t seen you around recently,” he said in an almost whisper.
I clenched my fists. I wasn’t in the mood to play games with him. Hell, I wasn’t even in the mood to be within the same 500-foot range of him. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm myself down.
And then he said something even worse. Something I hadn’t been expecting and something that caused me to hold everything in so that I wouldn’t splash hot coffee in his face the moment I got my order. He wasn’t worth wasting three dollars on.
He leaned into me closer and said, “Seems like the boss man gets tired of his floozies pretty quickly since you’re clearly out the door.”
I turned slowly and looked him dead in the eye. “Go fuck yourself,” I said and rushed out of there.
I could get coffee somewhere else. I wasn’t going to stay anywhere near where he was. It wasn’t worth it. It was putting more stress on me and my baby than I needed right now.
I walked quickly back home. I tried to fight the tears the entire way. I didn’t want to be that girl. The one that everybody sees crying on the streets of NYC. No one wants to be that girl. I sure as hell didn’t want to be her. And I wasn’t going to allow myself to be her.
My heart was bleeding already, and it felt like Michael had taken a fistful of salt and rubbed it in the wounds. Making it hurt more. Making it feel even more real. I wanted the world to end so the pain would go away. I wanted Cole to speak to me again, dammit.
I rushed into my house and shut the door behind me. And tears came quickly after. I was alone and could allow myself to cry at least for a moment. As long as I didn’t have to see or talk to anyone, I was going to be okay. I could cry and no one would know. I wouldn’t even have to feel ashamed. At least, that’s what I was hoping for. But as soon as the tears really started coming down, my phone started to ring.
&nbs
p; I looked down at it in surprise. It was my mom. It was almost as if she knew when something was wrong with me. It was kind of bothering me that I couldn’t just be left alone for too long. I wiped my eyes, even though I knew she wouldn’t be able to see them, and I blew my nose. I answered the phone right before it went to voicemail.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, trying hard to keep my voice from cracking.
She did not need to know that I had been crying. It wasn’t going to get us anywhere at all. She pried too much, and it wasn’t out of concern for my well-being. She didn’t care about my feelings. All she cared about was her image. I didn’t want to have to talk to her about anything. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her I was pregnant.
“Violet,” she said. There was a hint of bitterness in her tone, and I didn’t quite know what that was about.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” I asked.
“One of the nurses told her friend who lives in the Hamptons who told someone else, who told… Anyway, that doesn’t matter. What matters is it got back to me, and I was the very last person to even find out about it.”
“What is it, Mom?” I asked.
I was trying to hide the irritation in my voice, but I couldn’t help it. I hated that my mom always felt the need to play mind games with me. To drag me along some “you-know-what-you-did-but-I’m-not-saying” path. I hated it. When she didn’t respond, I cleared my throat and asked her again. “What is it, Mom? What did you hear?”
