“I wasn’t lying, Chase. I was…I was just wrong. We can’t get through it. I can’t.”
“I thought you loved me.” It came out as an accusation, not as the plea it really was.
“I do love you,” she said quietly, and hope flickered in my chest for a moment. Then she shook her head. “But it isn’t enough.”
And really, that’s the part that destroyed me. That someone who loved me, who was willing to spend her life with me, could abandon me over something I couldn’t control. I didn’t choose this any more than she did, and I can’t walk away from it. But she could. And her love for me, real as it was, wasn’t enough to stop her.
How can I ever open myself up to a woman again? How can I enter into a relationship, knowing that this is what happens? I’m flawed, incomplete, and what woman would want a man like that?
Yes, Kendall and I had great chemistry last night. Yes, I’d like to see her again. And maybe she’d even want to see me. But at some point, the truth would come out: I’m infertile. And then she would leave me, just like Ashley did.
So why should I bother? Why would I voluntarily put myself through the pain of heartbreak and loss? No. I know what’ll happen in the end, and I want no part of it.
I don’t need to pursue a relationship. I don’t need to follow up with Kendall just because she made me feel like I was waking up inside. I’m perfectly content on my own.
And okay, I know that content is no comparison for love. I get that. I’m getting by more than I’m actually happy. Because the truth is that I want a family just as much as Ashley did. I want to raise a child, to show him or her the ways of the world, and I want to do it with a woman I love. That’s why I can’t resent her or be angry with her for leaving.
If I could walk away from the situation I’m in, I would do it too.
“Excuse me, sir?”
The flight attendant is back, my coffee in her hand. I take it carefully, thanking her.
“Are you all right, sir?” she asks.
I’m fine. Just contemplating the bleak state of my own existence, I think to myself.
“I was thinking about work,” I tell her. “I had a bit of a breakthrough last night, and I’m in my head about it.” That’s one way to put it.
She gives me that smile again and tosses her hair a little. I haven’t been out of the game that long. She’s definitely flirting.
“What business are you in?” she asks.
I know the moves. I could flirt back, but my heart’s not in it. Whatever I was feeling last night with Kendall, it’s definitely not here now.
“I’m an investor,” I say, knowing it doesn’t sound sexy, and I take a long sip of my coffee and turn my gaze back to the window.
My life might be bleak and gray, but at least it isn’t painful. Things could always be worse. And setting myself up to be rejected would definitely be worse.
I put Kendall out of my mind as best I can and turn my attention to thoughts of work. What I said to the flight attendant just now was completely false. In fact, if there’s anything that can be counted upon to get me out of my own head, it’s work. And I have a feeling I’m going to be spending a lot of time in my home office in the days to come.
Chapter 10
Kendall
Three Months Later
Aunt Mariel holds me at arm’s length and looks me up and down critically.
“Don’t tell me,” I say, laughing lightly. “I’m too skinny.”
“Hush. Let me look at you. I haven’t seen you in too long,” she says. “The last time you were here, there was snow on the ground.”
I remember because of my walk from the movie theater to the bar, and then to the hotel. But I push that from my mind.
She continues, “And now we’re halfway through spring. It’s nearly summer.”
I sigh. “I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make it out to see you these past few months, things have just been so crazy at home. I’ve been doing all this extra work trying to impress my boss, and I’ve actually written some pieces I think are pretty good.”
“I know, my love, I’ve seen them,” she says. “Hey, how about you come with me on my walk around the lake? The community management group just put in a new fountain, and I’m keen to hear your thoughts on it.”
Smiling, I drop my bag in the living room and follow her out the door. I’m definitely in the mood for a walk after spending five hours on the bus.
Aunt Mariel sets a brisk pace, and it takes me a minute to match my strides to hers. When we’re walking comfortably, she glances over at me. “So, Kendall, what’s kept you away so long?”
“I told you,” I say, surprised. “I’ve been working.”
“I’m sure you have, honey. But you’ve always been a hard worker, and that never interfered with your visits before.”
“I’m really sorry, Aunt Mariel—”
“Hush. I just want to know what’s going on with you. You can tell me, you know. Did something happen the last time you were here? I did get the feeling you weren’t particularly happy on that visit; was it something I said?”
“Oh, God, no! No, of course not.” I can’t believe she thought I was upset with her. “No, it’s dumb, really. It’s just…there was this guy.”
“Ah,” she says knowingly. “The friend you stayed with the first night you were in town?”
“He wasn’t a friend. I met him for the first time that night.”
“I see.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t approve—”
“Oh, Kendall. Don’t be silly. You’re an adult, and I know you’re capable of making good decisions for yourself.” She smiles. “Besides, you’re not the only one who’s experienced a night of passion, you know.”
“Okay, we’re definitely coming back to that story.”
She waves a hand. “But what about you? What about this mystery man?”
“He disappeared,” I say. “I mean, he didn’t disappear. But he was gone when I woke up the next morning. He only left a note behind.”
I don’t tell her that I still have that note, that I’ve read it a dozen times. This story makes me look bad enough already.
“Ah,” Aunt Mariel says. “You’ve been reluctant to come back because of bad memories?”
“I know that’s dumb,” I say. “This is my home. There are so many more good memories here than bad.”
“And there always will be.” My aunt slows her pace a little. “But this thing you went through was recent. Be kind to yourself, Kendall.”
“It was my fault. I made a mistake. I had unrealistic expectations.”
“It’s not unrealistic to think a man you go to bed with will still be there when you wake up,” she says sternly. “He was wrong to run out on you like that.”
“He had a plane to catch.”
“He could have woken you to say goodbye. It was inconsiderate.”
She’s right. But still…
“You don’t know the whole story,” I say. “He was somebody sort of famous. An ex-model. And he kept that from me, probably because he didn’t want me making a big deal of it, but when I figured it out, I seriously considered using him for a story to advance my career. But that would have been unethical. So what happened…it’s really no more than I deserve.”
“Don’t say that,” she says firmly. “You didn’t write that story, did you?”
“Well, no.”
“And he did more than consider walking out on you. He actually did it. Actions weigh more than thoughts, Kendall. What you thought about doing doesn’t matter nearly as much as what you actually did. You did not deserve to be treated that way.”
I exhale deeply. “The truth is, that’s not even the real reason I’m upset about it. I’ve been trying to convince myself it is, but it’s not working.”
“Then what’s the real reason?”
“Promise you won’t get all excited?”
“When have I ever gotten all exci
ted?”
I give her a look.
“All right,” she says. “I promise.”
“The truth is, I really felt something,” I admit. “A connection. You know me. I wouldn’t go home with a guy I’d just met. But there was something about him, something about the way he made me feel, that overrode that instinct. And if I’m being honest, I was really interested to see how things might develop between us. I knew there were no guarantees that he’d feel the same way, but to be robbed of the chance to even talk about it.”
She nods sagely. “Have you tried to find him?”
“Find him?”
“Use the world wide web. If he’s actually a famous person, I’m sure he’s not hard to find.”
“He’s actually kind of gone into hiding. That’s why a story about him would have been such a big scoop. But even if I could find him, he’s made it pretty clear he’s not interested. I’m not going to chase him.”
“Maybe he was insecure,” Aunt Mariel suggests. “Maybe he thought you wouldn’t want him.”
“He’s a billionaire. I don’t think he was intimidated by me.”
“All right,” she says. “Come. Sit.” She takes my hand and leads me to a bench overlooking the water.
“Are you all right?” I ask. It’s not like Aunt Mariel to interrupt her walk.
“We need to talk,” she says.
“About what?”
“I know he was inconsiderate to you. I know you have a lot of mixed feelings about him, and I understand why. I really do, honey.”
“What are you getting at? You’re starting to scare me.”
“Nothing to be alarmed about. It’s just that you need to try to contact this man.”
“No, Aunt Mariel, I told you, I don’t want to pursue him after what happened. I know you want me to meet a guy, to have a relationship, but this isn’t the right guy. Even if I did feel…something. It doesn’t outweigh all the problems. We can’t even—”
But she cuts me off. “Kendall, honey, listen. I’m pretty sure you’re pregnant.”
I burst out laughing. “I’m what? I’m not pregnant.”
“I think you are,” she says. “I’ve thought so since you got here. At first I thought you knew,” she continues. “I knew something was different as soon as I saw you. For one thing, you’ve finally gained a little weight—”
“My weight fluctuates! That doesn’t mean I’m pregnant.”
“Have you been getting your period?”
“Well…” I’m suddenly uncomfortable. “Okay, no, but that happened in high school too, when I was applying to colleges. Stress can do that. And I’ve been putting in so many extra hours at work lately. I’m sure it’s just because of that.” I’m starting to feel dizzy.
“How long has it been?” she asks.
I think back. It can’t have been that long, right? It must have been sometime after the night I was with Chase. That was three months ago. I would have noticed three months. I wouldn’t have just written that off to stress. Would I?
My thoughts are coming more frantically now, piling up, and I realize suddenly that my last period was the week before I visited Aunt Mariel last. Nothing since then.
But that doesn’t prove anything. This could still be stress related.
“Look, you don’t understand,” I say, feeling that if I can just get her to see my point, I can somehow fight my way back from the brink of this realization I don’t want to be having. “I’m working ten-hour days. I haven’t had any time for a social life at all. I haven’t been sleeping properly—I’m tired all the time. I’m so overworked that I thought I was coming down with the flu for a while.”
“But it wasn’t the flu,” Aunt Mariel says. “Morning sickness?”
“I—”
“Those are side effects of pregnancy,” she says. “The exhaustion, the nausea. Your body was trying to let you know.”
“But I can’t be pregnant,” I say. “I can’t be.”
She rests a gentle hand on my arm. “Did you use protection?”
He didn’t have a condom, I remember numbly. But it shouldn’t have mattered.
“I’m on the pill. I never miss a dose.”
“But that’s not foolproof, is it?” Aunt Mariel says.
“Maybe not, but it’s something like ninety-nine percent. I’m not pregnant. No. The odds of that happening…it’s too far-fetched. It can’t be true.”
She shakes her head. “Kendall, honey, you’ve got the look.”
“The look? What look?”
“The glow.” She cups my cheek. “I’ve been on this earth a long time. I’ve seen a lot of young women go through this. I know the signs. The color in your cheeks, the way you smile. You’re carrying yourself differently. Your body recognizes what’s happening, even if you haven’t consciously accepted it yet. Trust me. I can see it written all over you.”
I’m speechless. I stare down at my hands, my head spinning.
Could I really be pregnant? The thought never even occurred to me, but now that Aunt Mariel says it aloud, all the signs do seem to fit. The morning sickness. The fatigue. The fact that I’ve been so late. God, it all makes perfect sense. Why didn’t I see it before?
And what the hell am I going to do now?
Something must show on my face, because Aunt Mariel pulls me into a tight hug.
“Hey, honey, it’s all right,” she says quietly. “This is fine. We can handle this.”
Her gentle reassurance breaks through my shock and numbness, and suddenly I’m crying, my body shaking with sobs. I don’t know if I’m unhappy or scared or simply overwhelmed by everything that’s happening. All I know is that the mess of feelings welling up inside me has grown too big to be contained. I lean into my aunt and cry harder than I have in years.
And Aunt Mariel sits with me, solid and supportive, one hand rubbing slow circles on my back. She doesn’t try to halt my tears or talk to me. One great thing about my aunt—she’s always understood that sometimes you just need a good cry.
Finally, my tears exhausted, I sit back.
“Sorry,” I say hoarsely.
“No need to apologize.” She takes my hands in hers. “This is a turning point in your life, honey. Of course you’re overwhelmed.”
“I don’t know if I can do it,” I confess. “Raising a child? I don’t have the faintest idea how to do that. And I’m all alone.”
“You’re not all alone,” Aunt Mariel says firmly. “You have me. I may not have raised any children of my own, but I certainly watched you grow up, Kendall. And you have something even more valuable, too.”
“What?”
“You have your mother’s spirit.” She looks me in the eye. “Your mother was alone, remember? I know she felt overwhelmed too, in the beginning. But she gave you a wonderful childhood, didn’t she?”
“She did,” I whisper, wishing she could be here now.
“Well, you’ll do the same for your baby. I’m sure of it.” She squeezes my hand.
Chapter 11
Kendall
An hour later, I’m at the Applewood drugstore, standing in the aisle that caters to women’s needs. I made this trip a few times with friends in college, but I never thought I’d be making it for myself. I was always careful. I always used birth control.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
I’m here to buy a pregnancy test, but I don’t know where to begin. There are dozens of different brands spread before me, each claiming to be able to confirm a pregnancy days before a missed period. Little late in the game for that, I think. Early notice isn’t exactly what I’m looking for. So which one should I choose?
In the end, I make my decision based on price. A nice, sensible, mid-range pregnancy test. I feel like I’m buying a sedan. Then the thought occurs to me that I’ll probably need to buy a sensible car at some point. Isn’t that what moms do? I’ve never owned a car in my life. Where would I park it in downtown Chicago?
Oh, God. Am I going to ha
ve to move out of the city?
Take it easy, Kendall, I scold myself. Take the test first, then panic. This could be a false alarm.
The girl behind the counter gives me a funny look as she rings me up, and I wonder what she’s thinking. Does it show on my face that the pregnancy I’m about to go test for is unplanned? How many of these tests does she sell every day? How many women does she see through such a vulnerable moment?
She hands me the paper bag with my test in it, and I feel like she’s giving me a window to my future. Like she’s some kind of sorcerer instead of a teenage girl.
I make my way back to Aunt Mariel’s slowly. This walk is the last span of time I’ll have before I know the truth for sure. But all too soon it’s over, and I’m back at the house with nothing to do but find out the truth.
Aunt Mariel is waiting for me at the table. “Did you get it?”
I hold up the bag.
“Remember,” she says, “no matter what the results are, you and I will handle it. Do you trust me?”
“I trust you.”
How I wish I could just let her be the adult and handle everything for me! But I have to face this. I take a deep breath, clutch the bag tightly, and head down the hall to the bathroom.
Taking the test is easy enough. It’s the waiting that’s hard. I place the little stick beside the sink and walk away from it to sit on the edge of the bathtub. I can’t watch. I can’t stare at it, waiting for the little indicators to appear. Plus for pregnant, minus for not. Easy enough to understand. But waiting is impossible.
The seconds crawl by.
Finally, after what feels like forever, it’s time. I approach the test, trembling, and lean over to look at it as hesitantly as if I’m peering over the lip of a chasm.
Plus sign.
Positive.
I’m pregnant.
I know it now, know it for sure, and yet a part of me is still clinging to the idea that this is a false alarm. There’s a second test in the box—for some reason, they’re sold in packs of two. Maybe for this reason. Maybe it’s common for people to want to double-check. In any case, I want to be absolutely sure, so I repeat the whole process again, but the result comes up the same. Plus sign. Pregnant.
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