by Taylor Dean
“She does.”
“Really, really happy?” I press. I’m avoiding the real reason I’m here because I can’t spit it out.
“Third time you’ve asked me the same question.”
My face turns red. “I’m sorry.” I’m stalling, making a fool of myself, asking him over and over if he’s happy, and ignoring his positive response as if I’m waiting for him to admit he’s not.
“No, I’m sorry. I know this isn’t easy,” Stony relents and I know he’s fallen for my lame excuses.
“This is far from easy.” I look around and I still feel amazed at how incredible his house turned out. “You built your dream home.”
“I always said I would.”
“Yes, you did.” Say it, Mia. Spit it out. Right now. It’s what I came here for. I have the perfect opportunity. What’s Her Name isn’t here. I have Stony to myself. I have his complete attention. Now is the time to spill the truth. It will free me and allow me to move on. Do it, do it. NOW!
Instead the only thing that comes out is small talk. “It’s a beautiful home.” Wait, did I already say that?
“Thank you,” he says with a nod.
“May I have a tour? I’d love to see it.” My mind is saying Tell him, Tell him. But my lips betray me and refuse to utter the words I need to say.
“Uh . . . sure.”
He’s hesitant and frankly, so am I. I really don’t want to see the home he’s made with What’s Her Name. But a tour will distract me from blurting out my ugly truth. And maybe give me some time to bolster my courage. I’m so incredibly nervous. My palms are damp and clammy. My heart is about to beat out of my chest. I’ve never been nervous around Stony before. This is new and probably par for the course from now on. I better get used to it.
He takes me upstairs first. I trail behind, watching the way he takes the stairs with ease. He’s really mastered his prosthetic leg. I remember when he could barely stand by himself and how discouraged he was. He’s worked hard and it shows.
Huge mistake to go upstairs. Huge, huge, huge.
It’s the master bedroom suite. A breeze is blowing in from the open windows. Sheer white drapes billow in the wind. It’s a peaceful and relaxing room. I don’t let my eyes rest on the bed. Not once. I keep my mind deliberately blank and don’t allow it to imagine Stony and Spencer together. Not gonna go there.
The room speaks to the senses and screams spa-like love nest. I give the master bath a perfunctory glance and head for the stairs. “This is a beautiful room, Stony.” Get me outta here.
He follows me rather quickly. I sense he realized his mistake as soon as he brought me up there. He’s so proud of his house, he didn’t think about the repercussions and neither did I.
“The rest of the bedrooms and an office are downstairs. They surround the outdoor courtyard and pool. You can only access it from inside the house.”
My interest is piqued. Stony is a genius when it comes to making homes unique.
He pauses at a doorway. “This is our office.”
Not his office, their office. Somebody help me.
The room is elegant, yet warm, with mahogany accents and chunky furniture. My eyes are drawn to the French doors. I approach and open them wide, revealing the courtyard and inviting pool. I’d like to run and do a cannonball straight into the awaiting water, clothes and all. There was a time when Stony would’ve thought of the same thing. And we both would have thrown caution to the wind and jumped in. Over and over. Until we were breathless and exhausted.
But we were teenagers then. Adults aren’t supposed to do those kinds of things. I miss my zest for life. When did I lose it? Never mind, I know the answer to that. Spending almost two years in prison has a way of squashing your spirit.
Potted flowers dot the area. It’s utterly charming. Stony really has built an oasis in the middle of nowhere. This house could be featured in Better Homes and Gardens.
The next several bedrooms are perfectly decorated and each have their own connecting bathrooms and set of French doors that open onto the courtyard. It’s the last bedroom that gives me pause. I stop dead in my tracks and cannot enter. A cold feeling takes over my entire body. I can’t move and I can’t breathe.
It’s a nursery.
An exquisitely decorated nursery for a very lucky baby girl. A dream nursery. Frilly and feminine and adorable.
My heart drops to my stomach as I turn and face him. “Y-you’re having a baby?” My voice cracks, revealing my emotion. I want happiness for him, but I want happiness for me too. His happiness is abundantly evident and mine is nowhere to be seen. This feels like a hard slap in the face.
I’m lost in the shadows, consumed with guilt. I can’t see anything except my own misery. I’m in a dark tunnel and his happiness is the light at the end, blinding me. Mocking me.
“I’m sorry, I thought you knew.” His eyebrows furrow as he studies my expression.
“No, no one tells me anything because they’re scared I’ll freak out or something.” And I probably will.
“Look, a tour was not the best idea. I’m sorry, Mia.”
Although none fall, my eyes well with tears. I try to hide my distress, but I know it’s written all over my face. He pulls me into his arms and gives me a careful hug. It’s a platonic hug and not anything like the way he used to hug me. At all. Our bodies are not even touching. Regardless, I appreciate the gesture.
“Everything will be fine, Mia,” he soothes.
It won’t be fine because I can’t live with myself. But that’s not his problem anymore.
“I know you’re lost right now, but you’ll find your way again.”
No, I won’t. Not until I confess. I’m frozen with guilt and it’s consuming me. My hand brushes against the scars on his arm and I can’t help but wince and pull my hand away quickly. I did that to him. Me.
It’s all my fault.
“You’re stronger than you think, Mia.”
I’m not. I’m not strong at all. I’m completely lost.
The thing that’s got me twisted in knots is that Stony’s circumstances say so much about where his heart has always been. He’s married, settled, and about to have a baby. He’s a man who will commit to a relationship and actually stay. He will take care of his family and cherish them forever.
And I lost him.
The thought leaves me breathless and gasping for air.
On the other hand, my alcoholic father abandoned his family because he wanted to travel the world. He said he needed more out of life. Evidently his family was keeping him from really living. He left without a backward glance. I never heard from him once during the rest of my childhood. Not once. It was as if his family didn’t exist.
Of course, he called me once as an adult. He asked if he could borrow money. I hung up on him.
This is why I have unresolved daddy issues.
Stony always gave me hope that a man would stay with his family, that they would mean something to him.
I hope there’s more men like him out there. And I hope I can find one that will love me.
It is at that exact moment that the front door opens and in walks What’s Her Name.
CHAPTER
Three
“SPENCER,” STONY SAYS as he pulls away from me slowly. He’s not in a hurry and he doesn’t appear guilty, even though his wife just caught him hugging another woman. No, not another woman. His ex. Not his ex-girlfriend, his ex-fiancée. Even worse.
Spencer.
Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. There she is in the flesh. Every gorgeous inch of her. She’s petite and soft and beautiful—and hugely pregnant. Her belly is full of life, a life created by her and Stony. Her expression is vulnerable as she looks upon Stony, her eyes blinking heavily. Their eyes are only for each other for several heartbeats as they seem to communicate silently with one another.
I panic inside, wondering if I’m about to cause huge problems for Stony once again. I never should’ve come here. This was a mistake. For some
reason, I’m a walking tornado in his life, leaving destruction in my path. I should just stay away from Stony—far, far away—and allow him to live in peace.
Stony and Spencer share a meaningful look. And then, ever so slowly, a small confident smile breaks out on Spencer’s face, clearly directed at Stony, not me. He approaches her and they embrace tightly in a reassuring manner.
A real hug. A hug between a husband and wife. It’s just a hug, but it’s intimate in so many unexplainable ways. I feel as though I shouldn’t be watching.
Their bond is obviously strong and unbreakable. She isn’t fazed by me. That’s eye opening. It certainly puts me in my place.
As their embrace ends, I see Stony whisper something in her ear and I wish I knew what he was saying. His hands gently trail over her belly so naturally, I know it’s a habit. “Spencer, this is Mia. She stopped in for a visit,” Stony says.
Spencer’s eyes land on me and she looks me over from head to toe. I can’t complain, I did the same to her.
I’m not really sure what to expect next. Will she give me a piece of her mind and kick me out of the house? Will she tell me I’m not welcome here? Will she tell me to stay away from Stony? Will she say, “How dare you step foot in our house,” and ask Stony to make me leave this instant?
A few heartbeats of tense silence fill the room.
Then she casts a careful smile my way. “Hello, Mia.” She hesitates for a moment too long, revealing her uncertainty and echoing mine. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She walks forward and extends her hand. I’m completely taken off guard by her friendliness.
“You too,” I say, feeling tongue-tied.
I place my hand in hers and notice how soft her skin feels. At this close range, I also notice she smells really good. Her eyes are sincere and I like her immediately. What’s not to like? I’m so relieved by her kind welcome, I almost burst into tears.
“I’m sorry to hear about your mother.” She leans forward a bit and her glossy hair falls over one shoulder.
I sigh. She’s even more beautiful up close. Why does she have to be so nice? I wanted to dislike her. No, dislike is not strong enough. I wanted to hate her. I don’t doubt she feels the same.
“We’re about to have dinner. We would love to have you join us.”
Really? I was absolutely not expecting that. Why would she want me to stay for dinner? My mind searches for reasons until I realize there are no ulterior motives. She’s trying to make this meeting amicable and I need to do the same.
I still don’t want to like her. But I can’t help myself. I do. I’m intrigued and fascinated and spellbound. She’s lovely. There’s a reason why Stony loves her.
But I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to see how perfect Spencer and Stony are together.
And yet . . . I’m captivated. And so unhealthily curious.
“Okay . . . thank you. I’d love to,” I say before I can overanalyze the situation. I’m a glutton for punishment. It’s like passing a gruesome car accident. You don’t want to look and yet you can’t look away.
Help me, I’m enthralled with Spencer. I don’t think about the fact that I’m fascinated by her because Stony loves her. I brush that thought away to examine later. Or maybe never.
She turns back to Stony. “Why don’t you check on the grill while Mia and I put away the groceries?”
Stony stares into her eyes as if reading her mind or maybe he’s searching for the truth behind her actions. He seems satisfied by what he sees. He nods and says, “Okay.”
As he passes her, one hand runs down her arm. “Feeling all right?”
“I’m good,” she answers, clasping their hands together for a second.
It doesn’t feel like they’re putting on a show for me. If anything, I think they are holding back a bit. But their interaction feels sweet and tender and I know they’re reassuring each other in their own quiet way. And I’m a little fascinated with their manner of communication.
The door closes as Stony goes out to manage the grill in the courtyard and I’m alone with Spencer, which I believe is exactly what she wanted.
She watches Stony, her hands wandering over her belly as if she forgot I’m here. The adoration in her eyes is not lost on me.
I can’t stand how awkward this feels, so I say, “What can I help you with?”
She seems to regain her composure, if it was ever lost at all. “Just a few finishing touches on dinner.”
I follow her to the open kitchen and help put away a few groceries. Then she tells me to have a seat, so I sit at a stool at the kitchen counter. She hands me a bag of chips and I pour them into the designated bowl and set it next to the slow cooker filled with homemade queso. It was a very tough job.
Then she cuts open a cantaloupe and scoops out pieces using a melon baller. I know I’m staring, but I can’t help myself. She really is beautiful. She’s big and pregnant, yet moves with grace.
“I knew this day would come,” she says.
Does she mean, The Return of Mia? “What do you mean?”
“I always knew you’d enter our lives again and that I had to be prepared to face it.”
It hadn’t crossed my mind that this would be hard for her as well. Further evidence of my self-absorption. “I’m only home to help my mother.” My face turns red. My actions betray me. I landed on their doorstep today and it must’ve been obvious to her that this would eventually happen.
“What brings you here today, Mia?”
A valid question. After all, she came home to find her husband hugging me, his ex. That has to feel like a sucker punch, no matter how gracious she’s being. I feel like the world’s worst person.
I absolutely do not want to cause problems between them, so I decide to be as honest as possible. “I felt I owed Stony an apology.”
Surprise crosses over her features. “That was . . . good of you.”
“No, not really. I did it more for me. I needed some closure.”
Her eyebrows rise ever so slightly. “He needs it as well. It will mean a lot to him.”
“Will it?” I say without thinking. It doesn’t come across as challenging, it comes across as sad. I think I’m the saddest, most pathetic creature that ever lived. No wonder she’s not really threatened by me—not that I want her to be.
She sets down the melon baller and covers my hand with hers. “It will mean the world to him.”
It takes only thirty seconds with her to see why Stony has found peace. She’s comforting and soothing. I want to tell her all of my secrets because I know she’ll understand.
But I don’t. I can’t even form the words.
“I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for him too,” she adds, removing her hand from mine.
“Is it hard for you?” I ask.
“I’m not gonna lie, it was at first. When Stony told me everything, I wanted to run away as fast as I could and never look back. But now . . .”
“You have your own bond with Stony,” I finish for her. Meanwhile, my thoughts are going haywire. Everything. He told her everything. I was a subject of conversation between them—an issue to be dealt with, a problem to work through. I kind of wish I could disappear.
Spencer breathes in sharply. “Yes, we have our own bond now.”
“I can see it and feel it. It’s . . . impressive.” I want to say it’s beautiful, but I fear I’ll sound patronizing. I’m not sure if she realizes she has a bond with Stony that I never had.
Thoughtfully, she places a few more melon balls into a bowl. I wonder what she’s thinking as she says politely, “Thank you, Mia.”
No matter how strong their bond is, my arrival on the scene has to be a worry. I need to assuage her worry right now. “Please know, I would never try to . . .”
“I know,” she whispers.
“How? How are you so confident?”
“Because I trust Stony.”
But not me. The thought is implied, even if she didn’t say it outright. She do
esn’t need to. After all, she doesn’t know me.
I was correct about one thing. Their relationship is strong and tight. Again, I feel that rush of happiness for Stony. Yet it’s a selfish sort of joy. I only feel it because his happiness redeems me in so many ways. “Sorry about the hug. Things got a little emotional. It wasn’t what it looked like. I don’t want to cause any problems. I swear, that’s not why I’m here. I would never do that. Stony’s a married man now and I respect that.”
“No worries. I figured that out for myself.”
I suppose a woman knows when her man is in the throes of a passionate embrace—and our hug wasn’t one. It must’ve been sadly obvious to her.
I still want to reassure her. “I didn’t know about the baby and it hit me like a ton of bricks for so many reasons. I mean . . .”
“You don’t need to explain, I get it.”
I don’t know what possesses me to be so brutally honest. She strikes me as a soft soul and I don’t want to have any misunderstandings mess things up. “I’m sure you do. A baby . . . well, it makes everything very real.”
“We’re in this for the long haul.”
“I can see that. In a weird way, I’m relieved to see that Stony’s life was not ruined by me. It alleviates my guilt.”
“No,” she shakes her head. “Don’t do that to yourself, Mia.”
“Why are you being so nice to me? Aren’t you supposed to hate me? Yell and scream? Throw me out of the house? All of the above.”
Spencer smiles a little wistfully. “I know this is important to Stony. I wouldn’t do that to him.”
Again, it’s not about me. I feel very put in my place once more. But that’s okay. I appreciate her kindness all the same.
The oven timer beeps and she turns to attend to it. I’m a little in awe of her. I’m not sure I would have it in me to be so kind if the situation was reversed. Her confidence in her relationship floors me. More than anything, I want to find that kind of love someday.
But I don’t love me right now. And that comes first.
“How far along are you, Spencer?”
“Getting close to eight months and I feel it. I was going to go to nursing school in Abilene, but when I found out we were pregnant, all my plans changed. My focus is elsewhere now. I’ll return to it one day.”
