“Your bed?” She sneers. “No, little girl, this is my bed.”
Hearing ‘little girl’ come from her lips is like a slap to the face. When Jenson says it, I feel special and loved. From her, it’s the worst insult, like a knife to the heart.
“The hell it is! I’ve been living here for the last month,” I yell.
Another grating laugh bursts forth from the woman who is now standing a few short feet away from me. I can’t help but notice how comfortable she is in her nudity. She’s standing there like she belongs and suddenly I feel like the interloper.
“You see, I’ve been away on business and sometimes my fiancé has to sate his hungers with pathetic little sluts like you until I return.”
I barely choke back the bile that’s rising in the back of my throat. “Fiancé?”
She takes three quick steps toward me. I back up, trying to put distance between us, but I’m locked in place when I bump against the wall. She waves her left hand in front of my face, showing off an impressive diamond ring. My heart breaks when I recognize the ring as Jenson’s great-grandmother’s ring.
When Jackie and I were younger we used to sneak into her parent’s room and dress in her mother’s fancy jewelry and shoes. I could never forget the gorgeous ring—Jackie would put it on and complain about how unfair it was that Jenson would get it for his future wife. The ring had been given to the wives of the last three Johns’ brides and would be passed down to the first-born son until the end of time. Their family is big on tradition.
“So, you see, this is my bed and you need to take your home wrecking ass the hell out of here before you get hurt.”
Before I get hurt? I couldn’t be anymore hurt than I am in this moment. She’s completely obliterated me. I’m bleeding from the inside out. Hurt isn’t even the right word for what this feels like. I don’t think there is a word in the entire Webster’s dictionary that could measure up to what I’m feeling.
I lean against the wall, unable to support myself as I desperately try to make sense of this situation. I don’t notice the woman moving about the room until she’s directly in front of me and the heavy thump of a suitcase sounds at my feet.
“I went ahead and packed your things.”
This has got to be some kind of mistake. I must have spoken out loud without realizing it because there is another cackling laugh.
“No mistake, honey. You’re not the first and probably won’t be the last, but Jenson and I are ready to settle down now.” Her hands fall to her stomach and that’s when I notice the soft roundness of her lower belly.
The room starts to spin and my vision gets hazy. Jenson, my Jenson, has a pregnant fiancée. It takes every ounce of my will to keep my hands from cupping my own stomach, knowing that there is a good chance I’m carrying Jenson’s baby, too.
Oh, God.
Without a word, I hastily grab my suitcase and run from the room. I take in the penthouse and realize in my distraction earlier, I missed that everything of mine is gone. I didn’t bring much, a few pictures of my parents and a couple trinkets—they are all gone, presumably packed in my suitcase along with everything else. I burst through the door and I’m halfway down the stairs when I hear the door slam shut and the locks engage.
I drive to the Johns’ house, praying that Jackie is home. When I arrive and pull into my spot in the large garage, I see that her car isn’t here. I sit frozen in my car wondering what the hell I’m going to do now. There’s no doubt that Jackie’s parents will let me move back in until I can figure out my next move. Hell, they’re rarely home. Now that both of their kids are grown, they’re enjoying a retirement filled with travel and adventure.
If I stay here, Jenson will be a fixture in my life, though. How will I ever be able to face him? My hand falls to my stomach and I realize that unless I leave, I’ll be seeing a whole lot of him… and her for the rest of my life. Decision made, I head into the house to pack up some more of my things.
After I throw the few things I want to take with me into a duffle bag, I head to Jackie’s room. I sit down at her desk and write her a quick letter. I apologize for leaving without a goodbye and give a very brief rundown of what happened. I explain that I can’t stay, especially since she’s going to be away at school and I’d be left here alone. Hopefully, she will understand that it would be intolerable to stay and watch Jenson with his fiancée. I close the letter with a promise to call her once I get settled.
With that done, I look up at the bulletin board that hangs above her desk. It’s covered with pictures of us. Our parents always said we were thick as thieves and it’s the truth. No matter our differences, it’s always been the two of us. She forged a powerful bond the day she stood up for me against her friends when they tried to bully me. She’s my best friend and the sister of my heart.
My heart breaks when my eyes land on the newest image. It’s from two weeks ago. My smile is ridiculously huge, happiness shining around me like a halo. The reason for that smile is right beside me, his arms wrapped around my waist holding me close. On my other side is Jackie—her arm is thrown over my shoulder, but her hand is behind Jenson’s head giving him bunny ears.
I pull the picture from the board and slip it between the pages of one of the books I’m bringing with me. It’s a first edition copy of Alice in Wonderland. My dad gave me that book on my sixteenth birthday. Most sixteen year olds want a new car for their birthday, but this was perfect for me. Of course, I got a car, too, but the book was the best gift ever. I hug the book to my chest before putting it back in my bag.
My eyes burn with the first prickling of tears, but I refuse to let them fall. I can’t breakdown now. There will be plenty of time for that later. Duffle in hand, I leave the house. Without a backward glance, I drive away from the place that’s been my refuge for nearly a year.
I have no idea where I’m going, but I can figure that out as I go. I’ve got a couple of stops before I can leave town. The first is to the bank, where I withdraw a scary large sum of cash. Jackie’s parents have connections in high places. I don’t want to risk using my debit card or credit card because they can be traced. I know how Jackie is when she wants something and she won’t give up until she finds me.
My next stop is to my parent’s lawyer’s office. He explains what I’ll need to do once I settle into a new place so that my trust deposits can be transferred from my current accounts. He also assures me that everything will remain confidential and that no matter what the Johns family tries, my location will remain anonymous. I thank him for his loyalty and he offers his assistance for whatever I need, no matter where I end up.
Back in my car, I drive. And drive some more. As my tires eat up the miles, I go back over everything that happened today. Confessing my love for Jenson to Jackie, realizing that I’m most likely pregnant, finding out that Jenson was using me as some kind of fucked up side piece, and making the decision to leave. Grief is a heavy weight on my shoulders and even though I’ve been on the road for five hours, I’m not ready to stop.
I make it two more hours before exhaustion kicks in and I have no choice but to stop and sleep. The last time I had to fill up my gas tank, I walked past the little section of personal health items inside the convenience store—the single pregnancy test on the shelf might as well have been showcased with bright blinking neon lights. I snatched it off the shelf along with the lone box of tissues, beef jerky, and three bags of gummy bears completed my purchase.
After I check into a cheap motel, I collapse on the bed fully dressed and fall into an exhausted slumber. A knock on the door wakes me and I have a moment of panic that somehow Jackie went all super-spy and found me already. It turns out to be housekeeping and I’d missed my one o’clock check out time. The lady must feel sorry for me because she offers to do the other rooms first so that I can shower and change.
I start pulling clothes out of my bag and the pregnancy test falls to the floor. With a shaky hand, I pick it up and contemplate if I am ready to kno
w or not. I chastise myself for being scared of the results. Regardless of if I take it right now or tomorrow or the next day, the outcome will be the same. Waiting will only give me more time to freak out.
So, I pee on a stick.
And wait…
And wait…
Slowly a faint pink plus sign appears in the window—pregnant. I’m pregnant with Jenson’s baby.
The panic I thought I would feel doesn’t come. I look down at my still flat stomach and gently rest my hands over the place where my baby rests. Our baby. A baby that was made in love, even if that love was one-sided. A baby that I know without a shadow of a doubt I want.
Within thirty minutes I’m back on the road and heading into my future.
8
Five Months Later
Jenson
I’ve been searching for Dylan for five excruciatingly long months and I’ve finally found her. Three private investigators working around the clock brokered no results. She disappeared like a dream. One minute she was there and everything seemed perfect, the next she was gone. I’ve been living a shadow of a life since she left and, according to Reg, have become a real bastard. But I’ve found her and now I’m on my way to get my girl back.
Whatever it takes, I’m not leaving without her.
“The pilot has turned off the fasten seatbelt sign—you are now free to move about the cabin.” The nasally voice of the flight attendant comes out of the overhead speakers.
I release the belt, hating the restriction. I stretch my tense muscles and then recline my seat, thankful for being able to snag the last first class ticket on the flight. The thought of spending five hours scrunched between two sweaty bodies while listening to babies cry in stereo, would have been enough to shove me over the edge of sanity.
Truth be told, I’m already skating that edge. Especially, when my thoughts drift to that day five months ago…
“Sweetheart, you’re home,” a voice that is most definitely not Dylan’s, coos from my bedroom.
“Emily,” I snarl. “What in the hell are you doing here? Better yet, how did you even get in?”
She slips from the bed and in what I assume she thinks is a sexy move, but in reality, it looks like a cross between a baby giraffe and a penguin walks across the room toward me. Her hands trailing down her naked body as if to further entice me. She stumbles forward in a calculated move made to get my hands on her, and it works because my hands reactively reach out to prevent her from falling.
She runs her hands down my abdomen, stopping just above my waistband. I jerk away from her, knocking her hands away in disgust. Her lips turn down in a pout and she takes a half-step to close some of the distance I’ve placed between us.
“Don’t be that way. You know you missed me,” she sniffles. “I’ve missed you.”
I don’t even try to hold in my laugh.
“Missed you? You are crazy. You’re supposed to be in Shorewood…”
“Hmph. That horrid place is no place for a woman in my condition.” She runs her hands down to her obviously curved stomach. “You should want better for your fiancée and son.”
It’s then that I notice the ring on her finger—Dylan’s ring. The ring I got from the safety deposit box last week. The ring I was going to give to Dylan tomorrow night when I tell her she’s going to be mine forever. And when I say I’m going to tell her—I mean just that—I won’t be asking, because no isn’t an option. She’s mine.
“Give me that ring.” My tone is deadly serious. I’m furious.
“No,” she says petulantly. “You’re not getting rid of me and our baby. I love you, Jenson. We’re going to be a family. Me, you, and little Jenson Junior.”
Heaven help me.
“You will return that ring; it isn’t for you. That baby is not mine and you know it’s not. You’re sick, Emily. Let’s call your parents so that they can come get you.”
I realize she’s mentally unstable and I don’t want to be cruel, but this is insanity.
One second Emily is on the verge of tears and the next she is staring daggers at me. The switch is so instantaneous that I practically get whiplash. When she rushes at me, her hand raised as if to slap me, I hardly have time to avoid the blow. I side-step and she stumbles into the bureau.
“You cheating bastard! It’s that little slut that was here isn’t it? She’s the reason that you’re abandoning me and your baby!” She screams, spittle flying from her lips. “Well, you can just forget all about her. She’s gone.”
“What do you mean gone?” The fine thread of my control is about to snap as I consider the possibilities. Cold fear slithers through my veins as I fully comprehend what Dylan not being here might mean. If she walked into this mess, there’s no telling what she might have thought. Especially since Emily can be so damn convincing.
“That little slut walked in here like she had every right,” she sniffs indignantly. “I packed her things and sent her away. She’s out of our lives for good. I forgive you, sweetheart. I know how hard it is for a man like you to be without the comforts of a woman’s body.” She says that last part with a sexy purr as she runs her fingertips provocatively up and down her chest—circling her finger around her areola.
A tap on my shoulder jerks me out of the memory.
“Sir, would you like a beverage?” The flight attendant leans in closer, practically shoving her breasts in my face.
“No.” I dismiss her, annoyed by the flirtation.
I relax back in my seat again, trying to shake off the dark thoughts that have plagued me since the day Dylan left, but it’s impossible. It plays like a loop in my mind.
Emily is being hauled out of the building in handcuffs. Apparently, she stabbed an orderly with a plastic fork she had broken into a makeshift shiv two nights ago. Then she escaped the mental hospital using his credentials.
Once I’m alone in the penthouse, I take in the changes. Dylan has been slowly making this place her home. Adding little touches here and there. Everything personal to her is gone. I feel the hard edges of the diamond cut into my palm from how hard I’m squeezing my fist around it. She didn’t have much since most of her things are in storage, but the few framed photos of her parents and the music box that was her mothers are gone.
Her side of the closet is nothing but empty hangers and the drawers are empty, save for a couple of my tee shirts she had claimed for her own.
Gone. She’s really gone.
I reach into my pocket for my phone and dial her number. It rings once before connecting to her voicemail. Her melodic voice asks me to leave a message.
“Dylan, call me.”
I hang up and send a text: Call me.
I’m out of the building and roaring from the parking lot before I even hit send. I dial and redial her number as I drive toward my parent’s place, hoping that is where she went. By the time I get to their house I’m desperate to see her. When I don’t see her car in the driveway, I practically lose it. With her missing and not answering my calls, I’m ready to go out of my mind.
I spot Jackie’s car in the garage and hope blooms in my chest. If anyone knows where Dylan is, it’s Jackie.
“You fucking bastard!” Jackie yells viciously. Tears streak her face and she’s holding a crumpled piece of paper in her hands. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
“It’s not what it looks like.” I explain the situation with Emily and slowly Jackie’s anger fades, only to be replaced by sadness. “Please, Jacks, please tell me where she’s at. I have to fix this. I have to.”
Jackie’s shaking her head in disbelief as she hands me the paper that was clenched in her fist.
Dear Jackie,
I’m so sorry for leaving without saying goodbye, but I can’t risk you talking me out of this. I came home to find Jenson’s pregnant fiancée in our bed. I knew it was too good to be true. I can’t stay now. I’ll never survive watching the man I love with another woman.
I’ll get in touch once I get settled somewhere
.
I love you.
Dyl
I look up from the paper, my vision so blurry I can hardly focus on the devastation written on my sister’s face. “We’ve got to find her. Where would she go?”
Until now, that’s been the million-dollar question.
9
Dylan
“Well, Miss Thomas, everything is right on track. The baby looks great and you’re fit as a fiddle.” The reassuring tone of Dr. Hastings breaks up the steady whooshing sound of my little boy’s heartbeat. My eyes are glued to the large screen on the wall where the image of my little man curled up inside my womb is displayed. His tiny thumb is in his mouth and his ten perfect little toes are clearly visible.
Tears prick my eyes and spill over as I take in the image before me. Dr. Hastings’ hand grips mine tightly. “No tears now girlie, all is well. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”
He’s an older man, late fifties at my best guess. He reminds me a lot of my dad and from the moment I walked into his office I felt a sense of security and comfort. His wife, Nora, is the receptionist and she took an instant liking to me. When she found out during my first appointment that I was staying at a local motel, she insisted on showing me their rental property. When I say insisted, I mean she carted me off directly after my appointment and refused to take no for an answer.
The little cottage style house was perfect. Two bedrooms and one bathroom with an open concept living room and kitchen area. It was tiny, but homey. A perfect oasis for my battered soul.
The first several weeks, I stayed holed up in my new place, only venturing out for groceries and necessities that I hadn’t brought with me. Since the house was fully furnished, I didn’t have to do much. It was the third week that Nora put a stop to my self-imposed solitude. Just like at my appointment, she didn’t take no for an answer, which is how I found myself working part-time at the town library three times a week.
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