by Moss, Brooke
Fletcher bent down at the side of my bed. “Lexie, it’s okay. She’ll come around.” When I didn’t respond, I heard him drag a hand through his hair and sigh. “I’ll talk to her. It’s my fault, anyway.”
I hiccupped. “She’s my friend. My business partner. I knew better than to be the kind of woman who would try to steal a man. No man is worth breaking up a friendship.”
Fletcher flinched. It was microscopic, so I barely saw it, but it was there. “If I had to do it all over again, I would have been with you seven months ago. I’m sorry.”
I didn’t say a word. Maybe it was the guilt. Maybe it was the sheer heaviness of what had happened that afternoon. Maybe it was hormones and a system still filled with morphine and whatever drug they give a person to numb their whole freaking body. But I turned my head away from Fletcher on the pillow instead.
“I need to think,” I whispered.
“Lexie,” my mother said softly.
“What?” Fletcher swallowed. “I… okay. So I’ll come back in a few hours, and then we’ll go see Ian.”
“No.” I closed my eyes, trying to block out my mother’s disappointed gaze. My thoughts were to jumbled. Too discombobulated to add hers in the mix. “I need some time. Give me time.”
“Time.” It wasn’t a question. Just a statement. I heard Fletcher stand back up. “All right. Time it is, then.”
The room once again went silent. After a few seconds, I felt Fletcher’s lips press to the top of my head. “You know where to find me when you’re ready.”
With the squeak of his shoes on the linoleum floor, he left the room. And when I opened my eyes, I discovered my family had filed out behind him. Only my mother remained, so I steeled myself for her opinion. Surely she had one.
Instead, she crossed the room and covered my tube-filled hand with her own. I curled into her soft body and wept, letting it all out. Not holding a thing back.
“I’m sorry.” I cried into her sweatshirt.
But Fletcher couldn’t hear that. He was gone.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Ian and I came home seven days later.
He was the perfect baby. Nursing like a champ, sleeping in between feedings, and doing this ridiculously cute smiling thing while he snoozed that made my uterus contract and my eyes immediately flow like a sprinkler system. Logically speaking, I knew he was just a typical baby. Eating, sleeping, pooping—you know, it was all in a day’s work. But the new mommy part of my brain convinced me that Ian would one day lead nations, cure cancer, and possibly even fly. Yes, he was that amazing.
And I adored him. He was the most incredible thing I’d ever done. My greatest “mistake” with the most amazing results ever. Sure, I’d spent the last eight and a half months hurling, growing, aching, crying, and suffering through mood swings that would have killed a lesser woman. But every time I heard that glorious squeaky cry, and felt Ian nuzzle into my neck as I burped him, I knew with everything inside of me that he’d been preordained to be mine. Ian was the new man in my life.
And as for the other man in my life?
Well, I hadn’t seen Fletcher since he walked out of my hospital room.
Even though I’d been distracted by learning how to care for Ian and recovering from surgery, Fletcher was never far from my thoughts. I thought about him as I fed Ian at night. I thought about him as I watched the cars rolling by on the highway through my window. I thought about him whenever someone in a white coat rushed past my door. My heart ached for Fletcher as much as it swelled with love for my son. He was the yin to my yang, the sparkly jumpsuit to my Elvis. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself without him, and I’d only really had him for a couple of weeks.
There were times when I swore I heard his voice in the hallway, discussing other patients with the nurses, and I’d silently prayed for him to come into my room. But he never did. Dr. Javornik performed all of my post partum care.
Fletcher had left the ball in my court. When I was ready, I knew where to find him. And so far I hadn’t been ready.
Marisol never came back to the hospital. Candace had gone to see her at Eats & Treats several times, but Marisol was unwilling to bend. I’d kissed Fletcher while they were still together. I’d broken the friend code.
It weighed on me. And the weight was so heavy. Every visit from friends and family felt empty without Marisol gliding into the room, announcing that she would never have children and that the nurses needed makeovers.
Between Ian, Fletcher, and Marisol, I’d shed more tears this past week than I had in my entire existence.
“Okay, let’s get you inside.” Andrea shut off her car engine, and unbuckled her seatbelt, bringing me out of my thoughts. We were outside of my little brownstone building, and my mother was grinning like Cheshire cat at my apartment door.
I smiled. “I’m home. With my son.”
“I know.” She squealed happily and clapped her hands. My sister-in-law needed to be a mother. Soon. “Can you believe it?”
Shaking my head, I unbuckled my own belt. “No. It’s very surreal. Last time I left my apartment, I was headed to an OB appointment.”
The image of Fletcher coming into the examination room and kissing me scrolled through my mind.
I needed to call him. I wanted to call him. Really, I did. But the fact that I’d lost Marisol over him made me feel so dirty. I didn’t deserve him. Not if it meant I couldn’t have my friend, too.
Hot tears made my eyes swim, and I bit my lip. I didn’t want to cry. Not again. I’d already cried twice on the way home from the hospital, and I only lived fifteen minutes away. “Hey,” I said to Andrea in a falsely cheerful voice that sounded very cartoonish. “Will you carry Ian’s car seat in?”
“Of course.” And almost as though Andrea was sensing my impending tears, she rubbed my shoulder. “Let Corbin help you out of the car, okay?”
Nodding, I opened my door. My older brother was waiting dutifully on the curb. I wasn’t allowed to lift anything heavier than Ian for the next few weeks, so my mother, brothers, and Andrea were taking turns staying with me. I couldn’t tell who out of the four of them was the most excited. I was just grateful. Only time would tell how grateful I would be in a few days when my tiny apartment felt even punier with a constant array of helpers around.
“Come on, Sis.” He held out his arm, and I grabbed it.
He hoisted me onto my feet, and I groaned when the incision area on my abdomen ached. “How many Cabbage Patch Kids has mom put in my apartment?”
Corbin snorted as we shuffled slowly up the sidewalk. “Just a couple. I think at least one of them is for Ian. The rest just came to keep her company.”
I stifled a laugh and waved at my mom. It wasn’t her fault she was crazy. And things with her had gotten much better since she came clean about her relationship with Pastor Irm. It was like she’d stopped trying so hard to make us all perfect and finally accepted us for who we were. The same way we’d started accepting her.
“I swear to you, if I come out of my bedroom and see one of those dolls staring at me in the night, I’m going to lose my cool.”
Corbin squeezed my arm. “Just text me, and I’ll come over to relieve her for a day or two, okay?”
“Got it.” I looked up at him. “Thanks, Corb.”
“You’re welcome.” He paused, and we halted on the cracked walk. “I have a secret.”
“What secret?” I asked as Andrea walked right past us with the baby. My mother was practically salivating, waiting for her chance to hold Ian. I’d always considered her to be a pretty intense mother, but I’d not yet seen what the first grandchild did to a person. “Spill it, Corbs. It’s on the tip of your tongue, and you know it.”
He grinned, and for an instant it reminded me of our father. “We got the call.”
I blinked. “What call?”
“The call.” He bounced in place a little.
I gasped. “They paired you with a child?”
Nodding, m
y brother’s eyes filled. “She’s almost two, and living in an orphanage in Gyeonggi.”
“I don’t know what you just said, but I’m so happy for you.” I threw my arms around him. “Ouch. Okay, no hugging just yet.”
“There will be plenty of hugging when she arrives.” Corbin took my arm again and we resumed walking. “Don’t tell Andrea I told you. She wants to wait until the whole family is all together, and Darren and Pandi are bringing dinner over tonight.”
“Darren and Pandi?” I snickered. “Hope you like Funyuns and beer.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said with a contented sigh. “So, have you called him yet?”
“Called who?” I played dumb, even though I knew Corbin was way too smart to fall for it.
“Cut the crap.” Corbin looked at me with a frown. “He loves you, you love him. He helped to save your life and Ian’s. What’s keeping you from picking up the phone and calling Fletcher?”
“Marisol.” When I said her name, my voice cracked.
“I see.” He drew a deep breath and we stopped walking again. “Listen, I don’t know Marisol as well as you do, but isn’t she sort of a serial dater? Hasn’t she, er, been around the block a few times?”
“She has.” I shook my head. “But that’s not the point. She really liked Fletcher, even if he didn’t feel the same way back. She was actually starting to consider a more traditional life.”
“Like fidelity?” He rolled his eyes.
I nudged him, tugging at my incision. “Ow. No. Well, yes. But other things, too. Like family and marriage. Things that would center her. I mean, not that you have to be married to be centered. But Marisol can’t live like a horny twenty-year-old her whole life.”
“Why not? Darren does.” Corbin laughed at his own joke. “Okay, sorry. I see your point. So when she was dating Fletcher, she fell in love.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from tearing up yet again. “Not quite that. But she was headed in that direction, I think. But Fletcher didn’t feel the same way towards her, because he had this weird magnet pull to me.”
“You can’t be held responsible for Fletcher not loving Marisol.” Corbin sighed. “It’s not your responsibility to put your life on hold for the sake of your friend.”
“You’re right,” I conceded. “But I had no business flirting with him, and going out of my way to see him, and…”
“Making out with him?” Corbin offered. “Good grief, Lex, you didn’t go to bed with the guy.”
“Ugh. I know.” I rubbed my eyes. “But had there been a bed there, and had we been alone, I don’t know what would have happened. Or if either one of us would have pulled the brakes.”
“Everyone loses control. You should have seen Andrea and I when we were dating. Mom’s couch will never be the same.” Corbin winced. “Do you have any idea how uncomfortable this is to discuss with my kid sister?”
“Shut up. We’re adults.” I laughed, and a tear—or two—spilled over. “I know everyone loses control, but losing control with a guy who’s dating one of your best friends is completely wrong.”
“Who also happens to be the man who loves you?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts.” Corbin faced me. “I’ve seen you get hurt, repeatedly, by your ex husband, who also left you high and dry with no money in your bank account and no self-esteem. You picked yourself back up, got a business loan, started your own successful company, and slowly put your life back together. All without a man.” His frown melted into a proud smile. “You don’t spend your time searching for a new husband like so many women do. You don’t jump from bed to bed. You aren’t a serial dater. You spend most of your time alone, and you’re completely okay with it. Andrea and I have been so impressed with you. You’re a hero.”
My mouth was open. I was in shock. My family wasn’t exactly prone to spontaneous bouts of openness and affection. I started to reply, but Corbin kept talking.
“You’re right,” he said. “You and Fletcher were wrong to kiss while he was still with Marisol, and for that you have to ask your friend to forgive you. And then you have to accept her decision. If she decides never to forgive you, and to remain pissed off until the day she dies, that’s something you have to live with.” He put his hands on my shoulders. I could see my mom and Andrea staring at us through the front window with curious expressions. “But know this. I wouldn’t trade my years with Andrea for anything. Anything. My time with her, and our love for each another, is the best thing I’ve got in my life. She builds me up, brings me back to earth, encourages me, calls me on my BS, laughs at all of my jokes, keeps me warm on the darkest nights, and nobody—nobody—can love me the way that she does. She’s my whole world. And my kid sister deserves the same.”
Well, crap. I leaned forward, until my face was against my brother’s chest. My tears soaked his jacket, and he wrapped his arms around me. “Oh, kiddo,” he sighed resting his chin on my head. “Don’t give up the person who loves you like that just because you feel guilty. In this one instance, you really can have your cake and eat it, too. Do you understand that?”
“Yes.” I sniffled. I did understand what Corbin was trying to explain. I didn’t know what I was going to do with it, but I’d heard him loud and clear. I deserved love as much as anybody else did. “Thank you, Corbs.”
He released me. “You’re welcome.”
“Hey!” Our mother’s voice rang out from the doorway. “Don’t make her cry. She just had a baby. Why are you picking on your sister?”
Corbin put his hands up. “I’m not, Ma.”
“Sure.” She leveled him with a disapproving stare, then held her hands out to me. “Get your nipples in here, dear. The baby needs to be fed.”
“Oh, good Lord.” Corbin cast a pleading glance at his wife, who was bouncing Ian on her shoulder in the doorway. “Can you keep my mom at bay?”
“Not a chance,” Andrea giggled.
I took my mother’s hand and let her guide me into my apartment. Corbin was right. I did deserve the kind of love he and Andrea had. And I would consider what he’d said about having my cake and eating it, too.
***
The doorbell rang, jolting me out of sleep. I’d been sleeping on the couch, curled up with Ian, for a couple of hours since Andrea and Corbin left. “I’ll get it,” I mumbled, looking around in a daze.
“You stay there.” My mother got out of the nearby rocking chair where she’d been grooming one of her dolls while QVC played quietly on the television. “That little one is going to wake up hungry soon, so enjoy the peace.”
Pressing a kiss to Ian’s head, I drew in a deep breath of his irresistible new-baby scent. “Okay, then.”
When she opened the door, a burst of cool air swept into my apartment. I heard my mother say, “Oh, it’s you. I’m so glad you came.”
Pastor Irm, I thought to myself, smirking and pulling Ian even closer. I knew she wasn’t going to be able to go much longer without seeing her Boy Toy. I was actually starting to get used to seeing them together, and as weird as it was to admit, they were pretty cute.
“Thank you, Patsy. Candace told me that Lexie’s home now.”
My eyes popped open. I knew that voice. That deep, sultry tone. The slight Latin accent that made men fall all over themselves.
Marisol was here.
“Lexie, you have a guest.” My mother came around the corner, wringing her hands. She mouthed the words, It’s Marisol.
My still puffy stomach flip-flopped, and I struggled to sit up. Ian was snoring in my right arm, so I used my left arm to try to smooth down my hair, which was likely standing in all directions.
“I, um.” I didn’t want to do this now. I didn’t want to see the person who hated me most in this world. I was too hormonal. Too emotional. “I don’t know if this is a good time.”
“Oh shut up and let me in. It’s the least you can do.” Marisol breezed past my mother and stood before me, a giant blue and white floral arrangement
in her hands. It looked like it could have easily cost a few hundred dollars.
My mom’s eyes darted between Marisol’s face and mine a few times before announcing, “I’m going to go check on the minestrone.”
And with that, she darted into the kitchen to fiddle with the soup she’d made. What a chicken.
A second passed. Then two. Then three. Marisol finally wiggled the arrangement. “Well, here.”
“Oh, sorry. Just set them on the coffee table.” She put them down with a plunk, then folded her arms across her chest. The arrangement was almost the same width as the table. “Wow,” I breathed. “That’s gorgeous. Thank you.”
“Oh, get over yourself. They’re for Ian.” She rolled her eyes and looked around, clearly uncomfortable.
I swallowed. I deserved her bitchiness. “Do you want to sit down?”
Marisol sat down stiffly. She watched Ian in my arms for a few moments. He was starting to wake up, and was squirming and unfolding himself from his bean-like position. “He really is something, isn’t he?” she finally said. “He’s so tiny.”
I beamed down at my baby. “I’m pretty fond of him.”
“Well, it’s a good thing, huh?” She laughed and fiddled with her earring. “Because the return policy on those things is a real pain.”
I avoided her eyes. It was difficult to apologize to someone when they were notorious for saying the absolute wrong thing.
Marisol shifted in her seat, then cleared her throat quietly. “So, Candace says we need to talk.”
I brought my eyes back up to hers and sighed. “She’s right. We do.”
“Well then.” Marisol blinked a few times. “Let’s get this over with.”
