Every Heartache (The Hopeless Love Series Book 2)

by Nia Arthurs

  Both Kent and I bypass the couches and head to the kitchen where the sound of warm laughter echoes through the house. We turn the corner and see Zora and Amaya setting the table and chatting.

  My eyes linger on Zora. She’s changed out of her scrubs to a pair of yoga pants beneath an oversized T-shirt. She looks soft and happy, two things I never associated with her before.

  “Where’s the food?” Kent asks, climbing around the table.

  There’s a knock on the door and Zora perks up. “It’s here.”

  “Can you help her please, Wilson?” Amaya juts her chin out toward Zora who’s making a beeline for the door. “We ordered a lot.”

  “Sure.” I stroll to the front door where Zora is laughing with the delivery guy.

  My eyes narrow. What’s so funny?

  “Thank you, Sam.” She tosses her head so her straight hair flails behind her. “How much will it be?”

  As Zora dives for her purse, I slide up to the door and jerk it wide open. “Hey, babe. Need some help?”

  “B-babe?” Zora skitters and drops her purse on the floor.

  I stoop, pick it up and hand it back to her. Then I turn to the chicken delivery guy. He’s a young punk, maybe twenty or twenty one. He eyes me up and down like I’m stepping on his territory.

  “I’ll take that.” I accept the bags from him, staring him straight in the eyes. “Thanks, man.”

  Zora hands him the money. “Here. See you next time, Sam.”

  I just stand strong and tall behind her, looking as intimidating as possible while she locks the door.

  As soon as it clicks shut, Zora whirls on me. “What was that?”

  “That?” I shrug. “A chicken delivery guy. If you’re asking about his ethnicity, then that’s a rude way to go about it, but I’d say he’s Hispanic mixed with a little Asian—”

  “You know what I mean!” she hisses.

  I grin because getting her flustered is, somehow, extremely enjoyable to me. “You’re a single woman living alone. Punks like that might take advantage.”

  “So you acted like my boyfriend to ‘protect’ me?”

  “Exactly.”

  She scoffs and flounces to the kitchen.

  “Zora…” I follow her, knowing I need to stop grinning if I want to make any sincere apologies.

  Amaya glances up when we storm in. She takes one look at us and puts a hand on her hip. “Are you two fighting again?”

  “Kent,” Zora arches an eyebrow and hooks a finger at me, “you didn’t do a good job beating sense into this guy. Try again tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Kent dips his head.

  “Hey!”

  “You heard the woman. It’s you and me tomorrow, Will. Behind the gym. Three o’clock. I’ll write it in my journal so I don’t forget.”

  “And I’ll remind him,” Amaya says, planting a big kiss on his lips.

  “Could you two try to keep your hands off each other while you’re in my house?” Zora whines.

  “Sorry.” Amaya’s grin reveals she’s anything but.

  That night, we feast on fried chicken and I get to boast about the baby and how much it already looks like me, to which Zora calls me delusional and tries to argue that it looks like her.

  It’s a great time even though, at the end of the night, Kent and I are the ones stuck with cleaning duty.

  “We’ve been bamboozled,” I mumble as I swipe the green sponge around a bowl.

  Kent leans in. “Sh, they might hear you.”

  “I’m not afraid of them.” I glance over my shoulder just to check. Amaya and Zora are parked in the living room watching TV.

  Kent accepts the bowl from me and rinses it. “Are you going to keep living in Belize even after the baby comes?”

  “I haven’t planned that far. Right now, I just want to be there for Zora and get this new app rolling. I still have seven months until the due date so I can plan exactly what I’ll do next.”

  “What about Violet?”

  I wince. “What about her?”

  “I may have lost my memory, but I remember Violet. She wouldn’t be happy to date a man with a child.”

  “Yeah, Violet and I… we broke up.”

  The bowl plops into the sink. “What?”

  “Shocker, right?”

  Kent grabs the bowl and tosses it into the drainer. “You two always get back together. Your relationship drama is written all over my app.”

  “No, not this time.”

  “Why?” Kent studies me. “Did she find someone else?”

  “I wish she did. Maybe then I could hate the guy.”

  Kent’s eyes pool with understanding. He glances down. “I’m sorry.”

  “Whatever. I’m keeping myself busy so I don’t have to think about it.”

  “I knew it.”

  “Knew what?”

  “There’s no way a grown man should know that much about babies.” Kent turns to me. “The baby, Zora—you’re using them to distract you from Violet.”

  “Right…”

  “You always do that,” Kent says confidently. Like he doesn’t suffer from amnesia. “Don’t look at me like that. The last four years might be wiped, but I remember when you and Violet used to break up in high school. You’d suddenly get super focused on learning guitar or earning money. It was hilarious.”

  Kent’s right. I had a tendency of burying my head in a hobby so I could turn my brain off and focus on something other than my relationship.

  “Maybe I just wanted to be a well-rounded person. Have you thought of that?”

  He snorts. “Admit it. You’re broken up about Violet and you’re using the pregnancy to get over it.”

  “Alright. Fine. You got me. Now shut up before Zora hears.”

  Kent grins in victory while I focus on washing the next bowl buried in the soapy suds. A moment later, Zora strolls into the kitchen, a smile on her face.

  “You guys done yet?”

  “No.” Kent groans when she deposits a bunch of cups near my elbow. “More?”

  “You’re welcome. When you’re done, please clean the counters. Someone,” she arches an eyebrow at me, “spilled the sweet and sour sauce.”

  “I’ll do it.” I massage Kent’s back.

  “Slave driver,” he mumbles.

  Zora blows him a kiss and sashays out.

  Kent and I work to clean the kitchen, then we all leave so Zora can rest. I’m the last to go and, since I live right across the hall, I take the time to check her locks and ensure they’re all secure.

  Last year, Amaya’s house got broken into. It would be so easy to shimmy Zora’s locks and break in. I need to remember to buy her that deadbolt and home alarm system.

  She leans against the wall and watches me, one foot propped in front of the other. “Wilson, there’s no way anyone is breaking in. You can stop fussing.”

  “I’m just making sure. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Dr. Carla said everything with the baby’s on track. You have nothing to worry about.” She yawns. “It’s late and I have to wake up early tomorrow.”

  “I heard nurses have it rough.”

  She smiles.

  “When are you going to stop working?”

  Zora tilts her head. “When it’s too tough to handle. It’s okay right now though. Thank you for asking.”

  I smile. “Why are you being so polite?”

  “I’m always polite.”

  “Not with me.”

  “You’re the father of my child. I have to be civil.” She points to the door. “Goodnight.”

  I walk out of her apartment and head into my own. Zora’s words bother me for some reason, but I can’t put my finger on why and eventually, I give up and fall asleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  Zora

  I avoid my apartment over the next few days. It’s easy enough to do. My twelve-hour shifts demand that I live at the hospital anyway. I sleep, eat and shower there, often ducking out to extend my sh
ifts.

  Wilson calls me a few times, but he doesn’t demand I come home. He doesn’t have the right to. We both know that.

  Still, I can tell he’s concerned about my work schedule, and—to be honest—I’m exhausted. But I can’t go back to that apartment. Not while he’s staying in the room across the hall.

  Last week, I overheard Kent and Wilson talking in the kitchen. They didn’t know I was there, which worked out because I overheard something important.

  Wilson and Violet broke up.

  It shouldn’t have surprised me. The way that man lives for Violet, it makes sense that he’d only move thousands of miles away from her if she didn’t want to see him again.

  What really hurt—more than I care to admit—was Wilson calling me a ‘distraction’. Suddenly, his enthusiasm about the birth and his sweetness toward me made sense.

  His attentiveness wasn’t because he was interested in my welfare. He was just enjoying a convenient diversion.

  It was the kick to the butt that I needed.

  Now, I’m even more determined to steel myself against Wilson’s gallant, but empty gestures. I can’t let him get to me. Can’t let him… oh, who am I kidding?

  I already find him attractive. And I’m moved whenever he does something thoughtful. My options are limited. Since I have no control over Wilson, the only thing I can change is myself.

  So I’m working on it, but for now avoiding him is a temporary solution.

  “Zora?” Gretchen raps on the break room door, breaking into my thoughts. “You busy?”

  “Huh? What’s up?”

  “Your brother’s here. Says he wants to talk to you.”

  “Thanks, Gretchen.”

  “Sure thing.” She pokes her head out of the room and then jumps back in. “Hey, how’s your sexy boyfriend doing?”

  “Boyfriend?”

  “The white guy is your boyfriend, right? Last week, he said you two were involved.”

  I almost smile. “I guess we are, but it’s not what you think.”

  “I see.” Her eyes glimmer with intrigue. “Whenever you want to talk, I’m here.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  My smile droops when she leaves. It’d have to be a cold day in you-know-where before I tell Gretchen my personal business. Anything I share with her will be common knowledge by evening.

  I straighten, slip my feet into my tennis shoes and brush my scrubs down. Thomas and I haven’t spoken in a while. I gave him his distance after our last conversation. My brother needed to calm down and so did I.

  But I miss him.

  “Thomas!” I wave when I see him standing in the hospital cafeteria.

  His hands are stuck in his jeans and he grins softly, transforming his already handsome face. “Hey, Zo.”

  Unmindful of everyone staring, I throw my arms around him and squeeze tight. He smells familiar, like home. Tears spring to my eyes.

  I am not a crier and, as I step back, I chuckle in embarrassment. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “You’re pregnant.”

  I give him a look.

  He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not trying to imply that there’s something wrong with being—I meant, you’re pregnant so your hormones might act up now and again. At least that’s what I read.”

  “You read up about pregnancy?”

  “I might be the only father figure this kid ever has. I thought I should be there for you in anyway I can.”

  “Oh, Thomas.” I shake my head. “That’s the sweetest, most unnecessary thing you could say. Trust me, Wilson’s not leaving this baby behind.” He’d leave me in a heartbeat though.

  Which is his right to do. It’s not like we’re together.

  “Shall we sit?” Thomas points to the booths.

  “Okay.” We settle in and I clasp my hands together. “You look great.”

  “Yeah, work hasn’t been stressing me out as much lately.”

  “Well, it shows.”

  Thomas bobs his head and seems to search for the right words. I let him be and focus on his face. His eyes are free of their usual bags and he looks, I don’t know, happier somehow.

  “I wanted to apologize for what happened last time. You’re right. I had good intentions, but I should have talked to you before bringing marriage into the conversation.”

  “It’s okay. You were only doing what you thought was best.”

  “I was being controlling and selfish. You forgive me?”

  “Of course.” I squeeze his hand. “You’re the only one on my side.”

  He arches an eyebrow. “By that comment, I’m guessing you and Wilson aren’t getting along.”

  I glance away. “We’re getting along great. Better than ever.”

  “But…?”

  I make a face. It sucks that Thomas knows me so well. “It’s not real.”

  “Is he being fake? Disingenuous?”

  “No, I mean I think he cares about me and he definitely loves the baby, but it feels like I’m a stand-in. Like he’s only putting up with me because I happened to be the one he conceived with.”

  “I hate to point this out but… isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, but I have a right to think it sucks.”

  “You like him,” Thomas says it definitively, like it’s a known fact.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “It’s okay. You’re not the first girl to catch feelings for the man you randomly slept with.”

  “I didn’t catch feelings and, anyway, Wilson’s taken.”

  Thomas stiffens. “Did you know that when my niece or nephew was conceived?”

  “He wasn’t dating Violet then. I mean, I don’t think so…”

  “Wow, Zo.”

  I cringe. “It doesn’t matter now. They broke up.”

  “Lucky girl,” Thomas mumbles.

  “Are you here to make up or start another fight?”

  Thomas shrugs. “Can’t handle the truth, stay out of the kitchen.”

  “Well, thanks for stopping by.” I stand. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

  Thomas chuckles. “I’m just joking, Zo. Your shift’s done, right? I’ll take you home.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to.” He pulls his keys out of his pocket. “You look tired. I’ll wait in the parking lot. Come out when you’ve packed all your things.”

  “But—”

  Thomas rises and strolls away from the table, drawing the eyes of every female in his wake.

  I slump into my chair. There’s no way I’m telling my brother that I can’t go home because Wilson moved in. That’s like feeding a wild and raging forest fire with more wood. Thomas doesn’t need any more reasons to hate Wilson.

  I sigh and pack my stuff, joining Thomas in the car. On the way over, he regales me with tales about his co-workers. I laugh at his animated voice and expressions.

  What’s gotten into him? I haven’t seen Thomas act this giddy since he broke up with Amaya. She crushed his heart, and I feared it would never heal.

  Maybe it has. Maybe he’s moved on.

  Maybe Wilson can move on too.

  The thought shames me and excites me all in one breath. It’s foolish to hope. That’s exactly how Wilson got himself involved with Violet again after she told him, point blank, she had feelings for another man.

  But even if Wilson’s unable to get over his first love, my brother doesn’t seem to be suffering from the same problem.

  “Zo, are you even listening?” Thomas chuckles. “Am I that boring?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to zone out.”

  “It’s okay. You must be exhausted. Gretchen mentioned you’d been sleeping at the hospital lately.” He sends me a disapproving look. “You know you can slow down. No one’s going to look at you any different because you’re expecting.”

  “I know.” I study his handsome face. Even in the darkness, it looks like he’s glowing. “W
ho is she?”

  He startles. “What?”

  “The girl you’re seeing. Who is she?”

  Thomas ducks. “How’d you know?”

  “Womanly instincts. That and the fact that you’re grinning like a hyena.”

  “We’re not that serious yet.” Thomas readjusts his fingers over the steering wheel.

  “Still, that’s great. You deserve to be happy.”

  He shrugs. “I saw some of the pictures Amaya posted online and I realized I’m never getting her back. Instead of sitting down feeling pathetic, I figured I’d give love another shot.”

  “When can I meet her?”

  “Not anytime soon. Like I said, we’re just talking right now. Feeling each other out. No pressure.”

  “Just… don’t get her pregnant. Pressure turns way up at that point.”

  “Ha, ha.” He parks in front of my apartment. “I’ll walk you up.”

  The prospect frightens me. “No need for that.”

  “Stop stalling, Zo. I’ve got stuff I need to get done at home.”

  I wince but obediently slide out of the car and let Thomas escort me up the stairs. The moment we near my door, I send nervous glances at Wilson’s apartment.

  Please don’t come outside. Please don’t come outside.

  “What’s wrong?” Thomas looks over his shoulder at where I’m staring. “Did someone finally rent that old room?”

  “No,” I lie through my teeth and grab for my keys.

  In direct defiance to my statement, Wilson’s door bursts open and he storms out. “Zora, I was starting to think you—” he catches sight of Thomas and the word falters, “moved.”

  “Wilson,” Thomas says coldly.

  Wilson responds with the same level of ice. “Hey.”

  “Well,” I turn to my brother, “you should probably get going. Bye!” I try to push him toward the stairs.

  Thomas resists me. “What is he doing coming out of there?”

  “It’s my apartment,” Wilson says.

  “What?” Thomas swivels toward me. “When were you going to tell me that jerk moved in?”

  “It’s not like he moved into my place. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Yes, it is.” Thomas goes full, over-protective big brother mode and points in Wilson’s face. “Move out.”