by Wade, Ellie
I draw in a breath as an enormous wave of love envelops me. The precious boy grabs ahold of my pinkie with more force than such a tiny human should have. He’s strong. He’s perfect. And, though I’ve just met him, I know I’ll love him forever.
“Do you want to hear his name?” Sarah asks.
“You decided?” I grin.
“I sure did. His name is Evan Loïc Berkeley.”
“Evan,” I say softly as baby Evan wraps his tiny fingers around my thumb.
“I couldn’t get the name Evan out of my head. I kept coming back to it. And then, of course, I decided to name him after the man who has loved me more than anyone else. If you hadn’t saved me over and over, I wouldn’t even be here to be his mommy. I want him to be strong and brave, like you.”
“Thank you, Sarah.” I look to her beautiful but tired face.
It’s hard to wrap my mind around everything she and I have gone through together. We’ve been through hell and back. Yet it was all worth it because, now, we have this little guy here.
“I’m going to be the best uncle ever,” I say to her as I place Evan back in her arms.
“Yeah,” she agrees softly.
But I don’t miss the edge of disappointment I hear in her voice.
London
“I don’t want to be with anyone else until I can give him my whole heart, and right now, it belongs to someone else.”
—London Wright
The waiter refills my iced tea, and I thank him before I continue my conversation with Brad. I’m reading off the notes from my phone. “So, then I’ll interview the parents and discuss her plans for Tokyo?”
“Yes, that sounds good,” Brad answers.
I’m interviewing a swimmer from Los Angeles who won a gold medal at the summer Olympics in Rio. The title of the article is going to be “Life After the Games.” Of course, I want to talk to her parents and get some sweet story from when she was young. Readers eat that stuff up. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I will score a photo of her at three with a swim cap on, and her parents will tell me, Her very first words were gold medal. I laugh to myself.
“What’s so funny over there?” Brad asks from beside me.
“Nothing. Just thinking.”
“You’re going to have the shoe story ready, right?” he asks.
“Oh, yes. This story is right up my alley. You sure I shouldn’t be buying a few pairs on the company’s dime? You know, for research purposes.” I give Brad a smirk.
It’s the end of November, and shoppers have already started buying Christmas presents. I’m running a story on the most in-demand shoes and where to find them. Tomorrow, I’ll get to spend my day going from boutique to boutique, checking out heels.
How amazing is that?
“Sorry, it’s not in our budget. No new shoes for you.” Brad shakes his head with a grin.
“Oh, I’ll be getting some new heels. I’ll buy them with my own hard-earned money.” I wink.
“Like you need more.”
“Oh, a girl always needs more shoes, Brad. You should know this by now.”
“Well, all right. So then, your other stories are already turned in?”
“Correct.” I nod.
The waiter comes with our food. I adore the way they present the food here. My southwest chicken wrap has flowers drawn on the plate with guacamole sauce. It’s so cute. This is definitely my favorite little café. Kate and I eat here several times a week. Plus, it helps that it’s right next to my apartment. It has this adorable terrace area out front with tables where we always choose to sit. It’s pretty awesome that we can sit outside to eat in late November.
Brad shovels his steak salad in his mouth.
“Whoa, slow down there, boss.” I laugh.
“Sorry, I have to meet Elizabeth across town in an hour. So, I have to go soon.”
My face lights up with interest. “This is, like, date number…three?”
“Yeah.” He nods.
“So, you like her?”
“I think so.” He shrugs. “I could see dating her. So…if there’s anything you want to confess…now would be the time.”
He raises an eyebrow, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Like my undying love for you?”
“Exactly,” he says.
“Nope. Nothing to confess.” I shake my head.
“Bummer.”
Ever since I confronted Brad back in August, the dynamic of our relationship has changed. He still flirts on occasion, but he is always very respectful. Actually, besides Kate, he’s the best friend I have here.
“So, you said the D word. Does that mean you like her for more than just a hook-up?”
“You mean, date?” He chuckles.
I take a sip of my iced tea. “Yeah.”
“Well, we’ve already hooked up, and I still want to see her again, so…I suppose.”
“You’re such a pig.”
“What? I’m just being honest.”
I press my lips in a flat line. “Mmhmm.”
“I’m serious here, London. If things go well, I could be off the market. You know you’re still my number one. You sure you don’t want to reconsider our relationship parameters?” He smirks, a salacious look in his eyes.
“Seriously, your poor mother. How did she ever give birth to someone with such a big head?”
He ignores my attempt at a joke. “Is it still the military dude?”
“His name is Loïc. And, no, not really.”
“So, it’s me?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not you.”
“So, it’s the dude then. You’re not over him. Hasn’t it been, like, a year?”
“Almost—at least, since I last saw him. But we technically broke up in May—or maybe, if you ask him, April through an email.”
“That’s real considerate of him. And you haven’t spoken to him since?”
“Nope.”
“London, it’s time to move on. Seriously. If not with me, then with someone else. Why are you sitting around, waiting for someone who doesn’t love you? You are a stunning woman. You’re smart, witty, and fucking hot. You could have almost anyone you wanted.”
“I’m not waiting for him. I know it’s over. But I don’t want anyone else—at the moment. It’s fine, Brad. I’m focusing on my career and my independence right now. I don’t need a man to be happy. Plus…” I start to stay before I stop myself.
“Plus what?”
I look down at my half-eaten wrap. “I don’t want to be with anyone else until I can give him my whole heart, and right now, it belongs to someone else.”
Brad lets out a small grunt. “This Loïc dude must be a fucking idiot.”
“He’s not. It’s…I don’t know. He was my first real love. I’m having a hard time with letting him go, I guess.”
“I really hate that douche for messing you up for the rest of us,” Brad huffs out.
I can’t help but smile. “You’d better go. You’ll be late for Elizabeth.”
Brad throws a fifty down on the table and stands. “All right. Sorry to eat and run. Your stories sound great. Can’t wait to see the finished versions.”
“Thanks.”
He starts to leave but stops when he’s next to me. He bends down, and with one hand, he grabs the back of my head and leans in, pulling me into a kiss. It’s short and sweet and completely unexpected.
His lips pull away from mine, but his face remains a breath away. “Anything? Did you feel anything?” he asks.
“Nope,” I whisper.
“Damn,” he sighs. He stands up, releasing my head. “I had to try one more time.” He smiles. “Please don’t come into my office and chew me out tomorrow. I promise I won’t do it again.” He winks.
“I won’t yell at you, and you won’t do it again.” I smile at him, but he knows I’m serious.
“Okay. See you tomorrow, London.”
“Sounds good. Give my best to Elizabeth.” I grin wide.
“Wi
ll do,” he says before walking away.
I take a couple of additional bites of my wrap before calling it a night, and I pay the bill. But I’m in no hurry to leave. Kate isn’t home from the office yet, and it’s such a gorgeous night.
I lean back in my chair and watch the people around me, the cars going by, the sun as it descends into the horizon.
Turning toward the restaurant, I catch a glimpse of myself in the storefront window. I barely recognize myself anymore. In my reflection, I see someone with strength, confidence, and happiness. All are a true testament to how far I’ve come. Appearing whole is quite a feat when, inside, I still feel so very broken.
Life goes on, and there is no better place to drive that sentiment home than in LA. Everything is fast-paced here. If I didn’t acclimate, I’d have gotten lost.
And I realize that failing isn’t an option. I need this success.
So, I move on. I adapt. I smile. Most importantly, I work hard.
And I pretend that I don’t scan the faces of everyone I pass in hopes of seeing him.
You’re doing okay, I tell myself. You’re doing really great.
I have a job that I love. I haven’t touched my trust fund in six months. I’m an independent woman, living a life I can be proud of. I’ve met some great new people.
Despite my shattered heart, I’m happy. Truthfully, I don’t know if my heart will ever heal. They say that time heals all wounds, so I’m hopeful.
Goose bumps pebble across my skin.
Sometimes, when I’m thinking of Loïc, I can almost feel him. If I didn’t know better, I would swear that he’s here with me. I suppose, in a way, he is. They say the ones you truly love never really leave you. Though life might be easier if they did.
Loïc
“I never thought I’d see the day when I thought someone’s spit was adorable.”
—Loïc Berkeley
“Oh my gosh! Look at him in this Santa hat, Loïc,” Sarah says to me before saying to Evan in a baby voice, “You got the chubby cheeks. Yes, you do. You’re the chubbiest and the cutest.”
“He’s pretty damn cute,” I agree.
Evan will be four months old tomorrow, and he really is a beautiful baby. His wrist and ankle rolls along with his double chin that loves to collect drool just add to his cuteness. He smiles all the time and has just started laughing, which might be my favorite sound in the world.
“It’s your first Christmas, and you are the cutest Santa baby Mommy ever did see,” Sarah coos.
She bounces Evan on her knee, and he belly-laughs in his Santa romper.
Life in the Berkeley home is pretty great. Sarah hasn’t gone back to work yet. I told her to stay home and be with Evan for as long as she wants. The house is paid off, and our bills are minimal. There’s no reason for her to miss out on time with Evan. He’s growing so fast, and I want her to be able to experience all of it.
She’s an amazing mom, just like I knew she would be. I know she wants to give Evan everything that she didn’t have, and she’s already doing a great job. Maggie and her family have adopted Sarah and Evan as their own as well. He is one loved little boy. There’s just something about a baby that mends broken hearts.
Each week, I continue to go to multiple types of therapy—individual and support groups. I’ve even started to lead some of the group sessions. I feel pretty good now, but I know it’s because of the medication I’m on and all the therapy. I’m always going to be someone with PTSD. It will get more manageable over time, but it’ll always be there. I’m fortunate that I got help before it dragged me too far down. Eventually, I hope to be well enough to help other veterans get the help they need.
“What a great Christmas. I love our little family!” Sarah exclaims as she snaps some photos of Evan.
“Do you want to see if he can open one of his presents?” I ask her.
“Sure.” She sets Evan on her lap and puts a box in front of him. “Here you go, buddy. Like this.” She demonstrates how to rip off the paper.
Evan gurgles and coos and drops a glob of drool on top of the box, but he doesn’t do much more. I never thought I’d see the day when I thought someone’s spit was adorable.
“Look, bud. See? Like this.” I slowly rip the paper off of his wrapped toy. “Rip the paper. Rip the paper,” I chant in a silly voice.
Evan giggles and flails his arms. He hits the present, but I think it was just because it was in his way.
“He’ll get it next year,” I say to Sarah with a chuckle.
“Yeah. More for us to unwrap, I guess.” She grins. “Here, let’s take a family selfie.”
I position myself close to her. She holds her cell phone out and takes a photo of the three of us. Evan even smiles for it, but he’s always smiling.
“Aw, that’s a total framer,” she says, admiring the photo.
After opening presents, we eat the delicious cinnamon rolls that Sarah made, and then she heads to Evan’s room to put him down for his first nap of the day.
I make quick calls to Maggie, Cooper’s family, and Dixon.
I reached out to him back in July when I decided to get some help. He’s become a real friend, calling and checking in with me a couple of times a week.
“He was tired,” Sarah says, entering the room. “Being so precious is exhausting.”
She plops down next to me on the sofa. “I love you,” she says, leaning her head against my shoulder with a happy sigh.
“I love you, too.”
“Marry me, Loïc.”
My body freezes. “Sarah,” I say on an exhale.
“I know, I know.” She sits up to look at me. “We’re family. You love me like a sister. Blah, blah, blah. I know.” She lets out a frustrated groan. “But it could be so much more, if you’d just try.”
“Sarah…”
“No, listen to me. We live together. We’re raising the most amazing little boy together. We’ve each seen the other at their worst and loved them anyway. No one loves me like you do, Loïc, and no one will ever love or understand you the way I do. You see me as a sister because that’s what you allow yourself to see. Just try seeing me another way. Try opening your heart up for more. Just try.” Her big blue eyes stare into mine, pleading.
Closing my eyes, I bring my hand to my forehead and rub my temple, thinking. If things were different and there had never been a London, then…maybe. Perhaps I could have learned to love Sarah differently.
But London did happen, and now, I know what it feels like to be truly in love with someone else.
“I can’t do that to you.” I hold Sarah’s hands in mine. “I love you, Sarah…so much. I would do anything for you; you know that. But I can’t take away your chance at real love. I will never love you in the way a husband should love his wife. I could fake it, but that wouldn’t be fair to either of us. You’re a beautiful, wonderful woman with so much to offer. You deserve your happily ever after. I won’t take that away from you. You’ll find it. I promise.”
“But I already have my fairy tale. You and Evan are my life. I don’t want anything else.” Her voice quivers.
“If you think that, it’s because you’ve never truly been in love. I have, and I know the difference.”
“If life was so great with London, then why aren’t you with her now? If it were true love, then it would have lasted, Loïc. The longest-lasting relationship in your life is me.” She points her finger toward her chest. “I’m the one for you. Me.”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly.
“Why are you so stubborn?” she yells. “Why can’t you see what you have?”
“What do you want me to do here?” I groan.
“I want you to marry me. I want to be a real family.”
“We are a family already. I will always be Evan’s uncle. I will always be here for you, but I can’t love you like that, Sarah. I can’t.”
Sarah stands. “God, I hate you!” she cries.
I rise from the couch and pull her into my arms
as she cries. “I wish I could give you more. I’m sorry.”
“Eventually, you’ll see. You’ll realize.” She sniffles into my chest.
If there were never a London, lots of things would be different. But London happened, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to pretend she didn’t.
London
Eight Months Later
“I don’t care about yesterday. All I want is tomorrow and the day after that.”
—London Wright
I’m putting the finishing touches on my mascara when Kate pops her head in the bathroom.
“I thought you had this weekend off?”
“I was supposed to. The new girl, Ginger, was supposed to be covering this story. But, apparently, she flaked out and set sail on a booze cruise for the weekend.”
“What’s a booze cruise?” Kate asks.
I laugh. “Exactly what it sounds like—a cruise ship with lots of drinking.”
“And she just ditched her story?”
“Well, when Brad hires a woman just because he wants to sleep with her…what do you expect?” I roll my eyes.
“So, she’s not the best employee?”
“Hardly,” I scoff with a shake of my head.
“Well, he hired you because he wanted to sleep with you,” she reminds me.
“Obviously, I’m the exception to the rule.” I chuckle. “Anyway, he called and begged me to cover it. I shouldn’t be long. I’ll be back before dinner. Did you still want to try that new sushi place?”
Kate follows me to my room. “Yes, definitely. I have a book I’m dying to finish anyway, so I’m going to veg all day and read.”
I throw on a sundress. “Sounds like a perfect Saturday to me. Are you still reading that one without the HEA?”
“No. I finished that one.”
“I still can’t believe you read it, knowing he was going to die.” I lean down to buckle my sandals.
“I know. It was brutal, but it had, like, almost all five stars. So, I had to see what all the fuss was about.”
“Is the one you’re reading a cliffy?”
Kate shakes her head. “It’d better not be. It’s a stand-alone.”
“My heart hasn’t healed from the last book you lent me.” I dramatically clutch my heart to prove my point.
