Текст книги "Forever with You"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter 28

Nick had walked out, not on me, I would discover, but had simply left the apartment. He’d called Roxy and remained in the parking lot until she showed up some fifteen minutes later.

I knew this because when she knocked on my door, I heard his motorcycle roar to life.

Roxy stepped in before I had a chance to say one word. “I know what’s happened, and Nick doesn’t want you to be by yourself right now. You shouldn’t be by yourself right now.”

“I’m—”

“Yeah. You’re fine. He said you kept saying that.” Roxy shrugged off her jacket. “You might as well go ahead and close that door, because I’m not leaving.”

There was a huge part of me that wanted to tell her to leave, but I was suddenly too tired to argue. Exhausted to the bone, I closed the door and then walked past her, to the couch. Sitting down, I picked up the quilt and dragged it over me, tucking it under my chin.

Roxy draped her coat over the back of the kitchen chair and made her way over. She didn’t speak as she sat on the other side of the couch, and I didn’t look at her. I stared at the TV screen, not really seeing it.

“I want to hug you right now,” she said, and the muscles all along my spine stiffened. “But you look like you might punch me if I did.”

I shook my head slowly. I wasn’t sure if I was agreeing or not.

She exhaled softly. “I don’t know what to say, Steph, other than I’m so, so sorry.”

Closing my eyes against the burn, I gripped the edges of the blanket. My stomach cramped and it was painful, but in a way, it was no match to the complete and utter devastation I felt. “I don’t get it,” I said after a moment.

“Get what?” she asked quietly.

I really didn’t know where I was going with any of this, but my tongue was moving and words were becoming attached to the pain bubbling up inside me. “I don’t get why it hurts so much. It’s not like I was even that far along, you know? I haven’t even told my boss yet. Maybe I shouldn’t have told anyone. I mean, I was just entering my second trimester.” A sharp slice of pain cut through me. “Actually, I probably wasn’t even close. The doctor at the hospital said that the ba—said that it probably stopped developing a week or more ago.”

And now that I’d said it out loud, things started to make sense. The exhaustion that I felt. The loss of whatever weight I had gained. “There had been signs,” I told her. I was starting to see white spots behind my closed eyelids. “Signs that I was losing . . . it, and I didn’t pay attention to them. I thought they were normal.”

“How would you know? You couldn’t,” Roxy argued. “And I know that miscarrying is common, Steph. It happens, and no one is to blame for it.”

No one was to blame? I wasn’t so sure. Maybe I hadn’t taken the pregnancy seriously. I know I missed taking the prenatal vitamins once. My diet could’ve been way healthier. And what if the baby hadn’t stopped developing, and if I paid attention to the pain last night instead of going to bed, could this miscarriage have been prevented?

The racing thoughts made me feel sick. I felt like . . . like I deserved this. Like some kind of punishment had been handed down. I’d messed up and I didn’t even know what I’d done.

Roxy scooted closer, placing her hand on my shoulder. “This isn’t your fault.”

I opened my tired eyes.

“These things happen,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know that sounds lame right now and doesn’t help anything, but these things do happen, Steph, and no one is to blame.”

My gaze fell to the Christmas tree and my thoughts immediately drifted to the day I picked out the tree with Nick. How we’d roamed into the baby section and looked at all—

I cut those thoughts off as I inhaled sharply, but I couldn’t look away from the tree. God, was that really only two weeks ago? Was the baby even still alive then?

Roxy squeezed my shoulder. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing,” I whispered.

“Do you think you can eat?” she asked, and I shook my head. “What about something to drink? Or something for pain?” When I didn’t say anything, she dropped her hand. “I’m not leaving you, so you should make use of me being here.”

I pressed my lips together. “There’s nothing I need right now.”

A moment passed. “I don’t think that’s true. You need Nick right now.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, I stiffened.

“And he needs you right now,” she added.

I shook my head again. “He . . . he doesn’t need me.”

“He sounded like he was about ten seconds away from losing his shit.” Her eyes met mine when I looked at her. “Maybe you don’t need to hear that right now, but I’ve never really seen Nick upset. Ever. And he was really upset.”

“I don’t want him to be upset.” My voice was hoarse. “The last thing I wanted is for him to get hurt again. He’s lost . . .” I trailed off, partly because I didn’t want to share his personal business and because Katie’s words rushed back to haunt me.

You’re going to break his heart.

My lips slowly parted. Holy shit. Katie and her super stripping psychic power had been on point. I had thought it was crazy for, well, obvious reasons, and because this whole time I wasn’t convinced that I had the power to break Nick’s heart. But I did. It was the baby, I realized—losing the baby. It sounded crazy, but Katie had been right.

“What happened with Nick?” Roxy asked gently.

I drew in a shaky breath. “I . . . I broke his heart.”

Thursday afternoon blurred into the night.

At some point I migrated from the couch to my bedroom, and as I lay in bed, I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t sleep. My mind turned over everything I had done and hadn’t done since I found out I was pregnant, searching tirelessly for that one misstep I took.

Roxy didn’t leave, but she gave me space, only coming into the bedroom when enough hours had past for her to pester me into eating the chicken soup that I had no idea how she obtained, because I didn’t have any in the house, but that soup reminded me of Nick.

And that made the hurt so much fresher.

I thought I heard Reece’s voice Thursday night, and then later I thought I heard Calla. At first I assumed I was imagining it, but then I realized dimly that Calla was home now. The semester at Shepherd was over. I prayed that she wouldn’t come into the room, and she didn’t.

All night long I lay awake and didn’t cry. There was a vast emptiness that consumed my thoughts. I couldn’t turn any of it off like I had in the emergency room Wednesday night. I just wanted it to be over—the physical pain and the deeper, sharper, and more hurtful pain.

Sometime in the quiet early morning hours, I came to the realization that I had wanted this baby far more than I ever recognized. It was like that cheesy saying, “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone,” and that was so damn true. The burning in my throat and eyes increased.

I curled up, tucking my legs in. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair, and I hadn’t hurt this badly since those two uniformed marines showed up at our front door when I was fifteen.

In the back of my head I knew I needed to pull myself out of this. I needed to get up, brush myself off, and I needed to get on with life. That’s what I always did, and I would have to do it again, but I hadn’t just lost the baby.

I’d lost a future.

Roxy attempted to get me to eat breakfast Friday morning, and I thought she looked as bad as I felt when she left the bedroom, her brown hair falling out of the topknot. I wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to stay. She had a life she needed to get back to. I would be fine.

I was always fine.

A few minutes before eleven in the morning, I heard the door open and I was expecting to see Roxy, but it was Katie who walked into my bedroom, closing the door behind her, and I almost didn’t recognize her.

Face cleared of all traces of makeup and her long blond hair pulled up in a high ponytail, she was wearing the plainest outfit I’d ever seen her in. Blue jeans and a white wool sweater. I’d never seen her so . . . low key.

Katie made her way to the bed and sat on the edge, her blue eyes bright without any of the eye shadow or dark liner. “Roxy had to run home.”

My throat was dry as I spoke. “You didn’t have to come. I’m just . . . taking it easy.”

“Kind of hard to take it easy after losing a baby.”

I sucked in a shallow breath. Apparently her normal bluntness was not missing. I didn’t know what to say to that.

“You must be feeling ill,” she added, hooking one knee over the other. “I know that when someone miscarries, they feel pretty shitty for a couple of days. Not just mentally. Roxy said you haven’t eaten breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said after a moment.

She folded her hands in her lap. “You should probably try to eat something.”

I didn’t respond as I squirmed under the blankets. A muggy, suffocating feeling draped over me. I was embarrassed by the attention—by the fact my friends thought I needed a babysitter right now when all I needed was . . .

I didn’t let myself finish that thought.

“I’m fine,” I told her from my prone position on the bed. There was a good chance my cheek was plastered to the pillow.

One eyebrow rose. “I warned you.”

My breathing slowed.

Katie shook her head slowly, sadly. “I just had this feeling, you know? I knew you were going to break his heart and you’re doing it.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. Was God smiting me or something? I really didn’t need this right now.

“But I never thought you’d be this . . . stupid.”

My eyes flew open. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, you’re this confident, intelligent, and sexy woman. You could have men on their knees if you wanted them there. And you’re fucking dumb as a bag rocks right now.” She looked down at me. “Roxy told me you all but kicked Nick out of your apartment . . . after telling him you lost the baby. You know, the baby you two created together.”

Something hot and uncomfortable stirred in my gut. “I know how we made the baby, Katie. Thanks. And I know I broke his heart by losing the baby, so I really don’t need the reminder right now.”

Katie ignored my tone and continued. “She also said he mentioned that you didn’t even tell him until after you got back from the hospital. What the fuck, girl?”

My mouth dropped open as guilt moved like black smoke through me.

“You know, I get that you have these fears and concerns about how Nick really feels about you, but you have to be dumb as a motherfucker not to see the truth.”

“Okay,” I said after a second. “That’s like the second or third time you’ve called me dumb, and I really don’t like that or have the patience for this conversation right now.”

“Too bad,” she replied, eyes sharpening. “Because there’s something you’re not getting.”

I rolled onto my back, clenching my jaw. “I think I get it.”

“No. You don’t.” She waited until my gaze found hers. “But you will.”

Exhaling loudly, I struggled to keep a grasp on my patience. “I’m really tired. I think I need to—”

“Talk about how unfair it is that you lost the baby? Or how much it hurts?” she answered for me. “We can talk about it.”

“I don’t need to talk about that.”

She raised both brows. “That’s not true. You’re not okay. Talking is important. Get the anger and emotion out.” She paused. “Or when you’re feeling better, get on the pole. That’s one hell of a workout and a great way to get the anger out.”

Dumbfounded, all I could do was stare. “Are you psychic and a counselor?”

“Aren’t they one in the same?”

“What even . . . ?” I lifted my hand, pressing it to my forehead. “I can’t deal with this right now.”

“No one expects you to deal. This is something tragic, girl. Happens all the time, to people all across the world. Doesn’t mean it sucks any less. And it doesn’t mean your pain is any less. You’re not okay.”

The air got stuck in my throat. “I am okay.”

Katie shook her head. “Nope.”

My eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I am.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

I sat up, staring at her. “What in the hell? I said I’m okay. I’m okay, for fuck’s sake.”

She folded slender arms across her waist. “You can tell me that all you want, but I know better. Everyone knows better.”

“Everyone knows . . .” I shook my head, painfully aware of the limp strands of hair smacking my cheeks. In that moment, I don’t think there was anyone I hated more than Katie. “I can’t deal with this right now,” I repeated, my hand curling into a fist.

Katie tilted her head to the side. “Of course not. Who would be able to deal with this right now?”

There were no words, because, good God, we were talking in one giant, messed up circle.

A tide of violent, unstable emotions rose inside me as I reached down and grabbed the comforter. My hand shook as I tossed it off my legs. I stood, pushing my hair out of my face with a frantic shove. “I’m okay.”

Katie said nothing.

The trembling danced over my fingers and rose up my arms. “I’m fine,” I said, and the tide overcame me, rising up and washing over, like a levee breaking. “I”m okay.” I backed up, hitting the wall. “I’m okay!”

She rose from the bed, her face crumbling as she whispered, “It’s all right.”

No.

That was the thing. It wasn’t all right. Oh God, none of this was okay.

Something strong broke inside of me. The burning in my eyes and throat were no longer manageable. Katie’s shape blurred, and somewhere, someone was screaming those two damn words over and over, and it was a lie. It was such a stupid, fucking lie.

And I’d messed up. I knew I had in more ways than I was even considering, and it wasn’t okay. And I didn’t know how to make it okay or where to even start. There was no manual on this, no amount of Googling that was going to fix this.

Tears streamed down my face as my chest heaved with a broken sob. Katie’s arms came around me and tightened as my knees gave out and I slid down the wall, taking her with me. My head fell to her shoulder. “I’m not,” I whispered. “I’m not okay.”

Chapter 29

I finally slept.

There really was no other option for me. I’d cried myself sick, into dry heaves, and I cried myself into a mindless exhaustion that could only be cured by climbing into my bed. I don’t know how long I slept, but waking up was like dragging myself out of gritty quicksand. My eyes, swollen and weary, felt plastered shut, and I wasn’t ready to attempt to peel them open and face reality, face the loss of a future I hadn’t known how badly I wanted until it was gone. And face the ugly truth that my insecurities concerning my relationship with Nick, valid or not, had led me to make selfish, cowardly choices when it came to involving him in what was happening. I also just didn’t . . . didn’t want to see him hurt, and trying to protect him from that had backfired.

I loved him and I had hurt him even more.

Like a ghost, the image of those tiny shoes Nick and I had looked at while Christmas tree shopping formed in my head, and the pain rose, sharp and seemingly never-ending. In that moment, I was never more grateful for the fact that I hadn’t started shopping for anything baby related. I wasn’t sure if I could bear having to return onesies or pack them away. The ultrasound picture on the fridge had been difficult enough to see.

Every cell in my body felt like I’d been through the wringer, and I really had. The last thing I wanted to do was get up, but I needed to because of what my body was going through. As I lay there telling myself to get up, I slowly became aware of another presence in the room.

A very close presence, like in the same bed with me. I could hear the steady breaths. While I wouldn’t have been surprised if Katie climbed into bed with me, I had the distinct feeling that it wasn’t her. My skin tingled as I breathed in deeply, catching a fresh scent tinged with pine.

My heart skipped a beat. The scent . . . the scent was so familiar, so right.

I held my breath as I forced my eyes to crack open, and exhaled roughly once my vision adjusted to the low light filtering in from the hallway outside the open bedroom door.

Lying in the bed beside me, on his back, was Nick.

I still had to be asleep.

Nick turned his head toward mine. Even with the lack of light, I could see the dark shadows under his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was rough. “You’re awake.”

Unable to get my tongue off the roof of my mouth, I started to sit up. Nick rose alongside me, his gaze never leaving my face. “Katie had Roxy call me. It’s just us.”

My head was still fuzzy with sleep and I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Do you need help?” was his immediate response.

I shook my head. “I . . .” I was at a loss for words as I stared at him.

“I’ll be waiting for you here, okay?” he said, voice low. “You need anything, yell, and I’ll be there.”

Pressure tightened around my chest, and I forced myself out of the bed before I lost it all over again. I shuffled to the bathroom and took care of the necessary stuff. Before leaving, I stopped long enough to splash cold water over my face and to pull my now gross hair back.

Nick was here.

He’d come back even after I’d kicked him out.

He was here.

Throat constricting, I glanced at my reflection and saw that I looked like a wreck, but I knew there was nothing I could do about that. What I looked like was the least important thing right now.

I ambled back to the bedroom, feeling like I’d aged fifty years, but seeing Nick propped against the headboard was like receiving a shot of adrenaline. Nervousness and the sweet anticipation always tied to him battled it out as I made my way to the bed, sitting down near his legs.

Nick had turned on the nightstand lamp while I was in the bathroom, and now I could fully see him. A thick stubble covered his jaw and chin, and those dark shadows under his eyes were stark. His shirt, the same one he had worn yesterday when I saw him, was wrinkled. His hair was a mess, and he looked just as bad as I felt.

His chest rose with a deep breath. “I know you don’t want me here,” he stated, and before I could respond, he forged on. “But I’m going to be right here. It took everything in me yesterday to walk out of that door and I don’t have it in me anymore to do it again. Not after knowing what you’ve been going through and seeing you now. I know you’re hurting. You shouldn’t be alone and it should be me who’s here for you.”

I lowered my gaze as I pulled my legs up, curling them under me. “It’s not that I didn’t want you here, Nick. That’s not the case at all.”

There was a beat of silence. “I’m going to be real honest with you, Stephanie, that’s exactly how it came across yesterday.”

How could I explain what I was feeling and where my head was at when it was in so many places and everything was so raw? There were so many words, so many things I could say, and yet I couldn’t grasp one strong thought. It was like trying to catch the rain.

Yesterday I had pushed for a confrontation, but today, right now, all I wanted was his arms to be around me. All I wanted was to be held. All I wanted was to be with the one person who shared the same pain I was experiencing.

I lifted my gaze, and Nick’s face blurred as a wave of fresh tears rose.

He tilted his head to the side and his voice cracked when he spoke. “Come here.”

My body moved before my brain fully registered the words. I scrambled over his legs as he sat up, his arms open and reaching for me. I climbed right into his lap, planting my face against his chest as I all but fused my body to his.

Nick’s reaction was immediate. He buried one hand in my messy ponytail, and my knees bent on either side of me as his other arm circled my waist, curving his body into mine. It was like he was caging himself around me, and those tears that had welled up spilled free. I almost couldn’t believe there were any left in me, but the sobs rose again, and they were so powerful they shook my body—shook his as he held on.

“That’s good. That’s good,” he kept saying, over and over. “It’s all right not to be okay. I’m not okay either. I’m not.”

And he wasn’t. I could feel his body trembling, and as I curled my fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck, guilt and anguish tangled together, forming a poisonous knot. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Stephanie, baby, please don’t apologize.” His voice did that breaking thing again, killing me. “What happened isn’t your fault. You know that, right? This wasn’t your fault.”

I wasn’t sure if I was apologizing for losing the baby or for how I treated him during it. Or maybe I was apologizing for both things.

And then he said it. “You’re breaking my heart, Stephanie. Stop apologizing. It’s ripping me apart.”

You’re going to break his heart.

My grip on him tightened. It wasn’t losing the baby. It wasn’t even the way I had acted. It was this. Damn. Katie really was psychic.

We held on, becoming each other’s anchor, and we shared that pain. Time became something that happened in the background. I had no idea how much of it passed before I opened my eyes and the only tears left were those that clung to my eyelashes. His arms had stopped trembling and his chin rested atop my head as one hand trailed up and down my back, the caress soothing and grounding.

“Are you . . . not working?” I asked, wincing at the scratchiness of my voice and the lameness of my question.

“Jax gave me the weekend off, and Kira is with my grandfather.” His hand curled around the nape of my neck. “I’m not going anywhere, Stephanie.”

“I don’t want you to leave me.” I whispered those words, and it didn’t kill me to admit something so vulnerable. In all honesty, it did the exact opposite. Relief blossomed, tiny and frail, but there.

Nick’s hand stilled. “Why would you even think that?”

I raised a shoulder.

“Don’t do that.” His voice was gentle as his hand started to move again, kneading the tight muscles in my neck. “Talk to me.”

My hand slipped to his chest and curled there, above his heart. “I just don’t want you to leave, because I . . . I think you’re going to. We got together because I was pregnant. That’s why we were together. Not because of anything else, and now that’s gone, there’s no reason for you to keep doing this—”

“No reason?” Disbelief colored his tone.

“Well, I know you’re physically attracted to me, but . . . I don’t know.” I sighed. “None of this is really important right now. We can—”

“That is important right now.” His other hand rose, brushing back a strand of hair that had escaped the ponytail and was plastered to my cheek. “Why in the world would you think you being pregnant was the only reason I’ve been with you?”

When he said it like that, it did sound foolish, but our relationship had been far from normal. “You didn’t want to see me again after the first night we hooked up.”

“I—”

“I know you apologized, and honestly, I don’t even care about that, but when you did come back around, you just wanted to be friends. There was nothing more until after I found out I was pregnant,” I said, and then rushed on. “We never called each other boyfriend and girlfriend, and you said we were stuck together. That we were going to have to make the best out of this and . . .” And I trailed off, because really, what else needed to be said after that? Those were his words.

Nick was silent for a moment and then cursed under his breath. “Jesus, Stephanie, I fucked this up. I really did.”

Confused, I drew back and my gaze found his. “What?”

“Shit.” He lifted a hand, dragging it down his face. “Remember that night I came here to apologize for the way I acted in the bar? When I said I wished things were different between us? I wasn’t screwing around then. You have no idea how hard it was for me not to see you again after the night we hooked up. I wanted to. Fuck. I wanted to more than anything I’ve wanted to do in a long time.”

What the what . . . ? “Then why didn’t you?”

He shook his head. “My focus has been my grandfather for the last couple of years, and I didn’t want any other complications. I didn’t have time for one.” He dropped his hand. “But I’m also a fucking idiot. It’s not something I realized until I got to know you. That’s not a good enough excuse, but with everything that has happened in my family—losing almost all of them, and then the girl I thought I was in love with in college left me when shit got tough? Getting in a relationship again wasn’t something I was looking forward to. I’m going to be honest. The idea still . . . yeah, it scares me a little.”

I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what to say as I shook my head.

“I wanted to be different for you—I wanted everything to be different for you, and that was before we knew you were pregnant,” he said, his shoulders hunching as he shook his head. “I just didn’t think I was capable of being that person.”

My brows rose. “You are.”

His lashes lowered. “You know, a couple of months ago I wouldn’t have been sure of that statement, and honestly, I didn’t know until you came over for Thanksgiving. Seeing you with my grandfather made me realize how much of an idiot I was, not going after you the moment I left your apartment. And talking to you about what happened to my family, how it’s tied to Calla. Actually saying that shit out loud helped me let it go. I should’ve . . . I should’ve said that to you, because I get why you’d think there was nothing else between us. I do. I should’ve made it clear that there was more I was feeling.”

He pressed his hand to his chest. “I was feeling more for you in here, and it had nothing to do with you being pregnant.”

I almost couldn’t believe what he was saying. “But if I hadn’t gotten pregnant, would we ever have gotten together?”

“I don’t know, honestly I don’t, but I like to think we would’ve found our way to each other.” His gaze flickered to mine. “I want to believe that. I have to.”

I struggled through the ball of emotion that was building again. Hope was there, swelling so beautifully, but it felt tainted with loss and with lingering, thick confusion. My lips trembled and I pressed them together for a moment. “I don’t know. You were wonderful—you have been wonderful. I should’ve known there was more there. I’ve just been so . . . everything has been new to me.”

“Yeah.” His eyes searched mine. “Neither of us are very good at this relationship thing, huh?”

A dry, cracking laugh escaped me. “No. We’re not very good at it.” I lowered my chin. “But we were really good at it when we didn’t even know we were doing it.”

“Damn straight,” he murmured, gently touching my chin. He tipped my head up so our eyes met. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? Circle yes or no.”

Another hoarse laugh rattled as I lifted my finger, drawing a circle on his chest. “That’s me circling yes.”

Nick’s lips twitched into a grin. “Maybe I should’ve asked you that a while ago.”

“Maybe I should’ve asked you.”

His grin faded as he leaned over, pressing his lips to my temple.

“You know what?” I whispered, closing my eyes as I tried to grasp onto that hope and almost immediately felt guilty for doing so. How could I be happy about anything right now? But at the same time how could I not be, now that I knew the man I was in love with wanted to be with me? Even if he hadn’t spoken those three words, what he had told me meant so much.

He curled his arm back around my waist. “What?”

“I wish . . . I wish this hadn’t happened.”

“I know. I wish the same thing.”

I drew in a shallow breath. “It hurts. I can’t believe how much it hurts, and I can’t stop thinking that I . . . I could’ve done something differently.”

“Babe,” he said, kissing my forehead, “don’t let your head go there. Promise me you won’t let your head go there.”

Promising that was harder said than done, but that’s what I did, and he cupped my cheek. “It’s going to be hard. I know it is. For both of us, but you know what?”

“What?”

“We got each other. No matter what. There is a you and me.” Nick lowered his forehead to mine. “And that is all we need right now.”