by Piper Rayne
A knock lands on my door and I slam my laptop lid down like the person can see through my door and I’ve been caught watching porn. Standing up, I head to the door and glance at the time on my entertainment center, finding it after ten already.
Through the peephole I see Dean, his hand already positioned to knock again.
“Dean?”
I look around my apartment seeing the ultrasound picture on the couch. Running over, I shove it into the first thing I find, my purse.
“Chelsea,” he says, knocking once more.
“I’m coming.” I take the bag of pills from my doctor and drop them behind my couch.
When I open the door, Dean walks in without an invitation—like usual—his gaze taking in every inch of the room.
“Are you okay?” he asks, staring at the pile of Kleenex on my end table.
Shit, I forgot about that.
“Yeah, just reading a sad article online.”
Not a complete lie.
He nears closer to me, his hands running down my arms. “What’s going on with you? I feel like you’re dodging me.”
I shake my head.
Tell him. Just tell him.
“I think I know what this is about.” He smiles like he’s the most brilliant detective there is.
“You do?”
No way he does.
“I know you want your family to like me and with it being Skylar’s wedding it makes you remember us and how horrible it was after we announced our marriage.” He pulls me into his arms, his hands holding my head to his chest. “Don’t worry baby, eventually it will all turn out okay. They’ll accept me. It might be fifty years from now, but it will happen.”
I say nothing, letting him think the assumption he’s made is correct. My mom’s approval can stay shoved up her ass.
My arms tighten around his middle, needing the comfort of his arms. I pray things turn out differently this time around.
“Come on, you look exhausted.” He shelters my hand in his, locks my front door and guides me down the hall. “I’ll even keep my hands to myself tonight.”
We enter my bedroom.
“What about Grover?” I ask.
“He can stay by himself and I’ll run back home before work.” He strips down to his sweatpants, leaving him stark naked.
“Are you going to be able to keep that thing away from me tonight, too?”
He slides under the covers. “I’ll try, but you know he’s got a mind of his own.” He winks, and the news sits at the tip of my tongue.
“Come.” He pats the bed next to him, his hand propped under his chin and holding his head up.
“You didn’t have to come,” I say.
I take off my clothes and pull back the covers. When I slide in, his arm drapes over my stomach, pulling me flush to his chest. “I’m not going to let you hide from me. We face this together.”
My body loses the fight and I sink into his hold, his one hand flat on my belly.
He should know. I should tell him.
Somehow, I just can’t get the words out.
His other hand grabs hold of my breast and I flinch.
“What’s the matter?” he asks. He massages it with his hand and I resist the urge to pull away. “Were you too hard on yourself last night?”
“What?” I ask.
“When I told you to pinch yourself? Are you super sore today?” His voice is low like he doesn’t want to disturb someone else in the apartment.
“A little.” Another lie slips out and more guilt piles on top of me.
His hand falls down and releases my breast. “Sleep baby,” he whispers, his thumb running a small circle around my stomach as though he knows our little bean is in there and he’s soothing it to sleep, too.
Oh Jesus, when did I get so emotional?
Oh yeah, when my hormones went into overdrive to grow a baby inside me.
At least I hope that’s what it’s doing.
The next morning, I’m at my desk. Early because I made up the excuse to Dean that I had an important meeting and I just didn’t have time to have breakfast.
I hear Victoria enter, her footsteps clicking down the hall.
“When I call you, I’d like an answer.” She sits down in the chair across from me.
“Sorry,” I respond, pretending to write down something important.
“What did the doctor say?”
Fuck me. Why didn’t I prepare an answer for her? No way it’s fair if I tell anyone before Dean.
“She scheduled me for an ultrasound.”
I say a silent prayer to be forgiven for all the lies I’m telling. But they’re necessary to protect the people I care about.
“So, it is out?”
I nod slowly.
“How? That’s scary.”
“She said when they inserted the new one a few months back, that maybe it wasn’t placed properly.” I shrug acting like it’s no big deal.
“So could you be…”
Of course, Victoria would ask me straight out. But if I tell her about the pregnancy and the fact I didn’t tell Dean, she’s going to tell me how wrong that is.
Yeah, yeah, I know she was right the first time she told me to talk to him when he first started pursuing me again. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have him in my life right now. A man who knows me so well, he shows up at my apartment late at night because he knows something’s wrong.
“We didn’t talk about it.”
Her eyes narrow. “The doctor didn’t ask you if you could be pregnant?” The sarcasm drips off her words like ice cream off a cone on a scorching hot summer day.
“She just said she’d have to schedule an ultrasound to make sure it’s not lodged inside me somewhere.”
Another lie. How many am I up to now?
“Chelsea,” she says, and I meet her eyes for the first time. “You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not.” I shake my head, swallowing down the guilt of all my lies in the past twenty-four hours.
“First off, you’re way too calm for the fact that a foreign object could be floating around inside your body somewhere. Usually you’d have entertained me with some crazy story about your gyno appointment. Second of all, you’re antsy.” She looks side to side and then leans forward. “Are you pregnant?” she whispers.
Hearing the question point blank makes it so much harder to deny. A tear falls down my cheek and drops on the paper I’ve been writing a to-do list on as a distraction from her.
“Oh, sweetie.” She stands from her chair and comes over to me, wrapping her arms around me.
I don’t stand though or reciprocate the affection.
“Why are you upset?” she asks.
My gaze meets hers. She’s such a great mom. Loving and caring and has that ‘tell me anything and I’ll still love you’ look in her eyes when she talks to Jade. Like she’s strong enough to take any weight on her shoulders.
“It’s not my first time being pregnant with Dean’s baby,” I say.
She tries to cool her reaction, but I see the shock on her face.
Hannah barrels in, surprising us both. “What’s the matter?” Her eyes widen and she stands on the other side of my desk.
Victoria stares at me and I nod.
She turns her attention to Hannah. “Chelsea’s pregnant.”
Those two words are now out in the world to people other than the little bean’s father. Guilt rips at my chest, but there’s a small amount of relief that at least I’m not lying to everyone I know anymore.
“And it’s a bad thing?” Hannah asks, honestly curious.
“I think their shared past might make it a bad thing.” Victoria chimes in and studies me, waiting for me to give them more information.
For the next hour, we talk about what happened five years ago and why I loathed Dean as much as I did. As hard as it was to talk about, it felt good to get it out. Even if it brought my feelings closer to the past with Dean than my future with him.
Chap
ter Thirty
Skylar and Beckett stand up at the altar, pretending the priest is telling them what to do. I stand two back with Zoe in front of me and Sky’s friends Mia and Demi behind me. Across the way is Beckett’s two buddies, Grady and Dax along with Mikey and Vin.
Caiden and Molly sit on the steps. Molly’s sulking from not being able to practice with real flower petals today while Caiden’s busy sliding his butt down the stairs.
I glance out to the pews which hold a few of our relatives as Dean steps into the church.
He came right from work and although I’ve been dodging him with excuses of feeling sick all week, he still glows with a smile that says there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. I slept at my own place for three nights, but last night I met him for dinner and slept at his place.
His gray suit is buttoned, the heels of his dress shoes clicking before he sits a few pews back from my parents. My mom must notice my face because she never turns around to see who came in and her blinking increases exponentially.
“I now pronounce…” the priest lets the words trail off and Skylar and Beckett smile. “Now you’ll walk down first.”
Skylar slides her arm through Beckett’s and they dodge Molly and Caiden as they walk back down the aisle. Molly and Caiden follow. Zoe and Grady, me and Dax, Mia and Mikey and Vin and Demi bring up the rear.
Dean winks at me as I pass him by. Once we get to the end, Aunt Liz rushes over with her phone.
“Picture time!” she screams.
“I’ll have enough pictures tomorrow,” Skylar says.
“Come on, one of you guys up on the stairs.” She steps aside and Skylar huffs but starts to head down the marble walk way.
“I need lipstick then.” Skylar turns back around. “I left my purse in the bride’s room.”
“Who cares, we need to get this over with. Caiden and Molly are about a minute away from losing it. The out of town guests are probably at the restaurant already. You don’t need lipstick. It’s a picture for Mom.” Zoe lightly pushes Sky on the back.
“Says you. They’re my wedding pictures.”
I think the wedding stress is getting to everyone, not to mention everyone here probably has a hunger bitch going on.
“You can use mine,” Zoe says, grabbing her purse next to mine, digging in.
“I can’t pull off that red. I need more of a coral.” Sky looks around at the girls. “What are you wearing, Chels?”
Beckett rolls his eyes, heading down to the front with his buddies. They’re both razzing him about how great the pipe is in New Zealand and how behind he is because of all this wedding stuff.
“You can use mine.” I turn, but Zoe’s already wrestling with my purse, digging through every nook and cranny.
“I’m organized,” I say. “Grab the makeup bag.”
Zoe walks toward me, her focus on the bag, her hands probably messing everything up. “I don’t see a makeup bag.”
Caiden jumps off a pew landing on Zoe’s back. “Horsey!” he screams.
Zoe looks behind her, scowling at Caiden, and my purse tips in her hands. She falls down to her knees, Caiden laughing thinking his mom is actually going to be a horse right here in St. Matthews. All of the contents in my purse spill out before the purse plops down like a dead fish in the middle of the aisle.
“Caiden!” she screams.
Vin grabs hold of him. “No, Mommy was going to be a horse,” Caiden tells his dad, struggling to get back on her.
“Not today,” Vin says.
“That’s what you said last night. Why is she a horse for you but not for me?” Caiden crosses his arms, a scowl across his face as all of our eyes widen in surprise.
“Shut up. All of you.” Zoe points as everyone in the circle giggles like someone just said vagina and we’re six years old.
“Maybe you should lock your doors.” I laugh.
Zoe narrows her eyes at me. “The kid can pick a lock. Hence the fact” —she looks at a still very pissed off Caiden— “he saw me and Vin playing horsey and cowboy last night.”
All of our combined laughter echoes off the stained glass and beamed ceilings.
“Okay now. Everyone stop,” Aunt Liz tries to get everyone in order.
“Grow up,” Zoe mutters.
Vin comes over and puts his arm around his wife, an arrogant smirk on his face.
“Chelsea,” Dean says, and I look over my shoulder.
My heart shudders and almost stops, the breath leaving my body.
He’s holding out the ultrasound picture with half the contents of my purse packed back in, the rest still scattered on the ground.
“What’s that?” Aunt Liz asks and then her eyes widen. She finds my mom a few people back. She points, and my mom steps up, grabbing it from Dean’s hand.
“Chelsea!” she scolds me. “Is this…is this yours?” She holds it up and everyone gasps around me, their eyes pinging between the ultrasound and me. They want answers.
I stare into Dean’s eyes. “Yes.”
His head falls back between his shoulder blades and his hands fly up to cover his face. There’s no happiness in his body language.
It’s silent for a moment and after a minute he holds his hand out. “Can I see that Barb?”
To my surprise, my mom hands it to him.
He looks it over. “We need to talk.” His tone is clipped and his face holds no emotion.
My mom holds out her arm at him as he approaches me. “Not with that sour look on your face. You will not do to her what you did to her five years ago.”
Dean’s feet stop, his eyes turning darker than I’ve ever seen. His gaze flicks to my mother. “Good thing this isn’t five years ago then.” He takes her arm and moves it to the side of her.
“I…”
“Not here,” he says to me.
“Dean.” Zoe grabs his arm.
He pulls his arm free.
“You’ve known this entire week.” He towers over me and I meet his stormy eyes.
“I have,” I say in a quiet voice.
“Oh, Chels,” Sky sighs and I catch her and Zoe sharing a look.
Dean stands there, tucks the ultrasound in the pocket of his suit jacket. “We’re going to talk now.”
I walk up the aisle and through the doors, standing in the lobby area. Dean makes sure to shut the doors behind us.
“When are you ever going to forgive me?” He sits down at the pew on the wall, his head in his hands.
“I did forgive you.”
“You clearly didn’t. You refuse to talk about what happened. I’ve tried so many times to get you to talk about it. And now this…”
I throw my hands up in the air. “Why would we talk about it? So we can feel the pain again or should I say so I’ll feel the pain. You’ll probably just deal with it on your own like last time.”
He leans back like I slapped him. “I was fucked up then. I was an alcoholic. I wanted to talk to you about the miscarriage because I wanted everything from our past out in the open. A clean slate for a fresh start. Now you’re pregnant again and hide it from me? Just like the first time.”
My eyes close, losing the fight against my tears. “I didn’t know I was pregnant the first time.”
“You expect me to believe that now?”
“You expect me to feel bad for hiding it from you? I sat in that hospital when they told me that I’d been pregnant and I didn’t even know it. I was the one who bled alone in a sterile room. No one to hold my hand, no one but a fucking nurse to tell me I’d be okay. And then for the doctor to tell me…” I stop because saying it out loud means this baby inside of me is in jeopardy of my body rejecting it and I can’t deal with that and this right now.
“What? What possible reason could there be for you not telling me about this baby?” He stands and stalks toward me. “You have to let me in Chelsea. This will never work otherwise.”
I cross my arms over my body and shake my head. “While you were drinking with your buddies
or passed out on the couch, a nurse I didn’t even know wrapped her arms around my shoulders as a doctor told me that I might never have children. I have a mutated gene and my body can’t turn folic acid into folate. I was eighteen and I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Just that I might never be a mother and you weren’t there. You weren’t there!”
He steps into me, but I push him away. He fights, his arms around me and I sob into his shoulders.
After a minute, I collect myself and finish telling him what he needs to know. “The chances of this baby making it is only fifty percent. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Because more than likely I’ll end up in the hospital bed again.”
Dean steps back, his arms falling off me. “Alone?” he asks.
I shrug.
“You still think I’d do that—ignore your texts and calls. You still see me as a monster.”
I shake my head, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me.
“You can deny it all you want, but your actions and your lies this entire week say different.” He slowly backs away from me.
“A tiger doesn’t change its stripes,” I whisper.
A condescending huff erupts out of him. “How original.” He keeps stepping backward away from me.
“Do you think you’ll ever truly forgive me?” he asks, now a good distance from me.
“I do forgive you.”
“Keep putting that on repeat and maybe you’ll believe it one day.”
I swipe the tears from my cheeks. “What do you want from me?” I almost yell, my mixed up emotions getting the best of me.
“I don’t know anymore.” He looks as heartbroken as I feel right now.
My anger comes fast and furious. “How fitting. Just go then.” I point to the doors of the church.
Dean stares at the door. “I’m not sure what more I can do to prove it to you.”
“Maybe you can’t.”
“You’re giving up on us?”
I shrug. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe this thing between us was a disaster from the beginning.”
“You believe that?” he asks.