I started chuckling to try and get a rise out of the tourists, but they didn’t even look at me.
“Anyway, if you come across some crab to catch—though it isn’t likely—you can catch up to five per person. And please, don’t take the starfish home as pets. They are protected by law, and you can be fined up to five hundred American dollars if you’re caught with only one.”
I hated the fact that I missed Syn. Especially after everything we had been through. Coming home felt like a homecoming, of sorts, but it still didn’t feel like home.
Syn was the only thing that had felt like home in recent years.
The more I tried not to think about her, the more my curiosity about her life grew. The itch to look her up went away. But I hung on to the words of tourists if they started talking about her. I had eavesdropped over various conversations the past few months. People wondering what happened between her and Liam. People wondering why she hadn’t been in the media lately. People praising her show and how badass she was. People inquiring as to when she was going to do her next interview.
No one seemed to recognize me, though. Which was interesting.
Yet, nice.
“Well, now that you guys have been briefed, this is the moment where I shut up and let you fish. And remember, if you fall overboard, I have every right to leave you behind.”
I waited for a response from the crowd, for any sort of reaction, but all I got was nothing. Absolutely nothing from these people. I shook my head and hung up the microphone, then sat down in my seat up front. I watched the passengers fiddling with their fishing rods, preparing to cast out the second we dropped an anchor.
But a conversation on the other side of the boat caught my ear.
“Too bad she looks like this now.”
“Holy shit, when the hell did she get fat?”
“She’s not fat, you idiot. She’s pregnant.”
“Damn, she carrying twins or something?”
“Doesn’t matter. Another hot one tossed to the sharks to be devoured.”
“I wonder who the lucky guy is to have knocked up Syn Sycamore.”
I shot up from my seat. “Let me see that.”
I walked over to the rich frat boys and snatched the phone out from between them. They looked up at me with wild eyes as I took in the photograph, trying to figure out what the hell they were talking about. Those eyes. I’d never forget her eyes. And that beautiful smile. I hadn’t seen her smile like that in, well, ever.
Then, my gaze dropped to her stomach.
She was rotund, ripe with life, her hand poised against her stomach. She had a glow about her that tugged at my heart and a joy about her that tugged at my gut. Her swollen stomach sat beneath a flowing dress, and somehow the woman was still in heels, flexing those toned legs, with her hair blowing in some artificial wind as she posed for a camera that still loved her, that still made her look phenomenal.
“Can I have my phone back now, asshole?”
The words “Baby Bump: What is she hiding?” were typed underneath the picture. And as I handed the phone back to the spoiled little brat, I wondered the same thing. What the hell was Syn hiding? And why the fuck was she hiding it from me?
Not like you’ve made it easy for her to find you.
Still, I felt devastated. How far along was she? I’d traded my smartphone for a basic phone when I moved back, so I’d have to wait until I got home to look up the article. Maybe there was an interview that went along with it. Or maybe not.
Why the fuck did you cut off your phone!
I’d cut my lease on the apartment. I’d had to quit my job when my work visa expired. I’d set up some semblance of a life here. Maybe she didn’t have a way to get in touch with me, short of flying herself here in the first place. And even then, she didn’t have an idea of where to start.
Did she know before I left?
That was the big question. The question that stayed on my mind all throughout my workday. Did Syn know about this baby before I left? Before we had that massive fight that ended us? I needed answers to these questions. I needed to know if that child was mine.
Though, deep down, I already knew the answer.
It might not be yours.
My mind flashed back to our last fight. That damn dinner she had with Liam. I mean, I wasn’t privy to all the details of the arrangement we had. Maybe I wasn’t the only one she was sleeping with. It was possible.
“I have to know,” I murmured.
I turned around and looked back toward the shoreline. We weren’t more than a quarter of a mile off land. So, in a moment of desperation, I began stripping my clothes down.
“Uh, what’s he doing?”
“Can you put your pants back on?”
“The fuck are you doing, dude?” one of the frat boys asked.
I pointed toward them, wearing nothing but my boxer briefs.
“No cursing on this excursion. The captain has every right to throw you overboard if you do it again.”
Then, I dove into the warm waters of the sea.
I swam as quickly as I could. I didn’t have the patience to do this damn excursion three more times today. I had to get back to land. I had to get back into the States. I had to see Syn and figure out what the actual fuck was going on. I swam until I heaved for air. I swam until my feet touched sand. Then, I ran back to the marina and picked up the first phone I saw so I could call my father.
“This is Carlos.”
“Dad, it’s me.”
“Hey! Wait, aren’t you supposed to be on a charter?”
“Something’s come up. A very serious emergency. I need you to send another skipper out to the boat.”
“Son, what’s wrong? What’s happened on the boat?”
I sighed. “Nothing. You just need another second hand on the boat that’s already out there. It’s just the captain right now. I have to get back to the States.”
“Wait, why? What in the world is going on?”
“I swear to you, I’ll make it up to you a million times over. I’ll answer every question you’ve had for the past seven months if you just trust me on this.”
He paused. “Every single one?”
“Yes,” I said breathlessly.
He sighed. “Okay, go. Go! But I expect you back at the beginning of the week, unless you have a very good reason.”
I just might. “Thank you, Dad. Thank you so much.”
Dripping wet and wearing nothing but my underwear, I ran back to my place, a small apartment I was afforded on the money I made here on the island. I was only a stone’s throw away from the marina. Three city blocks, maybe. I felt people staring; they were wondering what the hell was going on, but I didn’t care.
The only thing I cared about was getting back to Syn.
I dried myself off and slipped on some clothes. I didn’t even bother packing up my things, because I didn’t intend on staying long. I didn’t anticipate this going in a good direction. Syn and I didn’t have the best past, so it prevented me from hoping for a better future.
Still, part of me held out hope.
The part of me that never stopped loving her.
“Come on, where is it?” I grumbled.
I tossed my apartment around, trying to find my passport.
“Come on!” I roared.
Then, finally, I laid my hands on it.
“Gotcha,” I hissed.
I scooped up my wallet and rushed back for the road. I hailed a cab that took me straight to the airport. And as I swiped my card for a ticket back into LAX for the first time in months, I wasn’t sure which option would be worse.
If the baby was mine and Syn hadn’t tried to track me down, or if the baby wasn’t mine at all.
26
Syn
“You should have let the writers write your character pregnant,” Voxx said.
“That wouldn’t fit the structure of her character. And plus, you would’ve had to write in an entirely different character just to k
nock her up. That kind of thing can’t happen off screen. You know this.”
“Our writers are more creative than that. They would’ve come up with something had you told us sooner and given us time to work something out.”
I held out my hands. “Can you even tell I’m pregnant?”
He sighed. “If we dress you in the right clothes? No.”
“Then, shut up about it.”
The director glared at me as I walked my ass off set. I wasn’t interested in exploiting my pregnancy for any reason or any show whatsoever. I was pregnant, that was that. No interviews around it, no needless questions about it, no promotional material centered around my baby bump. Yes, I did the photoshoot, but only because the magazine promised me that the interview would stay career-focused on not focused solely on my pregnancy.
Which, they kept their word on.
Voxx clapped his hands. “All right, everyone. Lunch! It’s time to shake the cobwebs away from our summer break. Let’s get this show on the road!”
Nat handed me a water bottle. “Here. You look thirsty.”
“Ugh, thank you so much,” I said.
These last two months of my pregnancy were going to kick my ass. I’d been sick throughout the entire thing, experiencing nausea at random points throughout every single damn day. My ankles were the size of bowling balls. My feet had spread, requiring an entirely new set of shoes in my closet as well as on set at work. The girdles and shit they had me in to try and conceal my stomach had me short of breath most of the day. And I had to take frequent pee breaks because the baby kept kicking against my bladder.
The worst part of all of it, though, was the fact that I didn’t get to share any of it with Gael.
“Thinking about him again?” Nat asked.
I sighed. “Does it matter?”
“Yes, Syn. It does matter. You love him.”
“So? He’s made it very clear he doesn’t ever want to see me again. He changed his number. Cut the lease on his apartment. Never came back for his stuff. His stuff is still at my fucking house, Nat.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Me too. I should’ve had the courage to tell him how I really felt when I had the chance.”
I chugged back the water before tossing the bottle into the recycling bin. Those green things were scattered all throughout the set. No matter, though. None of this mattered. The only thing that mattered was making sure my little one was safe.
My sweet, beautiful little boy.
I blew my chance with Gael, and I knew it. And while it made sleep hard and getting through my days even harder, I didn’t have a choice. This child needed me to go on. This child needed me to be strong. This child needed me to be healthy and happy and content with my life. So, I did my best. I treated myself to nice things. I decked out a nursery in the guest room right beside my bedroom. I made sure my home was as comfortable as possible for me to raise a child in.
Swallowing my ache for Gael became hard some days, though. Like today, when all I wanted to do was curl up in his arms and go to sleep.
“I’m so tired,” I whispered.
Nat nodded. “I know you are. That’s why summer break wasn’t as short as it usually is. Three more weeks of filming, then you’re done until the turn of the New Year. The writing team did an excellent job planning this season around you. You’ll have lots of time off once the baby comes. In the meantime, let’s go get you some food.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Nauseated again?”
“When am I ever not?”
She snickered. “Well, let’s go sit you down in a chair. I’ll go get you another bottle of water.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Nat.”
“You’re welcome.”
“No, really. Thank you.”
She paused. “I know, Syn. And you’re welcome.”
She smiled at me before walking away to get me some water while I took up space in the chair sitting against the wall. I saw Voxx waving over my stunt double. I saw the stuntmen setting up for a soft shoot, a run-through of a stunt to make sure all the kinks were worked out before actually filming it for real; it made me miss Gael. I watched them as they rushed around, gathered props, and hoisted the motorcycle onto the ramp. My stunt double slide the purse up her shoulder and one of the stuntmen would attempt to steal it.
“Here you go,” Nat said.
But I didn’t reach for the bottle.
“And, action!” Voxx exclaimed.
I watched the helmeted rider scream down the ramp. My stunt double carried her purse, unaware of her situation as she glanced down at her phone. A juxtaposition between the murder she was trying to solve and her own disposition with technology. The stunt went flawlessly, as per usual. We had a very talented stunt team on set for this show.
“Cut! That was fucking perfect. Set it back up, and let’s go one more time. I’ll get the shot, and I’ll let you guys break,” Voxx said.
“Way to go, Hunter!” I exclaimed.
But when the motorcycle man pulled off his helmet, I wasn’t looking at Hunter.
“Wait, is that—?”
“Gael,” I whispered.
With his broad shoulders and his brooding stare, he handed his helmet off to someone in the shadows. His eyes locked with mine as I abandoned the water bottle beside me, watching him walk toward me. Holy shit, it really was Gael. I struggled to get out of my chair. Nat gripped my arm and helped steady me on my feet, and I felt as if I might pass out.
“Gael,” I said.
He didn’t say a word until he was standing in front of me, so close I felt his body heat radiating against my body. The child within me rolled around, kicking and pushing, knocking against my ribs. I groaned as my hand flew to my stomach, and I flopped back down into my chair.
“Are you okay?” Nat asked.
“Privacy, please,” I breathed.
I cocked myself in the chair as Gael crouched down in front of me. His eyes swirled with so many questions. But they were also filled with something else. I couldn’t place it, though. My own eyes were watering as I tried to work through the pain in my side.
“Come on,” I murmured.
“What can I do?” Gael asked.
I shook my head. “After everything, you still want to help?”
“Of course I do.”
I shook my head. “Just—give me a moment.”
I tried to steady my breathing as the kicking inside me finally died down.
“Ok, I think I’m good now.”
I panted softly as my eyes met his.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I whispered.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“I’m not sure right now is the best time.”
“I don’t care what time it is. I’m done waiting for you to tell me what I need to know.”
I furrowed my brow. “Excuse me?”
“Can we talk somewhere else? Somewhere… not here?”
“Depends. Can you tone that attitude down since you’re the one who changed your number and never came back?”
He blinked. “You have good points.”
“As I’m sure you do. Now, help me up and we can talk in my dressing room.”
His touch against my arm sent my heart fluttering in my chest. And again, the little boy within me kicked up. As if he knew his father had returned. He helped me into the dressing room as the studio stayed eerily silent. I was worried about what might happen once we got behind the closed door. I didn’t know what he was going to say, because he certainly didn’t look happy. I couldn’t help myself, though. I still loved him. And any reason to be back in his presence filled my soul with light.
Then, the second the door closed behind us, the questions began.
“How far along are you?” he asked.
“A little over seven months,” I said.
“So, you were pregnant before I left.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know until the day before New Year’s Eve. I
swear it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why didn’t you try to track me down?”
“Why did you make it so hard? You made it very clear when you left here all those months ago that you wanted this to be over.”
“Try the truth for once, Syn. It might suit you better.”
His eyes gave me a heated once-over, but it wasn’t the kind of heat I enjoyed. He was angry, and rightfully so, but I hadn’t willingly kept this a secret from him. Did I put in any extra effort to find him? No. Why the hell was that my responsibility, though? I had ways to contact him until he cut them all off. What other kind of power did I have, other than dropping my job and flying around the world to try and figure out where the hell he had gone?
“It wasn’t hard, Syn. I’ve been in contact with Hunter all this time,” he said.
“That how you arranged that little stunt? Voxx is gonna have your hide for that,” I said.
“Then, he can have it. Right after I get some answers.”
“What do you want me to tell you, Gael? That I called you, but you never answered? That I left you so many voice messages that it clogged up your inbox? That when I finally tried your apartment, the damn thing was up for rent?”
“Why didn’t you ask Hunter about me?”
“I did!” I exclaimed.
He blinked. “What?”
“I did ask Hunter about you. Four times. And he said he hadn’t heard from you, nor was he in contact with you.”
“That isn’t true.”
“Yeah, well, don’t go breathing down his throat. I need some sort of professional stuntman on this set, and the last thing I need you to do is scare him off. He was probably protecting you from the big, bad bogeywoman. So, instead of being angry at the world, try being thankful for what it does give you. Which is a damn good friend who’s trying to have your back.”
And a woman willing to deal with your shit because she loves you.
He sighed. “So you didn’t seek the annulment?”
I shook my head. “Gael, it’s—”
“Why didn’t you do it, Syn?”
And I figured, at the very least, he deserved that answer.
His Secret Baby Page 16