by Marni Mann
He sighed. “We just didn’t want to put too much pressure on you to visit after everything that happened.”
I moved over to the sinks and put my butt against the counter. “It’s not pressure at all.”
“I can come pick you up if that makes things easier.”
“No, Dad.” I wrapped an arm around my bare stomach. The last thing I wanted was for him to go out of his way, and coming to get me would be just that. “I don’t need a ride. Please don’t worry about me.”
“All right, baby girl. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I smiled. “I know.”
We said good-bye, and I used the bathroom, washing out my mouth before I returned to Jared’s bed. He stirred when I climbed in, and I pressed my face into his back, hugging my arm around his chest.
“Don’t get up.”
He laughed a deep morning chuckle. “It’s too late for that.”
“You’re going to die when I tell you what time it is.”
He didn’t have a clock in his room. It was one of the things I’d noticed when I got in his bed. And with the shades drawn, unless he checked his phone, there was no way of him knowing.
“It’s eleven.”
“Jesus Christ.”
I laughed, kissing between his shoulder blades. “That should be a, Hell yes.”
His hand went to mine, and he turned onto his back. He pressed something on the nightstand. A small overhead light came on, giving the perfect amount of glow for us to see each other.
“Everything okay?”
I nodded. “It was just my dad.”
His finger went to my chin and slowly dropped down my breast until it rested on my hip. “What are your thoughts on breakfast?”
Goose bumps covered my skin, and I found it hard to inhale. “Would it require leaving?”
He traced lower, going down to my thigh. “It doesn’t have to.”
“Then, how about we find something in your fridge to make, so neither of us has to get dressed?”
“I like that idea.”
I smiled and started to get up from the bed.
His hand tightened around me, pulling me onto his chest. “Not yet.” His lips were on top of my head. “I need a minute of you just like this.”
I was lying across his pecs and the patch of hair that covered them, and I smelled nothing but his scent. My eyes closed. “I could fall asleep again.”
“Me too.”
I knew you were supposed to take new relationships slow, keeping certain things to yourself until it was the right time to say them. But when you had been in a plane that crashed and it was a miracle you and the man you were cuddling had survived, those rules no longer applied.
“Jared,” I said, glancing up so my eyes were on his, “I could stay like this forever.”
His hands surrounded my sides, and he pulled me up his body until my lips were on his.
And his kiss was better than any answer he could have given me.
Fifty-Four
Jared
Watching Billie heal was a journey, one I refused to rush, so I took my time in getting to know this gorgeous woman. I learned the different curves of her smile and the way she reacted when I kissed all the spots on her body. I learned the things that saddened her, the topics that really got her to eat.
And I savored each second.
You see, time was something that had almost been taken away from us, and now, we were spending most of it together.
We had moved fast, and I’d even met Ally.
When the three of us had walked away from that dinner we’d had together, I had known Ally thought I was the most perfect man in the world for her best friend.
I wished like hell that were true.
I wanted it to be.
I wanted to be everything Billie needed.
I wanted to be her end.
But that could never happen. That was where time was working against me. No matter what, this would always be a temporary situation that could never become permanent. So, I made sure to wrap myself around every moment we had together, the same way I was doing right now, grasping her waist as we walked through SoHo.
The air was crisp for spring, but both of us wanted to be outside. There was a coffee in my other hand, a tea in hers. We’d spent the morning cooking in my condo and come out to do some shopping. Not my favorite thing, but I’d learned it was one of hers, and I enjoyed the part where I got to watch her model the outfits.
We weren’t a block past my place when she led me into a boutique. I knew the store well; we’d been several times. When she brought me inside, I assumed she would go to the women’s section, but instead, she went to the men’s. I followed her to a table of ties where she was running her fingers across them.
“Stop.”
She looked at me, and I nodded toward the one her hand was on.
“It’s sharp.”
She smiled as she held the black-and-white-striped tie in her hand, and then she set it against my neck, keeping it there while she gazed at me. “It’s perfect.”
“For what?”
Her smile grew even larger. “Next weekend.”
I’d reached for her waist at some point, holding it while she set the tie on me. Now, my grip was threatening to tighten like my fucking jaw was doing. “What’s next weekend, Billie?”
“I’m going home to visit, and I was hoping you’d come with me.”
Every time she mentioned leaving the city for this trip—and at this point, it had been a few times—I didn’t like it.
Here, I could protect her.
There, I couldn’t.
But this was the first mention of me coming with her, and her face told me she wanted it more than anything.
She pulled the tie off me and rested it across her arm in a way that inferred she was going to buy it. “It’ll be fun. My family is amazing, and they’re dying to meet you. I promise, you’ll have the most wonderful time.”
She had told me all about them.
I knew their names. Occupations. Hobbies.
I even knew the names of the family who had passed.
As Billie looked at me to give her an answer, she stared with so much adoration in her eyes. So much emotion. With me, that girl couldn’t hide her feelings, no matter how hard she tried. She showed it all, and I ate up every goddamn expression.
That was why it killed me to say, “I can’t.” When disappointment came across her face, I added, “I was going to tell you about the party I have to attend next Saturday. It just slipped my mind.”
She said nothing.
“You know I wouldn’t miss the chance of meeting your family unless it was extremely important.” I sighed. “I’m sorry.” My hand clasped down harder, which she would take as an apology.
And it was … for lying.
I was staring at the woman I cared about so deeply, saying words that weren’t close to the truth.
This was my new reality.
The way I chose to live until she despised me.
“It’s okay.” Her hand went to my chest where she kept it close to my heart. “You know I understand, Jared. I used to be the same way about work.”
She hadn’t agreed to fly, but she was starting to open up to the idea.
It had been six months since the crash. I considered that progress in addition to the weight she’d put on, giving her the body I’d admired on the plane.
She was almost there.
That was what I focused on to keep my heartbeat steady, and then I asked, “How are you going to get home?”
She took a drink of her tea. “I’m going to rent a car and drive.”
“That’s a good six hours if you don’t hit any traffic.” I set my coffee down and reached for my phone to shoot off a text to my assistant. “I’ll have Tony drive you.”
“Don’t be silly, Jared.” She put her hand on my wrist, stopping me from typing. “I’m fully capable of driving myself to Maine.”
My teeth ground to
gether again. “Let me at least give you my car.” I put my phone away, my fingers going to her face. “Say yes,” I growled, gazing at her lips, “because I’m not going to let you say no.”
She smiled through my grip. “Yes.”
“Good. Then, it’s settled.”
Except nothing was.
Not a goddamn thing.
Fifty-Five
Honey
Winter 1987
“We have an answer,” Dr. Katz said to the couple as she stood at the end of Honey’s hospital bed.
Several hours ago, the doctor had completed Honey’s abdominal exploratory surgery, the final test that needed to be conducted so they could get to the bottom of what was wrong. When Honey was out of recovery and placed in a private room, she eagerly anticipated for the doctor to give them her findings. Unfortunately, she’d had another surgery, so the couple had had to wait to hear the news.
Honey held her breath as Dr. Katz looked at the chart in her hands. “It’s endometriosis.”
Honey felt the tightening of Andrew’s hand as he held her fingers, and every fear she’d had was confirmed. This was the reason it had taken her so long to get pregnant, why she had miscarried after eight weeks.
If her husband wasn’t a doctor, she probably wouldn’t have had any of these tests done. But when things had started to get harder for Honey each month, she decided she needed answers. And Andrew fought to get them for her.
While Honey went through all the rounds of tests, she did her research, going to the Portland Library and learning everything she could on female infertility. She found there wasn’t a whole lot of information on the subject, but there was enough where she knew what she was facing.
Endometriosis was a term that had come up frequently.
There was no cure, and she knew it meant the chance of her getting pregnant was slim.
“It’s not the worst news,” Dr. Katz said. “But it certainly presents some challenges. I’m going to have you heal up and come to the office next week, so we can discuss things.” She put her hand on Honey’s foot, which was covered with the blanket. “Make sure to get some rest.”
“She won’t be lifting a finger,” Andrew said.
Dr. Katz nodded. “If you need anything, you have my home number.”
“Thank you,” Honey replied softly, and she watched the doctor leave her room.
Andrew was sitting in the chair beside Honey’s bed, and he squeezed her fingers until she finally looked at him. “You’re going to be a mother.”
“Please don’t say that.” She lifted the hand with the IV attached and covered her mouth with it.
“You want me to say I’m giving up? That I don’t think our dreams will eventually come true? Because I won’t do that, baby.” He kissed the top of her knuckles. “I will always be positive, and that’s one of the reasons you married me.”
Honey stopped fighting back the tears, and she let them fall. “I just want a baby.” She hated that the rottenness had returned to her stomach. The emptiness. The fear of knowing nothing would ever fill her belly, that it would be hollow and sad forever, was consuming her.
Today hurt as badly as when she had miscarried.
Except today, she’d found out how broken her body really was.
“You’ll have one,” he said, brushing his lips over her skin. “I promise.”
Honey was grateful to have such a wonderful man by her side. Someone who believed in her with a strength she didn’t have in herself. Someone who never gave up hope.
She rubbed her thumb across her husband’s face and whispered, “I’m so tired.”
“Do you want me to go?”
“No.”
Andrew got up from the chair and climbed into Honey’s hospital bed. He was careful not to touch her stomach so as not to disrupt any of the incisions, and he settled in next to her. With him there, she felt like she could finally close her eyes.
“You’re going to be a mother,” he said right before she drifted off to sleep.
She was too groggy to respond, but if she had the energy, she would have disagreed with him.
Fifty-Six
Jared
Once I looked at my phone, I put my finger in the air, signaling I needed a minute, and I walked outside. As soon as I hit the sidewalk, I swiped the screen and held my cell to my ear. “Billie.”
“Hi.”
I fucking loved the sound of her voice. The simplicity of her greeting but how it was always filled with so much emotion.
“Are you having a good time in Maine?”
Several people walked past me, and I backed up to the very edge of the sidewalk, staying close to the brick building.
“It’s been an extremely busy day. That’s what happens when I return after a long time away.”
She had left Manhattan at five this morning, taking one of my SUVs north. I’d suspected she would be tied down with family obligations from the moment she arrived. It sounded like I was right.
I checked my watch and did the math, calculating it was after ten in the evening there. “You’re home now?”
“Tucked in my old bed like I’m seventeen again.”
My hand went to my forehead, and I brushed it through my hair. “Jesus, the thought of that is both incredibly hot and extremely inappropriate.”
She laughed, and then her tone turned serious. “I wish you were here.”
“Same.”
She was quiet for several seconds. “LA sounds busy.”
Traffic on Franklin Street was bumper to bumper. The sidewalk was just as packed.
Every city had the same noises, so she wouldn’t be able to tell I was actually in San Francisco.
“Nothing I wasn’t already expecting,” I answered, staring at the entrance of Basil’s, seeing the parties file in the door for their reservations.
All because of her.
“Are you going to be able to get some rest?”
“Mmm,” she groaned, and I could tell she was swallowing. I had a feeling it was probably wine. “I’m certainly going to try.”
“I’ll text you when I get back to my hotel. If you’re awake, I’ll call.”
She laughed. “You think a chat with you is going to relax me?”
I rested the back of my foot against the building. “After I tell you what to do with your hands, I have no doubt you’ll be asleep within minutes.”
“That’s worth staying up for,” she said, her tone changing once again.
I smiled and headed back toward the entrance. “I’ll try to wrap things up here as fast as I can.”
I said good-bye and returned to the kitchen where Marcus was in front of the burners, working several pans on the gas stovetop at once.
“The first is a vodka sauce,” he said the second I joined his side.
A pan of pasta was thrown in the air, sauce was then added from a different pot, and the two were combined. Once the ziti was well drenched, he dropped some of the mixture onto a plate and slid it over to me.
I grabbed a fork and waited for him to sprinkle the top with freshly grated Parmesan before I stuck several noodles into my mouth. I chewed the spongy texture, letting the flavor settle before I suggested, “Just a tiny bit of salt.”
He reached into a bowl next to the burners, pinched the white granules, and dropped some in the fry pan. He flipped the pasta multiple times, combining it all together, and then he gave me a new plate.
With a fresh fork, I took a bite, following the same process, keeping my eyes on the food. When I swallowed, I looked up and smiled at my friend. “It’s fucking perfect.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “Add it to the menu and give me another plateful right now.”
His hand went to my shoulder, patting it hard with his palm. “Not yet. I’ve got a few more dishes for you to try.”
He moved several paces down the counter, picking up a bottle of wine. He poured two glasses, handing me one. We clinked them together and both took a sip.
I looked at him, my brows rising. “Who?”
“The girl you’re seeing.”
Marcus wasn’t my oldest friend, but he’d been around since college, and that was a hell of a long time ago. I didn’t discuss Billie with him, but I wasn’t surprised he could tell I was happy.
“I’m responsible for putting her to bed,” I said, “so we’re going to have to cut things short tonight.”
He took another drink, laughing. “Do me a favor. Don’t fuck this one up. I’d like to at least have her here for dinner.”
He had no idea what he was saying.
But I did.
And I wanted to tell him it was too late for that.
But it was pointless because I had a feeling the next time he asked me about the woman I was seeing, Billie would already be out of my life.
Fifty-Seven
Honey
Spring 1987
Honey hadn’t expected to remember the last thing Andrew had said before she passed out after surgery.
But she did.
Every word.
And the next morning, when she woke up, he told her they could discuss her diagnosis whenever she was ready. Honey wasn’t. She wanted to heal and return to work and feel a little more normal before they talked about everything that was broken inside of her.
But while she was waiting to have that talk with Andrew, his words continued to haunt her, and she wasn’t able to let them go.
A week passed, and when it was time to go to Dr. Katz’s office, they still hadn’t had a conversation about it, but their OB/GYN didn’t need to tell them the difficulties they were going to face. As Honey stared back at her, her own eyes showed how petrified she was of this journey.
When the couple left the appointment, Honey vowed not to make any decisions yet. She wanted to see how her body responded if she dropped all expectations. If she gave herself freedom to enjoy things again, to experience sex when it wasn’t just to make a baby.