In Bounds

by Bronwyn Green

  As soon as she heard the key in the lock and the deadbolt tumbling over, tears slid down her cheeks. “I love you, too.”

  * * * *

  The next morning, Ivy texted Peyton and Sarah to let them know that she was going to catch the train back to Charlotte’s. Ivy needed to tell her everything and clear the air. She had no idea where that would leave their friendship. As afraid as she was of losing Charlotte, she also needed to be done with all of the secrets.

  “You doing okay?” Peyton asked. She’d refused to let Ivy take the train and had been waiting for her outside Will’s flat as Ivy had dragged her suitcase outside and locked the door. Now, they were turning onto the long winding drive that led to Charlotte’s house.

  Ivy forced a smile. “I’m all right.”

  “Yes, that off-to-the-gallows expression is quite convincing.”

  Ivy snorted.

  “It’s going to be okay. Promise. And some day, we’ll even laugh about this.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Ivy muttered.

  “I’m always right.” Peyton grinned at her. “I was thinking...while I’m out this way, I figure I might as well visit my gran,” Peyton said, pulling up in front of the main entrance. “I don’t think they will, but if things go really bad with Charlotte, text me, and I’ll come get you.”

  “Okay.”

  “And if they’re fine, and you decide to stay and visit for a bit, let me know, and I’ll likely head back to the city.”

  Ivy reached over and hugged Peyton. “Thank you. For everything.” She blinked back the ever-present tears that threatened.

  “No need to thank me, ducks. We both know you’d do the same if the situation were reversed. Now, go talk to her.”

  Ivy nodded, grabbed her bag from the trunk and waved as Peyton and her little red sports car left. Turning, she headed for the front door that Charlotte already held open for her. “Hey, you.”

  Charlotte smiled and immediately pulled her into a hug. “I missed you. Was that Peyton?”

  “I missed you, too. And yeah, it was. She’s pretty great.”

  Charlotte grabbed Ivy’s suitcase and herded her inside. “Get in here, and tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself while I’ve been gone.”

  “Actually, yeah...I really need to talk to you about that.” She followed Charlotte into the kitchen.

  Her friend’s brow furrowed, but concern quickly replaced confusion. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

  “Where are the kids?”

  “At my mum’s—after a month of not seeing them, she was losing her mind.” She studied Ivy for a moment. “Do we need booze for this? I feel like this might be a wine-worthy conversation.”

  “That might not be a bad idea for you, but I’m going to pass.”

  Charlotte pulled a half-full wine bottle from the fridge. “What?” She laughed. “Are you pregnant?”

  Ivy didn’t answer. If she opened her mouth, she was going to cry. Again. And she was so fucking sick of crying.

  Charlotte whirled to face her. “Ivy?”

  “Do you mind if I get some water a sec?”

  Charlotte shook her head and pulled a cup out of the cupboard and handed it to Ivy then tugged the cork out of the bottle and took a swallow without bothering with a glass.

  After getting the water, Ivy said, “Sunroom?”

  Charlotte kept her grip on the wine and nodded. Once they were seated, she said, “Seriously, Ives, are you pregnant?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “You know, when I told you needed to get shagged, this wasn’t quite the outcome I’d hoped for.”

  Ivy nodded, thinking about how much truer that would be when Charlotte learned the rest.

  “If you are, what do you want to do? Have you done a test? You know I’ll support you either way, right?”

  Ivy nodded again. “I haven’t done a test, but I’m three weeks late. And I don’t have a damn clue what I’d do. Also...” She took a deep breath then forged ahead. “It’s a lot more complicated than just a possible pregnancy.”

  “Christ, I can’t even with this. And what the hell happened? Who’s the bloody father?”

  Ivy’s hand tightened around the glass, and she took a deep breath. “It’s Will.” Charlotte was unsettlingly silent, and Ivy rushed to fill the void, nodding at the bottle her friend still clenched. “You might want to start drinking in earnest, now.”

  Ivy looked down at her glass to see the water practically sloshing over the sides and set it on the coffee table. Lacing her fingers together to keep her hands from trembling, Ivy told her everything—from Justin dumping her the night before the wedding to Will in the closet, to the abortion, to her parents no longer speaking to her, to everything that happened since Charlotte had gone to the States—leaving out the sex details and marriage proposal. She didn’t need to know her brother was kinky as fuck, and sharing what basically amounted to a pity proposal would just make Ivy feel even more pathetic. When she finished, she waited for Charlotte to say something. Anything.

  When she finally met Ivy’s gaze, her big green eyes—so much like Will’s—were glossy with unshed tears. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’m supposed to be your best friend. Why wouldn’t you tell me any of this?”

  The tears that Ivy had managed to keep at bay burst free, and for a moment, she couldn’t catch her breath. It only got worse when Charlotte put her arms around her and held her.

  “I’m so—sorry.” Ivy hiccupped. “I didn’t want—” she took a ragged breath— “to ruin your wedding or your honeymoon, so I waited until you came home to tell you about Justin.”

  “I always knew he was a prick,” Charlotte muttered. If Ivy remembered correctly, Charlotte had said nearly the same thing when Ivy had talked to her and Caleb after they’d gotten back from their trip.

  “I didn’t mean to sleep with Will. I didn’t—I—”

  Charlotte pulled back and stared into Ivy’s face. “Was that...consensual?”

  “Yes. He would never— I mean, I’m the one who jumped him. And Jesus. I only just found out how young he was. I’m horrified.” She put her hands over her face.

  She swiped at her tears. “And I couldn’t tell you about the pregnancy. Or the termination. At first, it was just too much, and I was afraid you’d be angry that I’d had sex with Will. And while I knew how you felt about abortion, but I didn’t know if you’d feel differently when your brother was involved.”

  Charlotte reached out and took her hand.

  “I thought about telling you when I told my parents. But after what happened with them...I was afraid of losing you, too.”

  “You wouldn’t even be telling me now if you and Will hadn’t gotten together, would you?”

  Shame burned her face, and she slunk down into the couch cushions. “Probably not.”

  Charlotte squeezed Ivy’s fingers. “You know this is a lot to process, right?”

  Ivy nodded. “I’m aware.”

  “I’m probably going to be doing it for a while.”

  “Trust me, I get that.” She pulled her hand from Charlotte’s grasp and stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I figured I’d call Peyton and have her come pick me up. Give you time to think.”

  “Sit down. You’re not going anywhere.”

  Ivy stared at Charlotte, not moving.

  “Sit.”

  Ivy slowly lowered herself onto the couch again and waited.

  Charlotte took a drink from the wine bottle she held and sighed, staring off into the distance. Ivy wished she knew what the other woman was thinking.

  “This doesn’t change anything, you know. You’re still my best friend. Will’s still my brother.” She swallowed another mouthful of wine. “This is all just going to take some getting used to.” She glanced at Ivy. “A lot of getting used to.”

  Relief Ivy never imagined she’d feel spread through her like a feverish wave—prickly and hot—and she took a shuddering breat
h.

  “Does Will know?”

  Ivy leaned forward and gulped down half her water. “He does now. I told him everything last night.”

  Charlotte stared at her, and Ivy tried not to fidget. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “If you are pregnant, what are you going to do? And before you answer,” she rushed to say, “my previous statement still stands. I’ll support you—no matter what.”

  Ivy’s head, already throbbing, got worse, and she dropped it into her hands. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

  She’d thought of almost nothing else since she’d realized she was late. If she were actually pregnant, she was leaning toward keeping it. She was in a far different place at this stage of her life than she had been at twenty-three. And while she had no doubt she’d made the best choice then, she wasn’t sure that same choice would be the right one now.

  If the test turned out positive, she wouldn’t marry him just because she was pregnant, but she wouldn’t keep him from a child, either. Will would be an incredible father.

  Charlotte rubbed her hand up and down Ivy’s back. “Do you love him?”

  Ivy closed her eyes against the fucking tears that flooded back without warning. Even if she and Will didn’t end up together, she loved him—more than she’d ever loved anyone else. That was becoming more painfully clear by the hour. She nodded.

  “Oh, poppet...” Charlotte put her arm around Ivy’s shoulder and rested her head against Ivy’s.

  “I didn’t mean to.” She sniffled. “I’m sorry.”

  Charlotte leaned back and tilted her head to the side. “What are you sorry for?”

  “I know you didn’t want me dating Will.”

  Charlotte frowned at her. “I don’t think that’s what I said. And it certainly wasn’t what I meant.”

  “You said I needed to get laid, but ‘not Will’.”

  The frown deepened. “Are you talking about the conversation we had before I left for the States?”

  Ivy nodded.

  Charlotte laughed and shook her head. “How is it that a brilliant teacher who can manage to connect with even the most difficult children is just utter pants at details?”

  “What are you talking about?

  “I said ‘not Wills’ because I didn’t want you to end up with another broken heart. I didn’t want you to get hurt. From what I’ve seen, he really doesn’t do committed—I mean, he’s off and on with Peyton all the time.” She winced and sighed. “I’m so sorry if I’ve just made things awkward between you and Peyton.”

  Ivy laughed. “You didn’t. Peyton and I are good. I really like her, and I know all about their friends-with-benefits past.”

  “A lot of women would want to claw her eyes out.”

  Ivy sighed and slumped back against the couch. “I’m not saying that I don’t get the occasional bout of insecurity wondering the hell Will sees in me when he could be with her.”

  “He sees you, dummy.”

  Ivy rolled her eyes.

  Charlotte slumped next to her, still clutching the wine. “I have to admit...it was impossible not to notice how Will was constantly focused on you before we left. Well...at the wedding rehearsal, too, for that matter.” She laughed. “Never thought we’d end up here.”

  “Sooner or later, the novelty will wear off.”

  Charlotte turned her head and scowled. “You’re in love with him.”

  “We’ve been over that.”

  “Who’s to say he’s not in love with you?”

  Ivy looked away.

  “He is. And you don’t believe him.”

  She took a deep breath. “He asked me to marry him.”

  “Really?”

  Ivy swallowed past the lump in her throat. “It’s just because of the possible pregnancy.”

  Charlotte sighed. “Or...you know...he loves you and wants to be with you.” When Ivy didn’t respond, Charlotte continued, “Look, no matter how this plays out, you two are going to have figure out a way to get along. I’m not losing either one of you to awkwardness and hurt feelings. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  Charlotte raised her bottle in a mock toast and drained the rest of it.

  That night, Ivy tossed and turned in the bed in the guest cottage, unable to get comfortable and missing Will. She’d gotten far too accustomed to falling asleep in his arms, his warm breath on the back of her neck and one of his big hands cupping her breast. She’d picked up her phone to text him at least seventy-three different times, but she’d always put it down again. What would she even say?

  She stared at it again and managed to drop it on her face when the text tone chimed. Will.

  I miss you. I have no idea where you are, but I’m pretending you’re in my bed waiting for me.

  She swallowed. I’m at Charlotte’s. In the cottage. After a long pause, she added. I miss you, too.

  Her phone rang. She swiped across the screen to answer it.

  “Are you okay?” he asked as soon as she answered.

  “Yeah.”

  “What about you and Chaz? Everything okay there?” His concern was unmistakable.

  “We’re okay. She was...surprised. But she didn’t retroactively freak out at me for corrupting you. So, that’s something.”

  He laughed, and her heart ached at the thought of not hearing that sound every day. Which would be exactly what happened when she went back home. There was still the possibility of a long-distance relationship, she reminded herself. But was that fair to either of them?

  A surge of nausea washed over her. She sat up and groaned.

  “What’s the matter?” Will asked.

  “The pizza we ate earlier isn’t settling very well.”

  Will was quiet for a few minutes. “You sure it’s not something else?”

  She sighed. “No. I’m not sure at all, but I’m choosing to think it’s the pizza.”

  “Fair enough. I should let you get some rest. Feel better, love.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “I love you.”

  Before she could even open her mouth, he’d disconnected, almost as if he didn’t want to hear her silence in response. She did love him, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. If he knew how she truly felt, it would be that much harder for her to walk away when this all came crashing down. Her heart ached at the thought that she was hurting him in the meanwhile, though.

  Her stomach lurched, again, and cramps settled low in her back and abdomen. As she lay there willing away the pain and wondering if Charlotte had anything for an upset stomach, she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. All at once, her vision started to get a bit wonky—the precursor to a migraine. It wasn’t the pizza. She recognized the signs—she was getting her period.

  The relief she expected to feel was absent. Instead of a reprieve, the only thing she felt was emptiness, and she missed Will more than ever. She considered texting him, but tomorrow was soon enough for the news.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Will stared at the message in the middle of his screen.

  I just started my period. We’re in the clear.

  They weren’t going to have to make a decision either way. Was she okay? Was he? He couldn’t tell a fucking thing from this message other than the marriage he was hoping to convince her was a great idea wasn’t happening. It wasn’t that he wanted to trick her into marrying him, but he couldn’t help but think that if they had more time, she’d finally see how amazing they were together.

  And how the hell was he supposed to respond? Thanks for letting me know? Marry me anyway? Before he could come up with anything that resembled a coherent answer, his phone chimed again.

  Can we talk later?

  He swallowed hard. Yeah. Of course.

  He waited and watched his phone for some kind of response. For some indication of what she wanted to talk about. But it didn’t come. And he knew. Now that the
scare had passed, she was going to tell him it was over. He knew exactly how this would go down. She’d tell him that it had been fun, but it had only ever been temporary, and she was getting on the first flight she could back to the States.

  The truth was she was too fucking scared of being hurt again, to admit that what they had was real and worth fighting for. And in a way, he got that. She’d been rejected by the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally. Her parents. Her husband. It was really no surprise she couldn’t trust Will enough to believe he loved her. He supposed he could console himself with the knowledge that he’d at least get to hear her voice again when she told him to shove off.

  “Fuck me,” he muttered, and threw the phone in his gym bag. He needed to get his focus back on the game where it belonged. He’d deal with the pain of losing Ivy later. When he was alone. In his flat where there would be reminders of her everywhere, and where her pillow and the sheets probably still smelled like her. He rubbed his hand over his face and forced away the phantom memory of her scent.

  * * * *

  “What the Christ is your damage, Darby?” the coach yelled from the sidelines as Will left the pitch after the match.

  He wiped the sweat from his face with his kit as he jogged toward the other man. “What?”

  “You’re supposed to be easing back into this—not playing like you’ve never been injured. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but dial it the fuck back, or I’m not playing you at all Friday.”

  They stared at each other for several long, uncomfortable moments then Will nodded once and headed for the locker room, ignoring Simon who fell into step alongside him.

  “What’s crawled up your arse?” Simon asked.

  “Fuck off.”

  “Fine. Take a shower. You can tell me over a pint after.”

  After Will toweled off his hair and put on his pants, his phone rang. Both hoping and dreading it was Ivy, he glanced at the screen—Charlotte. Taking a breath, he answered. “Is this where you bitch me out for not listening to you?”

  “Hello to you, too.”

  He pulled his shirt over his head and switched the phone from hand to hand as he shoved his arms through the sleeves. “So, that’s not why you called?”