Meant to Be Broken

by Brandy Woods Snow

  Once more, I want to enjoy the warmth of her skin. Experience the way her hand curves neatly in mine. I lean forward, folding my fingers around hers when a piece of paper, shoved under her arm, scrapes my skin. It’s folded into a neat square, but its edges are dog-eared and yellowed as if it’s been handled frequently. A twinge of guilt creeps in, saying I shouldn’t be nosing into Rayne’s private business, but the one part of the handwriting that’s visible piques my interest.

  “…when he returns to you, my girl. I love you, Mama.”

  I unfold it despite my hesitations and read the words with tears in my eyes. Mrs. Davidson knew all along I loved her daughter. She told Rayne I’d return for her. But now, if after all this time she’s with Preston, then why is this here?

  A nurse knocks on the door and sticks her head in to see if we need anything. I say no, but then think better of it.

  “Uh, ma’am?”

  She steps inside the door with a smile. “Yes?”

  “This note… it was under her arm?” I hold it up in the air so she can see for herself.

  Recognition filters into her expression. “Oh yes. Miss Davidson had it under her pillow, and it dropped to the floor in all the excitement earlier. It was originally found on her person when she was brought in after the attack. We figured it must be something special and didn’t want her to lose it. Can you make sure she gets it when she comes to?”

  I swallow hard and stare at the words and, below that, the silver medallion. The one from her homecoming corsage.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see she gets this.”

  She clasps her hands in front of her chest. “Wonderful. In the meantime, if you need anything,” she says pointing at the control panel on the bed. “I’m just a buzz away.”

  She disappears out the door, and I refocus on the letter. This must be what Preston was talking about. Here he’s got a life with Rayne and their baby, but she’s still carting around memorabilia from our relationship. My heart flutters at the thought of her, reading and rereading this every night, waiting on our lives to resume from the ashes. She still loves me. At least a little. The euphoria crashes over me then rushes out just as fast, replaced by a gnawing in my gut. If she loves me, and I love her, then how are we ever going to manage good-bye?

  Chapter 57

  Rayne

  W

  hen I wake up, everyone’s gone. Except one.

  Gage is sitting by my bed. He’s pulled up the teal arm chair and is leaning forward, elbows on knees, and head in his hands. I want to hate him, but I can’t. It goes against every cellular-level craving in my body. He’s mine and no one else’s, and while he’s sitting here alone, it’s easy to pretend he always will be. There are things we need to discuss. I’m not stupid, but I need this moment to last just a little longer because I’m not ready to look in his blue eyes and know we don’t have a tomorrow. I love him. For me, there’s no one else.

  He lifts his head, staring back at me. His eyes hollow, haunted. “Hey you.”

  I love you, I love you, I love you. Please don’t leave me. The pleadings crowd my head, but I squelch them. “Hey yourself. What happened?”

  “Charlotte was arrested. The entire confession was on the bear’s memory drive. You’re safe.”

  I’m safe because of him. Here he is, involved with someone else and still saving me. We’re meant to be together, and I’m sure of it now more than ever. But how do you tell someone you love them, that they’re the one, when they’re with someone else? When does it quit being about them and start being about you? Is it right to tell the truth or is it selfish? He’s given me everything, including my son, and I can’t take away his chance at happiness.

  As always, I rely on smartass responses to hide the pain. “Yeah? Well, thank God for that bear then.”

  “Didn’t look too thankful in the first part of the video. I recall something like you flipping it off?” He bites his lower lip and arches his eyebrows.

  Caught in the act. No one was ever supposed to see that. “I can neither confirm nor deny.” Gage narrows his eyes and stifles a laugh. “Fine, I did. Blame it on hormones.”

  “Nah, you were like that way before the hormones,” he jokes but quickly turns serious, resting his hand on my stomach. “Doc patched you up. Gave you something to stop the hemorrhaging you caused when you tried to whip Charlotte’s ass. Still wishing I could’ve seen you do it.”

  We’re dancing around the subject so much I’m dizzy. If I’m coming out of this alive, it’s time to get moving. “Why are you here Gage?”

  He swallows hard and sits back in the chair. “Preston thought we should talk.”

  So this isn’t of his own accord. Preston forced this. “You’re here for Preston?”

  “Is that easier for you to believe? No. I’m here for you. I read this…” He pulls my note from his pocket and lays it on the bed. It’s folded inside out with the words “when he comes back to you” in black script against the white blanket. “Should we talk about it?”

  I shrug my shoulders because speaking at this moment means crying, and I’m holding on to the promise I made myself that I’m staying strong for my baby. I can’t crumble.

  “There’s so much I want to tell you, Rayne, like the places I went, the people I met.” One person in particular I’m sure. Hearing his love-at-first-sight epic romance isn’t topping my entertainment list. Thankfully, he’s not talking about her right now. “I found my grandparents, aunt, even cousins.”

  He has family. Real roots, real people. Over the next 10 minutes, he tells me about his mother, Mary-Leighton Harrington, her childhood, her well-to-do family of strong military lineage and deep Southern traditions, and newfound aunt and several cousins close to his own age. For the first time, my black sheep has found his niche.

  “You’ve met one of my cousins already,” he adds. “Taryn? She came with me yesterday.”

  I’m not expecting it. Surely, I’m delusional. Maybe it’s a dream, and I’m about to wake up. But when I look, he’s still sitting there, nodding, as if he didn’t just drop a bomb. The feeling is somewhere between the rush of riding a roller coaster and having all five numbers on the Powerball ticket. “Taryn’s your cousin?” I say, laughing so hard I hardly choke it out.

  He stares at me, eyes scrunched together in confusion. I’m stupid and embarrassed about being so hateful to this girl, refusing to call her by name, shooting her ugly glances. She’s probably told him to run for the hills by now, away from my crazy ass. His eyes are far-off as he puts it all together. Any minute now he’s going to laugh along with me. Only he doesn’t. He’s serious, which doesn’t happen often, as the pieces fall into place.

  He moves to the bed, sitting so close now, his thigh grazes my side as he pulls my hand into his. “Rayne, did you think…?” He pauses, eyes searching mine, breath labored. “Did you believe…?” The tears well up in my eyes. Dammit. I don’t want to cry. “Baby… no. Never.” I’m short of breath now too, and the only thing running through my mind is that he called me “baby.”

  He continues, “Dammit. I swore I wasn’t going to do this.”

  “Do what?” I whisper, not taking my eyes off him.

  He bites his upper lip between his teeth, pausing to consider his words. “Interfere. Say things I shouldn’t. But I can’t look you in the eye, I can’t be this close to you, and not be honest. I can’t keep hiding from you.” He cups my chin in one hand and slides the other up my arm, the tingles taking over, running up and down, round and round inside like a tornado. “Rayne, there’ll never be anyone else for me except you. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you that since you’re with Preston but…”

  A burning circulates deep in my lungs, like fingers of fire weaving through my chest. My breathing adopts the rhythm of a drum beat, each thud reverberating in a wave. I blurt out the truth before my brain interferes, the words pouring out with lightning speed and no pauses in between. “I’m not with Preston. We lied. It w
as all pretend for the baby.”

  Gage sits up, running his fingers through his hair, and then leans back in, grabbing my shoulders. “You and Preston aren’t together?”

  “No. I can’t be with him when I still love you.” I reach up, grabbing his cheeks, and pull him nose to nose. “I can’t live without you anymore. I love you. Only you. Do you still love me?”

  “Always.” He plunges his lips into mine, so hard it knocks me back into the pillows, but I don’t mind. I pull him closer, needing more, not wanting to let go. His mouth is hungry, eager, and mine, just as much so, crushes back into his. I want him bad, which is slightly ridiculous since I just had a head trauma followed by major abdominal surgery.

  The doctor, and my general health, would frown on the things I want to do right now. But just wait. In six to eight weeks, this boy better get ready for the months I’ve held this all back. It’s like he’s unleashed a fire inside I didn’t even know was there anymore, and all I can imagine is us together again. Like we were in Edisto. Like I’ve replayed a million times since.

  He tilts my head to the side, softly planting rows of kisses down my neck to the tender spot that always sends shivers coursing through me. He stops, holding his mouth against the curve of my neck, smiling.

  “I’ve missed you. I haven’t stopped thinking of…” he begins.

  A nurse interrupts us, opening the door wide and rolling in a bassinet. Gage quickly sits up, and I grab his hand, interlacing our fingers and squeezing. My baby. Our baby. I can already see a tuft of dark hair and a small fist extending up into the air. With the first coo, my heart skips, and I extend my arms out to take him. The nurse nestles him to me, soft and new-smelling, with my eyes and Gage’s nose. I’m not prepared for the surge of emotion that hits me. It’s a rush to finally hold the life you created. It’s mind-blowing seeing both of your features reflected back in harmony. It legitimizes your connection. I look up at Gage and find that holding our child instantly changes my feelings for him. They’re stronger, deeper, and hotter than ever before.

  The nurse tells me Preston came in earlier to dress him for the occasion, and when I see the white smocked outfit I know why. In blue embroidery on the chest, it says “Daddy’s Boy.” This is Preston’s blessing, his green light to our family, but Gage can’t understand, because I haven’t told him the best part.

  He blanches, his face ghostly white and he swallows hard, backing away from me. “I can’t do this, no matter how much I love you. Work it out with Preston. Y’all have a baby who needs his father…” Gage says, pushing himself off the bed. I grab his hand. It trembles in mine.

  “Yes, he does need his father,” I say, our baby warm against my chest. “I need his father, too. Don’t leave us, Gage, because you’re his daddy.”

  Chapter 58

  Gage

  I’

  m the daddy.

  Hell yeah.

  She doesn’t love Preston. She never did.

  It was always me.

  Always.

  The baby’s ours.

  She’s mine, and I’m hers.

  Like I’ve always been.

  And always will be.

  This is only the beginning.

  I slide my phone from my pocket and call Dad. He answers on the first ring. “Dad, there’s something I need to do, and I’d love it if you came with me.”

  Chapter 59

  Rayne

  G

  age Lucas Howard, Jr.—AKA Luke, Lukey, or Luke-man depending on who’s holding him at the time. It’s hard to believe he’s two months old, so wiggly and handsome. I sit on Daddy’s couch, holding him and watching Gage pack up the Scout. Today’s the day we officially start our life together. Today’s the day we go home to Edisto.

  It’s impossible to believe the things that’ve happened over these months, but I’ve lived them, so I know them to be the gospel truth. After I revealed everything to Gage and after he had to sit down a minute to absorb my words, I knew we’d be okay when he rushed headlong from the chair and smashed his lips into mine once again, taking time out only to kiss Luke on the head. We’re both thankful for forgiveness and love that kicks your ass and puts you back together even when you screw it all up.

  Charlotte’s in prison, where she belongs, and she’ll be there for a long time if the lawyers have anything to say about it, which pleases Jackson who, for the first time in his life, is happy and carefree. It’s never so evident as when he’s playing with Luke.

  Daddy’s still working hard, traveling often, but must be trying for “Grandpa of the Year” because he never comes home from a business trip without some kind of souvenir for the baby. Preston’s started spring semester but is going on to Clemson in the fall. It’s done my heart good to see him and Gage repairing their relationship, back to the way it used to be.

  Four-and-a-half hours later, the sand and gravel crunches under our tires as we pull in the drive, our home’s exterior completely redone in marine blue and white, a total departure from its original worn gray. The pictures Gage had shown me from his phone didn’t do the place justice.

  “Wow.” I scoot close to the dashboard and look up at it.

  “There’s still a lot to be done, but we’ll get there.” He jumps out and comes around to my door, helping me out, then reaches in the back and retrieves a sleeping Luke from his car seat. “Come on,” he nods toward the stairs and I follow behind. The hand rails have been sanded smooth and painted a crisp white and there are, like, twenty steps to take us to the main living level. The stairs open into a wraparound porch. There’s a swing at the end, overlooking the Atlantic.

  “You know I like this,” I laugh, sitting down and giving a little push with my legs.

  “It’s the very first thing I did. For you. It’s where I slept that first night back here after I found out about you and Preston.” He rubs the wooden swing arm, a grimace on his face as he remembers. “Rough night.”

  I stand up, grab his chin and pull him down to me. “Let’s never be that stupid again,” I say and then kiss him hard.

  “I won’t if you won’t,” he whispers. “Let’s get Luke down, and I’ll show you the place.”

  “Get him down? We don’t even have his bed set up yet.”

  “You doubt me, woman?” Gage laughs and leads me through the front door. We walk room to room, each spacious and beachy, though dated. The house needs serious TLC, except for two rooms in the back that look professionally renovated.

  “Luke’s gift from his Nana Harrington.” He smiles and sweeps his hand around the room. It’s beautifully decorated in pale blues and neutrals with matching furniture and fully equipped with wipes and diapers and a large oak rocker in the corner. In the center of the room is a hand-carved wooden bassinet with ivory bedding. Gage runs his hand along the edge. “This one’s a family heirloom. My mom slept here.” He lowers Luke onto the tiny mattress. The baby sputters a little, readjusts his fingers, but never opens his eyes.

  Gage walks back to me and squats down to eye-level. “Now I can show you our gift.” He leads me down the hall to the next door, a master bedroom done up in white and neutrals with a large iron bed. A trickle of sun shines through the window sheers, bathing the room in golden light.

  “It’s amazing,” I gasp, breathless.

  “You don’t know the half of it.” He pulls me to him, hands grasping the back of my head as he tugs me in for a kiss, moving fast over my lips and tongue. He breaks away and holds his arm up to my face, tapping his watch. “We have at least an hour before the others get here, and baby’s asleep. You’ve been cleared by the doctor, and it’s been a long almost eleven months. How ‘bout we break it in?” He nods toward the bed and slides his fingers down the front of my shirt, unfastening the first few buttons and baring my breasts.

  There are no words as I tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling him down into me. “This has been a long time coming,” I say, sliding the belt from his jeans.
r />   “And well worth the wait,” he agrees and pulls me onto the bed.

  Later, he’s still tangled in the sheets, dozing off and on, when I get up, slip on my clothes and check on Luke, who’s still sleeping peacefully. I walk out to the porch and sit on my swing. The waves slap the shoreline in an uneven rhythm, and the sky is gray except for a sliver of sunlight dancing far off on the water’s surface.

  I love those two so much, but how are we going to do this? We’re not much more than kids ourselves, and now we have one of our own. Neither of us even have mothers to offer advice, to tell us we’re not irrevocably screwing up our kid as we navigate this parenting thing. How will I know what to do when he gets his first fever or his first tooth or his first heartbreak? I’m almost nineteen and Gage twenty, but talk about jumping in with both feet. No, it’s not the way I planned my life, but now I know, I wouldn’t change a thing.

  Because we have love. We didn’t come all this way for nothing. Our love is more than most people get in a lifetime, and so no matter our age, we owe it to ourselves, and little Luke, to grab hold and enjoy every up and down along the way. Maybe it’ll be messy. Maybe there’ll be surprises, but we’ll make it through. It’s what we do.

  Footsteps echo on the stairs, snapping my thoughts back to the present. It’s Preston, Jackson, and Daddy to deliver my car and more of our stuff. I’m happy they’ll all be spending our first night here with us.

  “We come bearing gifts,” says Jackson and shakes a few grocery bags in his arms. “The men are cooking my famous Lowcountry boil.”

  Preston walks past him on the steps and bends down to kiss my cheek. “Hope you’re hungry. He makes a ton.” He pauses and looks around. “Where’s the big dope?”

  “Napping,” I say but Gage suddenly walks through the door, now fully clothed but disheveled, with a hungry Luke in his arms.