I prop my hands on my hips and take a deep breath. “I don’t know where she went,” I tell them.
“What did you do?” Jamie seethes.
“Everything...”
“Dude!” Aaron starts, but I cut him off.
“She’s pregnant.” My voice is weak, and I find it hard to speak. I try to swallow against my dry throat, but struggle to. “I found out she’s pregnant.”
I hear Jamie gasp and I turn away from them, unable to look at either of them.
“Is it yours?” Aaron asks like a dumbass.
Anger courses through my veins at the insinuation it wouldn’t be. “Of course it fucking is.” Sighing loudly and rubbing my eyes with the heel of my hands, I suddenly find myself fighting back the rapid onslaught of emotions.
“You’re not happy,” Aaron says quietly, a statement, not a question, and I simply look at him. He’s my brother. He knows me better than anyone. I don’t even need to answer this because he knows; he lived the life I lived. We lived it together. I always swore I’d never bring a child into the world knowing that I couldn’t or wouldn’t commit the time to be the best father. My goal has always been on AM Global, and I’m just building that dream.
“It’s not what I planned—" I begin before Jamie cuts me off.
“Whoa there, buddy,” she says, clearly disgusted with me. Join the fucking club. “I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, but for one goddamn second, you best not be angry at or blame Gracie for this. Last I checked, it takes two to make a baby, and I can goddamn guarantee you she didn’t plan this either.”
“I know how a fucking baby is made,” I bark at her.
She points a finger at me, her long fingernail right in my face. “What did you say to her? She left here crying, Drew,” she asks through gritted teeth.
I take a sharp breath and lace my fingers together behind my head. “I don’t even remember. I was so upset—”
“Bullshit. You know what you said.” Jamie takes another step closer, almost nose to nose with me now. She’s intimidating with her long blonde hair and New York accent. She also most likely knows how to have me killed and disposed of with her New York connections and she looks like she’s ready to call in a favor and do just that. “What did you fucking say to her?” she asks me again.
I take a long pull of air into my lungs and pinch my eyes closed. “That I didn’t want a baby—”
I don’t know if I feel the smack or hear the slap first, but Jamie’s palm meets my cheek and I lurch backward.
“What the fuck!” I yell as Aaron wraps his arms around Jamie’s waist, pulling her back and away from me.
“You son of a bitch!” she screams at me, throwing her arms wildly like she wants a piece of me. “She deserves better than that…better than YOU!” she shouts at me, trying to break free from Aaron’s grip. There is no doubt if she gets free, I’m a dead man. But my heart sinks at what she’s said to me because she’s right. Gracie does deserve better than me. She is the best thing to ever happen to me and I treated her like trash. I treated her and our baby like they were disposable—all because this didn’t happen according to my plan or my timeline.
Because I wasn’t in control.
“You’re a selfish bastard, you know that, right?” She chokes those words out and I look at her. Tears fall from her eyes as Aaron keeps his arms wrapped around her waist. I turn away from both of them, my hand rubbing my cheek where the skin still stings.
On a sob, Jamie continues laying into me. “You don’t deserve her, Drew. I knew you were going to hurt her. I fucking knew it.”
With my back to Jamie, I respond with the most honest words I’ve ever spoken, only I should have said them to Gracie, not Jamie and Aaron. “I didn’t want to hurt her either. I love her.”
“Love her? You don’t know what love is, you selfish prick.” She snorts and I turn around to look at her. “If you love her, you wouldn’t have let her walk out of here. For once in her life, she needed someone to have her back, to support her. Just once…” Her voice breaks. “She carries the burden of everyone else’s problems, Drew. She never catches a break. I thought you were different. I thought you were a break for her. Someone easy for her to love, someone who’d take care of her for once. You are just like everyone else in her life…worthless. Guess I was wrong about you.” Her face twists in disgust. “Gracie is the strongest person I know, and she’ll raise this baby with or without you. But if you’re not on board, you best get the fuck out of New York and never come back here. San Francisco is calling you back, you asshole.”
With those words, she twists out of Aaron’s grasp and flees my office. My throat closes as I think of Gracie being here with our baby, without me, and I feel like I’m suffocating. God, I fucked up. I run my hands through my hair as my stomach continues to twist violently.
“Why would you tell her you didn’t want it?” Aaron asks, seeming genuinely concerned and disappointed in me for once.
I look at my brother and a million memories of our childhood flash through my mind. All the baseball games that I’d look out into the bleachers only to find my mom, and I can’t even remember all of the birthday parties he missed, all because he was “at the office,” building his company.
“Because I’m afraid,” I choke out, my voice breaking. I clear my throat, swallowing back the lump in my throat. “Because I don’t want to be like him.”
He nods in understanding.
“Because I’m so fucking afraid I will be like him, and Grace deserves better than that, our baby deserves better than that. You remember what it was like…” I actually feel tears sting the backs of my eyes. I can’t remember the last time I cried, but the thought of Gracie doing this alone, or worse, allowing someone else to raise my baby, is enough to make me want to vomit.
“I have to find her,” I tell Aaron.
He nods. “Any idea where she might be?”
I shake my head. If someone wants to hide, New York City is the perfect place. “She could be anywhere.”
“Red Hook?” Aaron asks, and I shake my head, doubtful that she’d go back to her apartment. Too easy. “I’ll text Jamie,” he says, pulling his phone from his back pocket. “We need to divide and conquer.”
Aaron shoots a message to Jamie and I mentally run through all the places she might go. Central Park. The library. Jamie’s apartment.
“Jamie is headed home,” Aaron says, reading the text message she must have sent him. “She thinks she might be headed there.”
“I’m going to check Central Park,” I tell him. “It’s her favorite place in the city.” I grab my jacket off the coat rack and slide into it as I take off out the door. I hear Aaron behind me, but I don’t wait for him. I have to find Gracie and make this right; that’s the only thing I care about.
Twenty-Four
Hot tears sting my cheeks as I walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s been a long time since I’ve walked across this bridge, but walking has given me time to think about all the decisions I have to make for me and my baby. I spent the afternoon in Battery Park before walking the waterfront to the Brooklyn Bridge. The sun is setting and the sky darkening when I finally make it across and into Dumbo. I weave through the busy streets and make my way to the nearest bus stop. It’s been a while since I’ve taken the bus, but ease temporarily settles inside me as I fall back into the routine that I was all too familiar with…before Drew.
This is my life—buses, not private cars and drivers. Red Hook, not Chelsea. I was only fooling myself thinking Drew could love someone like me, and he proved that today. I take a seat on the bench at the bus stop, my aching feet breathing a sigh of relief.
Twenty minutes later, I’m exiting the bus in Red Hook, a short three blocks from my apartment. Familiarity hits me here and something inside me stirs. A sense of comfort and ease suddenly envelop me. The smell of the Mr. Pirelli’s pizza place on the corner makes my stomach growl and the sight of the bodega I used to frequent on
ce a week calls to me.
I stop at the bodega and grab a can of soup and a bottle of water, knowing I have nothing in my apartment—not that I ever did. As I get about a block from my apartment, I hear a car slow down next to me, but I ignore it and continue walking. From my peripheral vision, I can tell it’s a Town Car. Fucking Drew and his Town Cars.
“Grace,” the voice calls to me, and I realize it’s Aaron, not Drew. Figures he’d send his brother to do his dirty work.
“Leave me alone,” I call back to him, fumbling with my purse to get my keys out as tears sting the back of my eyes.
“Give me five minutes, Grace.” The car continues to follow me until I hear the brakes squeak and it finally stops in front of me. A car door closes and I see Aaron jogging up next to me.
“I don’t want to talk right now,” I tell him, picking up my pace. My apartment is just coming into view down the street.
A strong hand grabs my arm, stopping me. “Please, Grace. I’m not here to apologize for my brother being a dick…because he needs to do that.”
He’s more than a dick, but my throat is tight and I don’t have it in me to argue right now. I’m tired, both emotionally and physically. I shake my head and feel new tears forming in my eyes. I used to be so strong. I was able to bury my emotions. I never cried, but something inside me broke today and I no longer care about being strong. That’s what I get for opening up my heart.
“I don’t want his apology,” I choke out.
“Fair enough,” he says. He reaches for the bag in my hand and takes it from me. “Just let me make sure you get home safely.” He starts walking beside me. I can see him taking in the surrounding sights of my street in Red Hook. Much like Drew did that first day he came to my apartment, in silent judgment.
“I’ve walked these streets for two years and I’ve always been fine. Tonight won’t be any different,” I tell him, swatting away the now falling tears from my cheeks.
Aaron keeps pace with me but remains silent, simply carrying my bag. When we reach my building, I stop and turn to him, reaching for the bag with my soup and water.
“Please just give me five minutes, Grace,” he pleads with me, holding the bag away from me. “I promise. There’s just some things I need to share with you.”
I sigh, and he reaches for my keys. Reluctantly, I release them into his waiting hand and he opens the door to my building. We walk the stairs to the third floor, the old wood creaking under our feet, and the musty smell hitting us as we ascend and finally reach my place.
As I take the keys back from Aaron and open my apartment door, dark, stale air greets us, a realization that I haven’t been here in weeks. As I flip on the overhead kitchen light, Aaron drops the bag on the kitchen counter and walks over to the old thermostat on the wall to turn on the heat.
“Good luck getting that to work,” I mumble. The temperature doesn’t rise above sixty degrees in the fall and winter.
“It’s freezing in here,” he says, rubbing his hands together while taking in the sight of my dingy old apartment. An apartment I was once so proud of, but I’m sure Aaron is judging me for it. He doesn’t say anything, but I notice the way his eyes take in the stark space, all the furniture I’ve collected from thrift shops and painted or tried to restore on my own.
“You have five minutes starting now,” I tell him, wanting him and his judgment out of my apartment.
He joins me in the small kitchen that really isn’t much of a kitchen; it’s a miniature stove, a tiny fridge, and sink. There are two small cupboards and a tiny free-standing cart that doubles as a kitchen island. Another thrift shop find that I sanded and re-stained.
He pulls a sauce pan from the shelf under the cart and sets it on the stove, then reaches for the bag with the soup. “Can opener?” he asks as he pulls the aluminum can from the bag. I reach into a drawer and pull a handheld can opener out and hand it to him. While he works on opening the can of soup, he begins talking.
“I’m assuming Drew hasn’t told you much about our life growing up,” Aaron starts, glancing at me. I shake my head and hand Aaron a wooden spoon. “Everyone assumes that Drew and I had the perfect life growing up.” He pauses as he dumps the chicken noodle soup in the small pan and slowly stirs it. “But it wasn’t all that great,” he continues. “I mean, our mom was the best.” His lips pull into a smile as he speaks of his mom. “She kept the wheels on our family cart, so to speak.” Drew rarely spoke of his family, but when he did, it was always of his mom. I always wondered about his father, but I didn’t want to appear nosy. I was so thankful I got to meet Rose when we went to Napa, even though our trip was cut short.
He sets the spoon on the spoon rest I have on the counter next to the small stove. “But what no one knew was the anger Drew and I developed growing up in that house.” He turns to me and rests his hip against the kitchen cabinet. “See, my dad was busy building an advertising empire—the one Drew owns and I work for—and we should be thankful for it, but it came at a cost. We lived a pretty cushy life in Napa, while our dad spent most of his time at his other home in San Francisco. He never attended one of our football or baseball games. He never once attended parent-teacher conferences or took us driving when we finally got our driver’s permits.” His eyes hold a sadness I’ve never seen before and he swallows hard before continuing once again.
“He was never around. Ever. He even missed our birthdays, Grace.” He sighs loudly. “When Drew and I were in college, we came home for Christmas one year and our dad never came to Napa to celebrate with us. We spent two weeks in Napa and didn’t see him once.”
Aaron pauses and grabs the spoon to stir the soup again. “Early on, I learned he wasn’t going to be a prominent fixture in my life or Drew’s. I guess I was unaffected by the lack of a relationship I had with my dad, but Drew, he always took it hard. He’s the one who would act out in his absence. He always wanted the attention of our father, and our father was too busy to give a shit. He’s the one that took it personally that our dad neglected us. Drew needed him and I didn’t. We were just built differently.” He shrugs, but I see how the pain has chipped away at his casual exterior. It affects him; he’s just learned to control it.
And I guess I can see what he’s saying, how he and Drew are different. Aaron seems disconnected from personal relationships, where Drew strives to grow them. Drew wants to know every intimate detail; Aaron wants the surface details. It’s crazy how two men, the same blood, can be so vastly different.
“What I’m getting at is that Drew vowed from a very young age to never be like our father. Only, he’s become the one most like him. When our dad was dying, it was Drew who said he wanted to own and run McPherson Advertising. I didn’t give a shit about owning it. Drew wanted to manage the finite details, I just wanted a job. It was Drew’s ambition that got McPherson Advertising to where it was when he bought Williams Global, and in doing so, he started seeing more and more of our father in himself. He mentioned it to me last week, and…it eats at him.”
Aaron turns the knob to shut off the burner for the soup that’s now boiling in the sauce pan. “After everything that happened with Melissa, he told my mom he never saw himself getting married or having kids because he thought he was becoming exactly what he said he’d never become—just like our father. She shared this with me in confidence. I thought he was burying himself in work as a means of getting over Melissa…which he was, but I always knew he wanted more than just a career.” He pauses.
I swallow hard as I reach into the cupboard and pull down two bowls, handing them to Aaron. He takes them from me and carefully spoons soup into the two bowls while continuing on with his story.
“Then he met you, Grace. You changed the narrative to his story. I could see he finally wanted something other than his career—he loves you. You know he loves you—I know he loves you...and I thought he was ready for more…but I think it just happened all too fast.”
“He said he didn’t want our baby,” I say, barely a
bove a whisper. “His words were full of contempt and…” I pause taking a deep breath. “I understand he was caught off guard, but so was I.” My eyes sting with newly formed tears and I swallow hard against the growing lump in my throat. “But, I never, not even for one fraction of a second, didn’t want our baby.” I look up and meet Aaron’s gaze. His eyes appearing misty.
“And I guarantee you, Drew feels the same. I think he used the wrong words to express what he was feeling—” he says with certainty.
I shake my head, disregarding his assumption. If only Aaron could have seen the look on his face. The way he looked at me, his eyes full of disgust. “Can I ask you a favor?” I ask Aaron as I carry the two bowls of soup over to the small bistro table that is my kitchen table.
“Anything.” He follows me.
“I need you to make some calls for me.”
He looks at me perplexed. “Calls for what?” He slides into the wooden chair across from me.
“I need you to help me get a job at another agency.”
His eyes drop from mine to the bowl of soup in front of him.
I sigh, feeling desperate. I need someone’s help, and it’s not going to be Drew. “I plan to do this alone, Aaron. Everything else in my life, I’ve done on my own.” My voice breaks and I can feel my chin quiver as my emotions bubble to the surface once again. “I can do this too, but I can’t see him every day. I’m not strong enough.”
“Grace.” He says my name softly.
“Please. It’s the only thing I’ll ever ask you to do for me.” There is an edge of desperation in my voice.
He rests his elbows on the edge of the table and pinches his eyes closed, burying his face in his hands.
“Please.”
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