When Forever Changes

by Siobhan Davis

  “But you were with her.”

  “Yes, but it was only ever sex.” I knew he was sleeping with her, but, God, that admission still hurts so damn much. He, at least, has the decency to look ashamed. “I’m not proud of my actions, Dimples, but I can’t undo them, unfortunately.” He rubs soothing circles on the back of my hand. “You don’t need to worry about Bianca. I took care of it in the hospital. I don’t even know why she was still around, because I treated her pretty terribly too. I was furious when I heard what she’d done, how she’d spoken to you, and I ripped Mom a new one for not standing up to her.”

  “Heather was upset and afraid for you, Dylan. I knew if it was any other circumstance, she would have.”

  “Well, that’s not something that will ever happen again. Bianca is gone, and I’m here now, and no one will be speaking to you like that again.”

  “Thanks, Freckles.” I return my head to his shoulder. “It’ll just be like old times. When we were besties.”

  “Except now we’re besties with a baby on the way,” he adds, pressing a hand to my lower belly. I can hear the smile in his voice. “Not that you’d know by looking at you. You’re still tiny, Gabby. I don’t know where that baby is hiding.”

  “Don’t jinx me. Now you’ve voiced that, I’ll bet I blow up like an elephant. You’ll wake up, and I’ll be waddling all over the place.”

  “I wouldn’t care,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You’d still be the most gorgeous pregnant woman ever.”

  “Dylan,” I whisper, circling my arm around his waist.

  “Yeah, Dimples.”

  “I love you.”

  He hugs me fiercely. “I love you too, Gabby. You and Junior. Even when I’m no longer of this world, I will still love you both so much.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Slater

  “Jesus H, man. Where the fuck have you been?” Ryan grabs me into a hug the minute I step foot inside the house.

  “Went to the cabin to clear my head.” It was Paul’s suggestion, and it was a good one. I called Gabby’s dad after I dropped her off that day to explain why I wouldn’t be around for a while. The Jameses are like family to me, and I didn’t want to drop off the face of the earth with no word. While I didn’t divulge Gabby’s secret, I told him we’d had to end things and it would hurt too much to be around her.

  Paul’s such a good man. He didn’t pry. He just told me how sorry he was to hear that, and he offered me the use of his cabin, promising he wouldn’t tell anyone I was there.

  I’ve always loved the solitude of that place, and we spent many happy times in that cabin over the years, so I jumped at the chance and took off immediately.

  “Did it work?” Ryan asks, dragging me out of my mind.

  “A little,” I lie. The solitude was actually the reason I came back. I was going out of my fucking mind imagining Gabby curled up in bed beside Dylan every night. Mentally, I cursed myself for telling her I was letting her go. I thought I was doing the right thing. Making it easy for her to go back to him. To build a family with the guy she always dreamed of building one with.

  But I was a fucking fool not to fight for her.

  “Dude, I’ve been trying to reach you, because there’s shit you don’t know. Stuff you need to hear.” He motions for me to follow him into the kitchen. I drop my bags on the floor in the hall and follow him.

  He pours me a whiskey straight, and I arch a brow. “Far be it from me to turn good whiskey down, but isn’t it a little early?”

  “Not for this conversation it isn’t.”

  I take the drink and pull out a stool.

  “I want to ask you one thing first.” Ryan leans forward on his elbows. “I know about the baby, but what I don’t know is why you walked away so easy.”

  I growl, throwing the whiskey down the back of my throat in one go. “There was nothing easy about walking away from your sister. It was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done, but I did it for her. Because I love her enough to set her free.”

  “Fuck, you’re a better man than me, Evans. I don’t think I couldn’t done the same thing.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I’ve spent the past week berating myself for handing her back to him. My own experiences clouded my judgment, and my head was, is, all over the place.” I rub a hand over my aching chest. “I thought that baby was mine, and I was so fucking happy.”

  “I’m so sorry, dude. I really am.”

  “I know Belle still loves him, and I didn’t want to be responsible for depriving a child of his father, but what I failed to realize, in the heat of the moment, was that Dylan doesn’t have to be with Belle to be that kid’s dad. I was a stupid fucker to let her go without at least discussing it, and I’ll spend the rest of my life paying for my mistake.”

  Ryan stares at me strangely, and I have no clue what’s going through the dude’s head. The stool scrapes as he rises, going to the cupboard and retrieving the bottle of whiskey. He sets it down on the counter between us. “You’re going to need another one of those.”

  I scrutinize his face but he’s still giving nothing away. “What don’t I know?”

  “Shit, man. I hardly know where to start.” He scrubs his hands down his face, looking like he’s aged overnight.

  I try to brace myself for whatever hell he’s about to unleash. I don’t speak for the next few minutes as he fills me in on everything I missed. When he’s finished telling me, I pour both of us another whiskey, and we down them without saying a word. I bury my head in my hands, drawing deep breaths. “Fuck. That’s … shit, I have no words.” I crick my neck from side to side, attempting to loosen the kinks but my shoulders are locked tight, rigid with stress and shock. “How is Belle coping?”

  “She’s putting on a brave face, but I know it’s killing her.”

  “Tell me what I should do.”

  He holds up his palms. “Dude, don’t look to me for that. I can’t tell you what to do, and, honestly, I can’t see that there’s anything you or anyone can do to help make this better.”

  I drag myself through the next two weeks, going about my business as I need to, but there’s a massive void in my life. I fucking miss the shit out of Belle. It’s as if someone has reached into my chest and squeezed my heart so tight it’s barely functioning. My life is empty without her, and I don’t know how I’m ever expected to get over it. I’ve even resorted to sleeping in Belle’s bed some nights, because the sheets still smell like her and I need to feel close to her. After some lengthy internal debate, I sent her a text the day after I returned to UD, telling her how sorry I was to hear about Dylan and offering my support as a friend.

  But she never replied, and I didn’t message her again.

  Ryan confirmed she’s not returning to college, and I should be grateful that I won’t have to see her and Dylan together, but I miss her so Goddamned much I honestly think I’d prefer if they were here even if it would devastate my heart repeatedly to see them parading around campus as a couple again. Even work brings me no measure of joy, because every time I look up, I expect to see Belle flirting with a customer or flashing those baby blues at me.

  I’m sitting in the living room in the dark, nursing a bottle of whiskey, when Myndi returns after her shift at the diner. She spends so many nights here now she should just officially move in. I’m expecting Ryan to broach the subject with Austin and me sooner rather than later. Not that I’d have any objections. Myndi’s cool and low drama, so I’d have zero issue with her becoming a permanent fixture around here.

  I lean my head back against the couch, wishing I could erase this shitty day and start over. I stormed out on my shift earlier tonight after I got into a humdinger of an argument with that bitch Shelby. She was throwing hurtful accusations around about Belle, and I lost my shit with her. Almost hit a girl. Donny could tell I was close to
breaking point, so he told me to get the fuck out of there and I didn’t need to be told twice.

  “Whatcha doing sitting here in the dark?” Myndi asks, propping her hip against the open doorway.

  “Drowning my sorrows in a bottle of Jack,” I reply, waving the bottle at her.

  “Can anyone join this pity party or is it a solo effort?”

  I grin. “You’re welcome to join me, but don’t you want to cuddle up to your man in bed?”

  She kicks off her shoes and drops down into the reclining chair. “Ryan is presently snoring his head off upstairs, and I believe I’ll need at least a couple shots of whiskey to knock me the fuck out. Otherwise, I’m liable to murder him in his sleep.” I can just detect the sweet smile she throws my way in the dark room. “You’re actually doing your best friend a favor by letting me join you.”

  “Well, when you put it like that.” I stand. “I’ll grab you a glass from the kitchen.” When I return a couple minutes later, Myndi is stretched out in the chair with her legs kicked out in front of her.

  “I could marry this chair and live happily ever after just stretched out like this for the rest of my life,” she purrs contentedly.

  “I think your boyfriend might have a word to say about that,” I tease pouring her a decent shot of J.D.

  “I can make room for Ryan, provided he keeps the snoring to a minimum.”

  “Good luck with that plan.” I chink my glass against hers, welcoming the burn as the whiskey glides down my throat. “I can’t remember a time Ryan didn’t snore, even when we were younger, and it was uncommon for kids to snore like that. It’s why I used to sneak into Belle’s room in the middle of the night.”

  Myndi snorts. “Yeah, I’ll bet that was the reason.” She lowers her voice an octave. “Creeper.”

  I bark out a laugh. “I’m sure the way I used to stare at her while she was sleeping could be viewed as creepy, but I never looked at it like that.”

  “You just loved her,” Myndi softly adds.

  “Yeah.” I down the rest of the whiskey and pour another. My hand shakes a little and my vision is unfocused, but I want to get completely shitfaced so I can fall asleep and dream of nothing.

  “I’m sorry you’re hurting. That you’re all hurting.”

  “At least she has him. All I have is this half-empty bottle, a huge helping of regret, and a massive dose of the green-eyed monster.” I gulp back the whiskey like it’s water. “And I know how that makes me sound. I’m a fucking horrible person to be jealous of a guy that’s dying. I mean, Christ.” I put my glass down, dragging my hands through my hair. “I don’t wish that on him, on anyone, and I am genuinely so fucking sorry for the guy, but I also hate his fucking guts because he has everything I’ve ever wanted so, even though he’s dying, he’s still the luckiest fuck on the planet.”

  “That’s a lot of fucks in the one sentence.”

  “The situation warrants it.”

  “Damn straight.” She raises the chair and puts her glass down, sitting more upright. “But here’s the thing, Slate. Gabby isn’t with Dylan, at least not like that.”

  I frown. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s not sleeping with him, Slate. She’s not his girlfriend. She is there as his best friend and the mother of his baby, but that’s as far as their relationship goes, so you can stop torturing yourself over that at least.”

  “Why? Why the hell isn’t she with him?”

  “Only Gabby can answer you that.” She stands, draining the last few drops from her glass. “But, if you want my advice, don’t give up on her. If you love her, just hang tight.”

  I’m walking out of class the following afternoon when Ryan messages me to let me know Belle is coming to the house to collect the rest of her stuff. He warns me Dylan will be with her and that he’ll let me know when they’re gone. Perhaps he’s right. Maybe I should steer clear. But I’m racing across campus to my SUV before I’ve even consciously decided to show up.

  Dylan is coming down the stairs with a paper box in his arms when I burst through the open front door. His eyes lock on mine, and he stops mid-step. He doesn’t look great. Dude looks a little bloated, and you can tell from his eyes that he’s seriously unwell. I clear my throat. “You need a hand?”

  He resumes walking. “Nah. I’ve got this.”

  I shove my hands into my pockets, rocking back on my heels as he descends the stairs.

  To say it’s awkward would be putting it mildly.

  I step aside to let him pass. “Dylan.” He stops in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder at me. “I was really sorry to hear the news.”

  He turns around, putting the box on the ground, and a sneer pulls up the corners of his mouth. “Were you? Or did you throw a party knowing I’ll be dead soon and you can move back in on my territory?!”

  “Dylan!” Belle appears at the top of the stairs, glowing like an angel despite the look of horror on her face. “That was really inappropriate,” she quietly says as she comes down the stairs. “And very unfair.”

  A myriad of emotions treks over his face, and he looks like he’s trapped in some internal dilemma. After a minute, he sighs. “Shit, sorry, man. I take it back.”

  I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I accept his apology. “Thanks, and it’s already forgotten.”

  “This is the last one,” Ryan says, traipsing down the stairs with another box in his arms. He doesn’t look in the slightest bit surprised to see me.

  Belle moves away from the stairs, and she’s standing so close to me I can smell her delicate floral scent, and my heart aches painfully.

  “I’ll wait for you in the car,” Dylan tells her, looking quickly at me. “Take all the time you need.”

  She smiles at him. “Thanks, D.”

  Ryan puts his box down and pulls Belle into a giant hug. “I’m going to miss you so much, but I promise I’ll drop by every Sunday, and if you need anything, at any time, I’m only a phone call away.”

  Belle sniffs, hugging him tight. “Thanks, little big bro. You’re the best.”

  “I love you, Tornado.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Nothing is too much trouble for you.”

  Tears glisten in her eyes when she pulls away. “Damn pregnancy hormones,” she jokes, swiping her damp skin.

  Ryan pats her stomach, and my eyes drift to the growing bump. It’s only been three weeks since I’ve seen her, but she looks noticeably pregnant now. My stomach is tied up in knots.

  “Take care of my niece or nephew,” Ryan says, kissing her on the cheek. He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “I’m heading back to class. Later.”

  I nod, watching as he picks up the box and leaves, closing the door over behind him.

  Belle clears her throat. “Dylan didn’t mean it. He blurts out stuff without being fully aware of what he’s saying. His neurologist suggested we point it out to him when he’s being inappropriate so he can try to become more self-aware.” Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips, and my eyes follow the movement like the greedy, selfish bastard I am. “It’s not as bad as it was,” she says, continuing to defend him. “because he’s on steroids and other meds to help control the side effects.” That explains his bloated appearance. Poor guy.

  “It’s fine. You don’t have to explain. Ryan filled me in.”

  She shuffles awkwardly on her feet, and I can’t think of anything to say, which is ridiculous, because Belle and I have never had any difficulty communicating.

  “How have you been?” she asks in a gentle tone.

  “I’m okay,” I lie. “I’m so sorry, Belle. I couldn’t believe it when Ryan told me.”

  Her face falls. “Yeah, it’s horrible, but I’m trying my best to stay strong for Dylan.” Her hands gravitate to her belly, and she rubs them over her bump.

  “You look really beautiful. Pregnancy suits
you.”

  “Thank you.” Her features soften. “I miss you,” she whispers.

  Fuck. I want to pull her into my arms so badly it’s physically paining me to keep my hands in my pockets. “I miss you too. So much.”

  Tension is thick in the air as we stare at one another. Belle has always been beautiful, but she’s absolutely stunning right now even with the veil of sadness hanging over her.

  “I shouldn’t have pushed you away,” I truthfully admit. “I thought I was doing the right thing but—”

  “Please, don’t, Slate.” Her face contorts, and I can see her pain, and feel it as acutely as mine.

  “Let me help, you, Belle. Even if it’s only as a friend. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone. I know what it’s like to care for someone who is dying, and you need all the support you can get. You were there for me with Mom. Let me do this for you.”

  “I’m not alone, Slate. Everyone is rallying around, and while Dylan is tired and feeling a little sick from the chemo and radiation, he’s actually not too bad, and we go out and do stuff most days.”

  “Are you back together with him?” Man, I’m such a selfish ass. I swore I wasn’t going to ask her that. I look at the ground. “Forget I said that. It’s none of my business.”

  She moves in front of me, gently taking my arm and pulling my hand out of my pocket. She threads her fingers through mine, and that one gesture is everything. “Look at me,” she whispers. I tip my head up, hating to see so much torment on her face. “I’m not sleeping with Dylan. I’m supporting him as his best friend and the mother of his child, and he knows that’s all I can offer him.”

  I hate how my heart skips to a new beat. How hope replaces the blood flowing through my veins. How my soul rejoices at her words. How I hold my breath in expectation of her next sentence.