Chapter Forty
Slater
It’s been almost four months since I last saw Belle, and if I thought it’d get better, I was clearly mistaken. I miss her now as much as I missed her at the start. Maybe more so. By my calculation, she’s about thirty-four weeks pregnant at this stage, and I can’t help wondering what she looks like now and how she’s feeling. Is she nervous or excited now the birth is drawing nearer?
Ryan told me the baby is a boy and that her pregnancy is going well. The Jameses have all rallied around her, as I knew they would. When Mom was dying, they were there for me. Every. Single. Day. Lucy brought a home-cooked meal every evening, and Belle and Ryan took it in turns dropping by at night. Caleb and Dean were there to relieve me of caretaking duties so I could get out of the house once in a while.
There’s no way I would’ve gotten through it without their love and support, and I’m not even their own flesh and blood. So, I know they’re doing everything for Belle, ensuring she’s looking after herself and insisting she takes breaks from the house.
I stopped going to Sunday dinner because Belle and Dylan are there most weeks, and I promised her I would make this easy for her by staying away, so I’ve stuck to my word despite the daily struggle.
I’ve picked up my cell to call her more times than I can count. And I know I’m driving Ryan demented asking about her all the time. But I can’t just switch my emotions off.
I’ve thrown myself into my studies, and as finals approach, I’m feeling confident that I’ll get the grades I need to secure the job of my dreams.
I’ve attended three interviews with Excelsior Engineering in the past couple months, and they extended a provisional offer last week. Everything hinges on my finals, but, provided I keep my cool on that day, it should be in the bag. Most of my classmates would chop off their left nut for this job, so the fact I’m contemplating turning them down seems crazy. But I don’t want to make any decision that might adversely affect Belle. Even though I’m not with her, and there’s no guarantee I ever will be, in the back of my mind, I’m hesitant to go through with it, in case I blow things permanently with her. Which is nuts, because I can’t put my life on hold either.
For now, I’ll follow through with the process, and I don’t have to make a decision until I have my final grade, so there’s plenty of time to think it all through.
As I park outside Dylan’s house, I wonder if she’ll be here. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when Dylan called, asking to meet me. He didn’t give any indication of why he wants to talk, but I don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure this is something to do with the girl we both love.
“Slater, how nice to see you,” Heather says, enclosing me in a hug the second she opens the door. “How are you feeling about your finals?”
“I’ve worked hard, so I’m feeling confident, provided I don’t mess up on the day.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great. Your momma would be so proud.”
“Thanks, Heather.” I clear my throat. “How are you doing?”
Her smile falters a little. “Some days are better than others, you know.”
“Yeah. It’s not easy watching someone you love deteriorate before your eyes. I fucking hate cancer. Excuse my language, but I can’t mention that word without getting mad.”
“I’m with you. It’s hard to believe in a God when things like this happen. First my husband, and now my only son.” Tears pool in her eyes, and I react instinctively, hugging her gently. She sniffles, clinging to me, and I remember how much a hug meant when I was at home caring for Mom when she was dying. “At least I’ll have my little grandson in my arms soon, and it’s about the only thing keeping me going right now.” She eases out of my arms with a sad smile. “Thanks, I needed that.”
“You’re welcome. And if there’s anything else I can do, you only have to ask.”
“I know that, son.” She pats my arm again. “Today hasn’t been a great day. He’s up in his room, and he’s expecting you.”
I swallow my nerves, forcing the words out. “Okay. Is, ah, is Belle here?” Jeez, I’m about as obvious as the nose on my face.
“No, honey. Dylan sent her off for the afternoon because he wanted to speak to you alone.”
I nod, trying to disguise my disappointment. “Sure. Which room is it?”
“It’s the second door on the left when you reach the top of the stairs.”
I take the stairs two at a time, suddenly apprehensive. But I’m here now so I might as well see it through. I knock on the door and an unknown female voice tells me to come in.
I’m completely unprepared for what I see.
Dylan is on a standard-issue hospital bed, propped up on a bunch of pillows, attached to a drip. A woman in scrubs, a nurse, I assume, is helping him take his meds. He looks ghastly. He’s bald, pale, and he’s no longer sporting the bloated look I remember. His skin hangs from his bones. Ryan said he wasn’t doing great the last couple weeks, but this is still a shock. He’s deteriorated much quicker than I expected. For his sake, and Belle’s, I hope he can hold on long enough to see his son born.
“I can wait outside.” I move back toward the door to give him privacy.
“No, stay,” he croaks, his voice sounding dry and raspy. “We’re just done here.”
“Okay, Dylan.” The nurse holds her thumb and forefinger to his wrist before scribbling something on a chart. “You’re good for now. Press the button if you need me.”
“Thanks, Rowena.” He gestures at a chair by his bed. “Sit, Slater.” I plonk my ass in the chair as Rowena closes the door. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me. I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“I’ll admit I’m curious, but I figured this was to do with Belle, and I think the world of that girl so … I’m here.”
“You guessed correctly.” He eyeballs me with a clarity that seems to belie his condition. “Gabby has six weeks until her due date, but I doubt I’ll be in a position to attend the delivery. I want you to take my place.”
He just puts it right out there.
You could hear a pin drop in the room, and I know I’m gawking at him in utter shock. Never in a million years did I think Dylan Woods would ask me that. “I would be there for her in a heartbeat, you know that, but I don’t think that’s your call or mine to make. That should be Belle’s decision.”
“Agreed. But if you and I are on the same wavelength, it’ll make it easier to persuade her.”
“She specifically asked me to stay away, and I’m trying to abide by her wishes.”
“We both know why Gabby asked that of you. She knows being around me might dredge up difficult memories for you, and … she doesn’t want to hurt me by letting me see how much she’s in love with you.”
My mouth drops open, and he chuckles. But his laughter quickly turns into a spluttering, coughing fit. I reach for the button to call the nurse, but he swats my hand away, pointing at the jug of water by his bed. I pour him a glass, adding a straw, and hold it to his mouth while he sips from it. When the coughing has stopped, he pushes it away, and I replace it on the bedside table before reclaiming my seat.
“Thanks. Not being able to do stuff for myself fucking sucks.”
“I remember what it was like for my mom. She hated the loss of independence too.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t more sympathetic back then. I felt threatened by you, and that stopped me from going to the house with Gabby.”
“It’s water under the bridge now, Woods.”
“I always feared it, you know,” he says, looking me square in the face. “I knew you were in love with her too, and I worried I’d mess up and lose her to you. It seems my fears weren’t in vain.”
“From what I’ve been told, that wasn’t your fault.”
He shrugs. “Not that it matters anymore, and I didn’t ask you here to rake o
ver the past.”
“What is it you want from me, Dylan?”
His chest heaves, and his eyes well up. He takes a minute to speak. “I want you to take care of my family after I’m gone.” My mouth dries up. “I know you love Gabby as much as I do, and I trust you to take care of her. To take care of my son.”
“But you hate me,” I blurt.
He smirks. “You were trying to take away the only girl I’ve ever loved. I hated you for that, but I didn’t hate you per se.” He runs his tongue over his dry lips. “Man, I’d kill for a shot of whiskey right now.”
“If I’d known, I could’ve smuggled some in with me.”
He grins. “If Gabby or Mom found out they’d string you up by your balls. They restrict all my fun these days.”
“Only because they love you.”
“I know. But back to business. I know you’re a good guy, Evans. And you know what it’s like to grow up without a father. I don’t want that for my son. I want my son to have a father and a loving family. I want him to have siblings, because we both know how lonely it can be as on only child. We’re lucky, because we both had the Jameses in our lives, but it’s still a solitary existence.”
“I don’t know what to say.” To say I’m shell-shocked is putting it mildly. “And I can’t force myself on Gabby if I’m not who she wants.”
“Stop being a fucking martyr!” he snaps, coughing profusely again. I stand, but he gestures at me to sit back down, so I do. When the coughing fit ends, he continues. “She loves you. You love her. And you’re the only person I trust with my girl and my son. Yes, she might take some convincing when the time comes but I trust you to do the right thing.” His breath wheezes out of his chest, and the strangled sound is hard to listen to. “Of course, if you don’t love her and you don’t want a family with her, that changes things.” He drills a challenging look at me.
“You don’t have to doubt either of those things. I love Belle with my whole heart. She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved. The only woman I ever will. It would be an honor to raise your son and share my life with both of them.”
“Well, that’s settled then.”
I crank out a laugh. “This has got to be one of the weirdest conversations I’ve ever had.”
“You’re telling me.” His expression turns solemn again. “I hate that it’s come to this, but burying my head in the sand won’t change anything. So, I’m doing everything I can now to make sure my family is looked after when I’m gone.”
“If there’s anything else I can help you with, you only have to ask.”
“You mean that sincerely.”
“I do.”
He nods, eyeballing me the entire time. “Just get her through this, Slater. Help her move on.”
“I will do my very best.”
“Thanks, man.”
“You don’t have to thank me. And you don’t need to worry about them. I promise I will take care of them.”
Chapter Forty-One
Gabby
We had one semi-blissful month after our day in the park before Dylan’s condition took a turn for the worst. During that one-month reprieve, we lived life to the fullest. Taking day trips to local places Dylan had always wanted to visit. Visiting the arcade and playing pool and video games. Meeting up with friends at the bowling alley. Vising the waterfall and walking some of the smaller trails at the state park. Catching some of the latest movies and going for pizza at Dylan’s favorite pizza place afterward. We even took a painting class together for a few weeks, giving up when we realized we were both talentless with a paintbrush and wasting our time.
Our nights were filled playing board games, reminiscing over old photos, recalling old vacations, and regaling one another with funny stories we remember from our shared childhood. When I explained I had started playing guitar again, Dylan insisted I play for him every night. I thought playing all our old songs and revisiting all our old memories would kill me inside, but it’s actually been strangely comforting.
“We need to talk.” Dylan pins me with a lethal look as he holds my cell out to me, a new message open on the screen, and I immediately know what he wants to discuss. Damn it. I shouldn’t have left it on the coffee table for him to see.
“It’s not a big deal. I’ll just block that number like I did the last three she sent me texts from.”
“The hell it isn’t,” Dylan spits. “She’s been messaging me too, and this has got to stop.”
“I’m guessing Banging Bianca isn’t sending you threatening messages though.”
He sighs, smoothing a hand over his bald head. “I thought I dealt with her in the hospital, but she’s persistent. And now this.” He points at my cell. “That’s completely unacceptable, and I’m putting an end to it right now.”
Dylan’s way of dealing with his crazy psycho bitch of an ex is to ask her to come to the house to meet him. Go figure.
She arrives on time the following afternoon, looking shell-shocked to see me sitting beside Dylan when Heather shows her into the living room. “What’s she doing here?” she huffs, planting her hands on her hips.
“Gabby lives here, and I asked her to sit in on this conversation.”
She glares at me, but I keep a neutral expression schooled on my face. When her eyes drop to my obviously pregnant belly, her mouth hangs open, and she’s momentarily silenced. It doesn’t last long, however.
“I’m not talking with her here,” she pouts, as if she has any say in this.
“Unless you want me to call the cops and tell them you’ve been harassing both of us, you will sit your ass down. Right now.” Thank God, Dylan’s having one of his better days today, because he needs to be firing on all cylinders to deal with this cow. His tone brokers no argument, and after another bit of posturing, she finally sits down on the couch across from us. “I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen, and then you will get the fuck out of my house, when I tell you to go.”
Her nostrils flare and a muscle ticks in her jaw. She knots her hands in her lap and glares at Dylan now.
“I tried to be nice about this in the hospital, but you seem to have a big issue with listening to what people tell you, so you leave me no choice but to spell it out.” Dylan clasps my hand. A scowl appears on Bianca’s face. “I spent the whole of freshman year ignoring your advances for a reason.” My eyes pop wide as I stare at Dylan when he makes that admission. That’s news to me; although, having seen how Bianca operates, I can’t say I’m overly surprised at her actions. I’m just shocked that Dylan never mentioned anything to me.
“I had no interest in you. Zero. Zilch. You only managed to get your way this time because I was too fucking sick to know I was being manipulated. If I was of sound mind, I would never have touched you. Gabby is the only woman I’ve ever loved and desired, and that hasn’t changed. What we had meant nothing to me. Nothing.”
Bianca sucks in her cheeks as if she’s swallowed something sour.
“You preyed on me when I was most vulnerable, and you lied and twisted things to hurt Gabby as much as you could, and I will never forgive you for that.” He pauses for a moment, considering his next words carefully. “I know I didn’t always treat you right, and even though it was a part of my illness, and I have little time for how you treated Gabby, I am sorry for anything I said or did that caused offense.”
She snorts, and it’s not a good look on her.
“But this shit has got to stop.” He points at my cell. “And this is the only time I will give you a heads-up. Stop texting me and stop texting Gabby.” He places his hands on my swollen stomach. “Gabby is pregnant with my baby, and she’s under enough stress as it is.”
“And you expect me to care about this … why?”
“Wow. You really are a cold-hearted bitch.” I sit on my hands to avoid the urge to lunge at her.
“I’ll re
port you for harassment and obtain a restraining order if you continue,” Dylan supplies. “I’m sure you don’t want that on your record.”
She sits up straighter, thrusting her shoulders and her chest out. “Write me a check and I’ll go away.” She drills him with a smug look. “You can erase me from your life in two minutes. You’ll never have to hear from me again.”
“How much?” Dylan asks the same time I say. “No fucking way.”
“What?” I stare at Dylan like he’s insane. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He leans in to my ear. “Please trust me on this. I know how to handle her.”
I grind my teeth to the molars, shooting daggers at the superior look on that bitches face.
“Fifty K will cover it.”
I bite down so hard on the inside of my mouth I taste blood.
“Five,” Dylan pushes back, and they end up settling on fifteen. It infuriates me that he has to pay her off but I bite my tongue and let him handle this, even if it’s killing me to stay quiet.
Dylan writes the check and gives it to the gloating cow. “You won’t be able to cash that until you sign the paperwork my attorney sends you,” he tells her. “So, don’t do anything stupid in the meantime.”
“I’ve got what I wanted, and I won’t jeopardize it.” She gives the check a big kiss, and I want to wipe that victorious look off her face so bad. “See you around, Dylan.” She rakes her gaze over him quickly. “Or not,” she adds, without a shred of remorse, and I lose hold of my emotions.
Climbing to my feet, I growl as I lunge at her, but Dylan gets to me first. He has to physically hold me back as I thrash about, dying to wring her damn neck. I have never hated anyone as much as I hate this girl. This was all a game to her. Some warped kind of “get rich quick” scheme, and I’m enraged at her flippant disregard of Dylan and what he is enduring. “Get the fuck out, you gold-digging slut!” I shout as Heather appears in the doorway.
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