by Khan, Jen
He is bent over another woman from behind while he yanks her head back in what looks to be a painful angle as he thrusts into her.
“Faster,” the woman hisses.
Tristan moans my name as he pumps faster.
My body jerks once the realization hits me that he just called her Holly. I would rather him punch me in the face. That was my undoing.
“Oh my God!” I wail. “Oh my God!” I clutch my belly even tighter as my back hits the wall.
The woman screeches something unintelligible and jumps out of bed when Tristan rounds it and stumbles toward me. I slide across the wall, trying to get to the door as quickly as I can. He speaks but I can’t understand anything other than my name, which continues to play from his lips. My body is shaking and the tears won’t stop. When I reach the door, I run until I notice that the girl I caught him fucking is now kneeling at the coffee table, still naked with a small straw to her nose, snorting one of the lines of coke.
I feel as though I am possessed. Nothing makes sense as a strong wave of disgust rolls over me. Chances are that, if I look into a mirror at this very moment, I would guess that I have sprouted horns. I walk to the table, lift it from one side, and in a Hulk-type swoop, flip it. Cocaine and the rest of the contents fly in every which direction.
The naked chick comes at me with her arms out, shouting, “Bitch!”
My self-defense training kicks in when I grab her by her stringy hair and punch her in the face. Her hands reach up to cup her nose as blood seeps through her fingers. I feel arms around my waist and my arms start flailing. I know its Tristan. I can smell him mixed with sex. It’s the dirtiest scent. The bile begins its march up my throat.
“Get off of me!” I scream. “Get the fuck off of me!” I can’t have him touching me. It’s wrong. So completely fucking wrong. I don’t want him anywhere near me or my baby.
“Let her go, man,” I hear a male voice demand, but I don’t look.
I can’t process all of this right now. It’s just too much. I am released only to find myself embraced in Emma’s arms. I collapse, clinging to her like she is my last hope. I am inconsolable. Ruined.
Behind me, I hear Braden and Tristan arguing but can’t make out what they are saying. “I have to get out of here,” I cry.
Emma’s hand draws lazy circles on my back. “I know. Come on,” she soothes, lifting me off the floor and throwing her arm around my shoulders in a protective manner.
“Holly? I’m so sorry! Fuck, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know what I was doing. I’ve been so lost lately and I fucked up. Please—“
“No.” The word leaves my mouth without regret. I straighten my back, placing my hands protectively over my belly. “You didn’t just fuck up Tristan,” I respond as I turn to face him. “You tortured me and left me for dead. Killing me would have been more humane than making me live with the memory of seeing you with that woman,” I spit, jabbing a finger towards the dirty tramp, who is still cupping her face, “and hearing you call her my name.”
Emma’s gasp rings through the air.
Tristan starts to move only for Braden to stop him with an arm to the gut, holding him back.
“Don’t, man. You’re my brother, but that won’t stop me from kicking your ass right now.”
Tristan’s eyes are rimmed with red, his hair in disarray. I notice now that, at some point during this whole debacle, he put a pair of running pants on. He stares at me in horror as his eyes travel down to where my hands are protectively placed.
“No. Don’t you dare look at my baby. My baby! You don’t get to look upset or concerned over all of this. Fuck you!”
Emma whimpers, clearly in agony while having a front-row seat to the single most painful moment of my life.
A pain radiates from my stomach and shoots to my lower back, catching me off guard, causing me to grip tighter and bend over to alleviate it. Emma’s arms tighten around me as she guides me to the door. Once the pain subsides, I turn back to see Tristan sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Good. Let him feel even a hint of what I feel right now. It still won’t be enough, but it’s something.
What. The. Fuck? Braden looked around the apartment immediately following the slam of the apartment door. His brother had slipped—again. For years, Tristan was chasing demons and doing it while snorting that shit up his nose. Why hadn’t he seen this coming?
He started righting the chairs that were strewn across the apartment, which Tristan had decided to toss around all while yelling at the female to get her shit and get going, and the table Holly had flipped over like the goddamned Hulk. He had never seen that woman so angry. She was a sweet, quiet, funny, professional woman who always kept herself together. Now, she was pregnant with his dumbass brother’s kid. Holy shit.
Braden’s eyes roamed the living room and landed right on his little brother, who was now curled up in a ball against the wall, crying. The man was unraveling right before him and he had no idea what to do.
This broke Braden’s heart.
He headed to Tristan’s bed, snagged the blanket that was lying haphazardly on top, returned to the living room, and wrapped it around his brother, who recoiled for a second before he visibly relaxed and held on tight to it.
“Tristan, bro. I think we need to get you some help.”
Tristan continued to rock, not responding to the clear-as-day truth. Braden was hell-bent and determined to make sure that his brother sought the help he needed to get through this. Tristan was going to do it with his help. He retrieved his cell from his front pocket, swiped the face, and dialed his beautiful fiancée.
“Hi, honey.” God, her voice sounded like warm silk. Emma calmed him.
“Hi, baby. I’m going to stay here tonight with Tristan and take him straight to the hospital first thing in the morning. Gonna see what I can do about getting him some professional help. Maybe get him a stint in rehab.”
“That’s good,” Emma whispered into his ear. “Braden, I’m worried about him and Holly. I just dropped her off and she looked like a ghost. I can’t believe that she never told me about all of this. Just carried that on her shoulders all of these years. Now that she is able to lean on us for support, she doesn’t utilize it because she doesn’t feel like she deserves it. She is accepting the blame for something she had absolutely no control over. I tried to stay with her, but she refused. Said she needed some time to process.”
“You worried about her health or the baby?”
“No, but I know how important it is to be around the ones who love you in times like these. What was your brother thinking? How could he do that to her? I thought he was coming around. I thought he loved her.”
“Em, I’m sure that, once he gets his shit together, is able to think with a clear head, he’ll be able to right his wrong. In the meantime, he’s no good to Holly like this. You get me?”
“Yeah, honey. I get you.”
Braden smiled. He loved it when she called him honey. That one simple word from her gorgeous lips made everything all better in his world.
“Okay, beautiful. I need to see to Tristan. I’ll call you in the morning. Take care of you and my baby boy, yeah?”
“Baby girl,” Emma corrected him.
They didn’t know the sex of their baby yet. It was too soon. They were getting a sonogram next week. Braden was going to get his boy, though he didn’t really care if he was a she. As long as they were healthy and happy.
“Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“I love you.” This made Braden’s smile deepen.
“I love you too, baby.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Braden pressed end, tossed his phone on the counter, and helped his brother to the bedroom. Then he kicked off his boots, lay on the couch, and didn’t get a single wink of sleep all night.
It’d been two weeks since Tristan had checked into the Hopewell Rehabilitation Center. He hadn’t had a drop of alcohol or drugs since the nigh
t he’d watched as the light in Holly’s eyes died. Looking out the window, he could still see the agony on Holly’s face when she’d seen him fucking another woman. He could still hear the pain in her voice when she’d told him that it was her baby. God. He had really fucked up.
He’d tried to repeatedly tell himself that he didn’t love her after finding out who her father was—the piece of shit that killed his mother. This was one of life’s sick and twisted games. To take the one woman he had ever caught feelings for and turn her into the one thing he wanted more than anything only to throw a curveball and make her the one person who had to be off-limits. Fuck. Him.
The door opened before he could drown himself in thought and there stood an older, extremely attractive brunette woman with a soft ponytail wearing a pair of black slacks and a silk button-up blouse. She eyed him wearily.
Holly’s mother.
“Tristan darling, how are you?” she asked when she stepped through the door and closed it behind her.
“Mrs. Madison,” he muttered.
“Call me Elizabeth.”
Tristan stood and walked to greet her. As he wrapped his arms around her waist, her arms rounded his neck. He pulled back, and her arms went from around his neck to cup his face, her eyes searching his.
“Are you sure you are okay with me being here, dear?” she asked with concern etched on her features.
He nodded his head in response before he released her, pulled up a chair next to his at the window, and held out his hand, offering for her to take a seat. She did.
“Tristan,” she whispered. “I have been wanting to have this conversation with you ever since I found out that your mother—“She stopped and eyed him cautiously.
He nodded at her to go on then peered out the window.
She cleared her throat. “Well, as you know, Holly was in that car with Joshua. He promised me repeatedly that he had not one drop of alcohol.”
Tristan’s gaze met hers as she continued.
“I almost lost my baby girl that night. They were stranded off on the side of the road in the dark. She was bleeding from a wound she had suffered due to the accident. Joshua, being who he is, forced her into a web of lies to tell the police about what had occurred that evening. Since they could not find another vehicle—“She paused, shifting her eyes to her knees.
“Since they could not find another vehicle at the scene, he blamed it on a deer. Said he’d hit a deer and that it must have run off to die.” She shook her head then looked back at Tristan. “A deer,” she breathed. “Honey, I’m so sorry.” Tears pooled in her eyes.
“It’s not your fault, Elizabeth. You can’t blame yourself for what he did to us.”
“Honey, you were left in a car for days with your mother. I cannot begin to fathom what that must have been like for you. Especially at such a young age.”
“It was hell. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t see the life slip from my mother’s eyes or hear her gulp for her last breath.” He shifts his gaze to the window, staring at nothing. “Now, I can add the look on Holly’s face when she came to my apartment finding me obliterated with another woman while she carries my baby.” He inhaled deeply before going on. “That was my fault. I treated her badly. Blamed her for the death of my mother. Did everything I could to drive her away. I put my hands on her, Elizabeth. Motherfucker. I put my fucking hands on her and pushed her out of my office.”
“I’m not happy to hear that you mistreated my baby so harshly, but I do understand that you must have been devastated learning of the news that her father is Joshua Hart.”
Tristan turned to face Elizabeth. “Holly Hart?”
She gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, Holly Hart. Madison is my maiden name. When Joshua went to jail, I divorced him, took back my maiden name, gave it to Holly, packed, and we moved. Left everything behind so that my baby girl could live the life she deserved. She never told anyone about him. Not even Emma. This has been our secret to bear for all of these years. We knew it was going to come out eventually, but I swear to you that there is no way we knew that you and your family were involved. For that, I apologize again.”
Tristan watched her silently then nodded.
Elizabeth reached over and took his hand, and they sat in silence for several minutes before he spoke again.
“Thank you for coming today.”
“You’re welcome, dear.”
“How are Holly and the baby?”
“Holly is doing as well as can be expected. She’s just going through the motions. Work, home, sleep, repeat. She did hear the baby’s heartbeat a couple of days back.”
Tristan could feel his own heart skip a beat before she said the one word that made it soar with pride.
“Strong.”
Strong. His kid’s heartbeat was strong. His kid. He was going to be a father. An old man. A pop. In that very moment, he decided that he was going to kick this shit and work towards being the best dad this kid could ever hope for. It was just that easy. Sure, he was going to struggle on occasion with his addictions, his demons, but he knew right then that he was tough enough to handle it.
“I know that Holly doesn’t want anything to do with me right now, but I am going to win her and our baby back. I am going to do everything in my power to make sure that they have the best life, the best of everything.”
Elizabeth squeezed his hand and smiled. They sat together, carrying on conversation for about an hour before she left, squeezing him tight and wishing him the best of luck with his treatment on her way out.
As he gazed out the window, he smiled. This was the best he had felt in a long time. He was going to be a father, and with any luck, he was going to win Holly’s trust.
In two more weeks, he was going back to Tryon with a new perspective on life.
Yep, he was going to get his girl.
He’d been back two weeks from rehab and Holly still wouldn’t take his calls. He wouldn’t blame her if she never spoke to him again. He deserved that too, but he needed to see her. He needed to make sure that she was okay. That his baby was okay.
As soon as he’d returned from Charlotte, he had gone to Target and one of those baby superstore places and damn near bought up the entire baby section. He had put the entire nursery together in one weekend. He had big plans for those two. Once Tristan had decided that he was going to get Holly and his unborn child back, he’d set the plan in motion. He’d wanted to get the nursery together first so that she knew he was serious about this. He only hoped that she would see his efforts and eventually take him back.
He had unrealistically blamed her for what her father had done to him and his mother. He needed to apologize for how he had treated her. All she’d wanted to do was love him and help him, yet he had been too busy wallowing in self-pity to give a shit.
Total sack of shit.
He’d called and texted. The flowers he’d had sent to her home had been returned and the countless others that had been sent to the office had more than likely ended up in the garbage. Last week, he’d tried going to her apartment only to be turned away by Emma. She’d told him to back off for a while. Those women were inseparable. Even with as pissed off at Em that he had been at the time, he was grateful that Holly had such a strong network of friends, which also included his annoying little sister Olivia.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. He decided it was time to pay her a visit at her office. He made a promise to himself not to humiliate Holly or himself by making a scene. If she turned him away, he would go quietly, but he had to see her.
“Hey, Curtis,” he said, greeting the receptionist, trying not to look or sound like the pathetic sack he had become since this whole shitstorm had unraveled.
Tristan guessed that Curtis could be seen as good-looking with dark hair that was shaved close and always being dressed to the nines, especially for a receptionist. He prided himself on his looks and wore the flashiest jewelry he had ever seen on a man. He also had eyes for Tristan over Holly being
that he was gay.
“Hi, Tristan.”
He could tell by Curtis’s face that he knew what had happened between the two of them. Of course he did. He was close friends with Holly.
“Is Holly in her office?” He could see the flash of pity in Curtis’s eyes. Fuck that. He didn’t want his pity. He wanted his girl.
“She’s in a meeting.”
“Curtis, man. I need to see her. If she told you to keep me away, I’m going to need you to go in there and tell her I have to see her.”
He watched as the man behind the desk squirmed in his seat. Shit. He was really going to turn him away.
“Look, bro. I know that you care for her, but I care about her and our baby too. I need to see her. I have to apologize.” He needed to fix this so that he could show his girl exactly how much he did care about them. He just had to get to her first.
Curtis looked into his eyes, trying to gauge his sincerity. Then he smiled and shook his head. “Okay, she’s not in a meeting. Go on back, but if she asks, you threatened to manhandle me with your big, strong hands. No.” He shakes his head again. “She won’t believe that. She knows how much I want you manhandling me. Just tell her that you forced your way through. She’s more likely to believe that.”
Tristan let out a low laugh, tipped his chin, and made his way back to Holly’s office. He knocked and his heart fluttered when he heard the sweetest voice he had ever had the pleasure of hearing greet him from the other side.
“Curtis, why the hell are you knocking? Come in.”
He opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him. He watched her as she continued typing on her laptop, never once glancing over at him.
“You never knock. What’s up, buttercup?” She finally lifted her eyes and the clicking of her keyboard immediately ceased when she saw him.
“What are you doing here?”
“I need to see you.”
“Why?”
Hesitantly, he took a step toward her. She didn’t move. She just sat there as still as a statue. He stopped when he reached her desk. She had a deer-caught-in-headlights look with a side of anxiety and pain. He had done that to her. He was the cause of all of it.