Tara chooses that exact moment to reenter the bar carrying a thick tub full of ice and beer bottles, effectively covering her middle. I let go of the guy and pull out the teddy bear from my cargo pocket. She doesn’t see me, and I lose sight of her for a moment when she bends to set the tub down. When she stands back up, the sight of her takes my breath away. Stumbling back, I feel the stuffed animal fall from my fingertips as my eyes continuously blink. It’s as if they’re playing tricks on me and I’m not really seeing what I’m seeing. Or well, not seeing.
I feel a hand on my shoulder, and then Kaylie is pressing up against me, her cheek on my back. “I’m so sorry, Kale. I didn’t know how to tell you,” she whispers, her voice cracking.
My head falls and I bring a hand up to meet hers, squeezing tight. I don’t blame her. I probably never would’ve believed it without seeing anyway, but now that I’m here, I can’t deny it. Standing less than twenty feet away from me is Tara Jennings, my childhood best friend, first love, fiancée, and mother of my future child. Only this Tara, the one who should be nearly seven months pregnant, is standing in tight denim shorts with a form-fitting black tank top that rides up on her belly—her unbelievably flat-as-a-board belly. Gone is the baby bump I’d caressed before I left. Gone is any evidence that a baby, my baby, was there not just three months ago.
And now it all makes sense. The letters that became less frequent the longer I was gone. The unanswered calls when I was able to get a phone pass. The airport reunion that never was. She lost the baby and was here to deal with it all on her own. In four long strides, I’m in front of her, and I pull her into my arms and wrap her in a warm embrace. My heart’s breaking for the loss, but it’s equally tearing me apart that she had to deal with the fallout on her own.
Before I can even begin to really feel her, she’s pushing against my chest, out of my arms. Her eyes widen when she looks up at me, and there’s something there. Shame? Regret? I don’t know what it is, but nothing about the look on her face is one that I’d expect from my fiancée when I return home after being away for so long.
Reaching down, I stroke her face, cherishing the feel of her skin under my fingertips. “Why didn’t come to the airport, babe? I’ve missed you,” I admit, leaning in for a kiss, but she turns her face at the last second, forcing me to kiss her cheek instead of her lips.
What the fuck is going on?
A million things start racing through my mind, and I don’t get it. This Tara is distant, unfeeling, nothing like the woman I love, and my heart starts beating rapidly as I look back at my sister, who is watching us with sorrowful eyes.
“Kale, I can’t do this here. We need to talk, but not right now.” She holds her wrist up to glance at her watch, and my eyes widen when I notice her fingers and realize that the asshole was right. My ring is no longer on her finger. “I get off at nine. Can we meet then? At the old swing set?”
Anger courses through me, and there’s no way in hell I’m waiting hours to find out what the hell she’s been up to since I’ve been gone. Taking her hand, I don’t give her a choice as I pull her outside and into the alley next to the building.
Pressing her against the brick wall, I place both hands on the sides of her head. I look down at her, but she won’t meet my eyes. “Show me your left hand, Tara,” I order, growling, and I watch as she flinches, but in the end, she does what I ask. “Where the fuck is my ring?”
Sighing, she finally meets my eyes, her own flashing with something that resembles anger. “I stopped wearing it a while ago,” she states matter-of-factly, like it’s something I should’ve already known.
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my anger at bay. “And why in the hell did you stop wearing it? I don’t understand.”
She pushes me away from her and starts pacing the alley. “Because I didn’t want to get married! Okay?! Is that what you want to hear?! Because that’s the God’s honest truth. After you left, I did a lot of soul searching, and I’m not ready, Kale. We’re not ready! I’m nineteen years old and way too young to be a wife. Way too young to be a mother.” The last part comes out in a whisper, and I begin to feel wary.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask, even though I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know the implications.
She stops in her tracks and looks at me, this time with hardened eyes. “It means I terminated the pregnancy.”
Her cold words cause my knees to buckle and I have to brace myself against the wall to keep from falling to the ground. The pain of thinking she had a miscarriage was nearly unbearable, but now knowing that I’m no longer going to be a dad because Tara decided she didn’t want the baby is an excruciating torment I have no idea how to combat or to even begin to process. My lungs feel heavier with each breath I take, and when I see her coming towards me, I back up and hold a hand out, wanting her to stay away, as far away as possible.
“Kale, I know it’s a shock, and I probably shouldn’t have done it without telling you, but you were out of contact. There was nothing else I could do. But come on. We’re not even twenty. We weren’t ready, and in the end, you’ll see this was for the best. I promise. Now we can just go back to being us, not engaged, not about to be parents. Just Kale and Tara. Like we always have been.”
I look at her in disbelief. “I was out of contact because I was preparing to provide for our family. I signed my fucking life away for you, for the baby. I loved you. I already loved him. I don’t… How the fuck could you do this to me?”
She tries to wrap her arms around me, but I push her off, feeling disgusted by her touch. “It’s better this way. You’ll see. We’ll be better this way.”
Shaking my head, I let out an incredulous laugh. “That’s where you’re wrong, Tara. As far as I’m concerned, there is no more us. And the fact that you can’t see that you just ripped my heart to fucking shreds? There probably never should’ve been.”
She rushes towards me, only stopping when I hold my hand out. “Kale, don’t say that. We can get past this. I do still care about you.”
My eyes close as I let out a deep breath. I let her words wash over me, and my blood begins to boil. I want to scream at her. I want to cry my fucking eyes out. I want to go back three months and never set foot on the damn plane so I could’ve been there to try and at least talk this out with her. But I can’t. I can’t go back, and this can’t be undone. Every single ounce of love I once felt for this girl slowly drains from my heart, and as she stands in front of me, waiting for me to tell her everything is okay, I just can’t do it. I feel nothing but anger, resentment, and honestly, hatred.
I close the distance between us, placing a hand on the back of her neck. She looks up at me with hopeful eyes, and I can’t believe she thinks we—I—can get past this.
“I might’ve believed that before, Tara, but I sure as hell don’t now. I loved you more than life itself, and walking away is going to be so goddamn hard, but if I stay here, I’m just going to feel sick to my stomach every time I look at you. It’ll always be a reminder of what you stole from me, what I can never get back. I’ll just end up hating you more than I do right now, and the magnitude of that is one I don’t think I can take. Truth be told, when I walk out of this alley, I could never see you again and I’d die the happiest man on the planet.”
Without another word, I turn and walk out of the alley to find Kaylie waiting for me. She slides an arm around my waist and helps me to the car. When she gets in, she starts the engine then turns to me. She places the small stuffed animal in my hands. The feel of the plush material is my undoing, and the tears begin to fall.
Leaning over, she squeezes my shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d want to leave this behind. He may be gone, Kale, but it was out of your hands. Just remember he was always wanted. And maybe we never did get to meet him, but I have faith that he’s somewhere up there in the universe and he knows that. He would’ve been lucky to have had you as a father.”
She keeps talking as she makes the driv
e to Mom’s house, but I tune her out, unable to hear her reassurances. She’s right. I wanted that kid more than anything. Sure, I was scared as hell when Tara told me she was pregnant. I was a nineteen-year-old college student who worked in a restaurant. But once the initial shock wore off and Tara said yes to my proposal, the idea of starting a family became an exciting one. I enlisted so I could be a provider and be the father I never had. Every single night, when I crawled onto my cot, exhausted, sore as hell, and mentally drained, I envision Tara and my future kid, knowing that every single second spent there was worth it just for them. I never, not in a million years, thought that when I took that oath I’d end up losing the only things I ever wanted.
I’m still reeling from it all as I curl up against the window, the teddy bear acting as my only lifeline, my only link to the child I’ll never meet. In that short car ride, I let all the pain out and decide then and there that I’m far too broken from this to ever let anyone in again. The loss is one that will haunt me. I don’t think I can ever risk going through this again, and I never plan to.
Present, December 2013
LETTING OUT a deep breath, I sit up slowly and grab the bottle even though I know in the back of my mind that I need to slow it down. I’m going to be a walking dead man tomorrow, but it’s been so long since I let myself remember that day, and now that I have, all I want to do is forget.
Clumsily, I gather everything up and start to set it all back in the box with as much care as I can muster in my drunken state. I don’t ever plan on going through this again. Even with my alcohol-muddled mind, I think back on Xavier’s words and know I need to let it go. And maybe this is what I needed—a drunken breakdown to remember what I lost. But at the same time, it gives me even more reason to cherish what I have now.
Slowly, I finger each item, knowing that this is the last time I’ll ever lay eyes on them. With all the clarity I can muster, which isn’t much thanks to the bourbon, I say goodbye with each piece that I pack away. I almost miss the sonogram on the floor, but at the last second, it catches my eye and I pick it up, eyeing it warily. Even though this is what set me off, I feel a little calmer than before, and I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the fact that I let myself relive that day, or the knowledge that this wasn’t it for me. For once, I can look at this sonogram and not feel like my one chance at true happiness has been washed down the drain. Placing it on top the blanket, I give it a drunken pat before I sigh as I close the box. My fingers rub the top, and I close my eyes, whispering a silent goodbye.
Sitting back against the couch, I clutch the bourbon as I stare at the box. Ever since I found out Lucy was pregnant, I’ve been the strong one. As scary as it seemed, I was thrilled. Sure, I panicked when she said she had to weigh her options, but ever since she let me in, I’ve been ecstatic, and it feels different than it did with Tara. The more I think about it, the more pissed off I get that I’m even making the comparisons.
Rising from the couch, I nearly fall over and have to brace myself on the coffee table. Less than graciously, I pick up the box and meander back to my bedroom, ready to put it away for good. Once it’s secure in my closet, I lean back against the door, a sigh of relief leaving my lips. Part of me knows that I needed to relive that, to see those things, but the other part of me wants to scream at the world, call Tara every name in the fucking book, and just get wasted beyond belief. Apparently the third idea sounds like the best, so I head to the kitchen, take out a large rocks glass, and pour the bourbon in it until it reaches the brim. I decide that’s not quite enough, so once again, I bring the bottle to my lips and tilt my head back, the liquid pouring down until I’m practically coughing due to the sting of the bite.
With a grimace, I pound my chest, willing the burn to go away. I place the bottle in the freezer then pick up the rocks glass. Just as I’m about to leave the room, my eyes spot Lucy’s note and the sonogram, both of which I swoop up in one blundering hand, nearly knocking them onto the ground before I can get a grip.
I head down the hall towards my room, walking as slowly as humanly possible so I don’t spill any of my drink, but it’s no use as my shoulder hits the wall and the amber liquid sloshes over onto my skin. Swearing under my breath, I finally make it to my room, and even though it feels like ages, I find myself next to my bed, where I set the glass down on my nightstand. I reverently place the note and the image on my pillow as I quickly undress until I’m in nothing but my boxer briefs. It’s a sweet relief, and I flop onto the bed.
It’s only at this point that I realize that my head’s swimming, and I lift it up and grab the glass, downing half its contents as if it’s some potion that will help me think more clearly when really it’s just going to do the opposite. When I lie back on my pillow, I feel the crinkling under my head. I shoot up and turn around, ready to combat whatever I just laid on. I laugh at my drunk self when I see that it’s just what I put there, and I swipe both papers up in my hand and settle back into bed, turning on my side.
As I’m lying there, I reread Lucy’s note through squinted eyes, and I wish she were here in bed with me. After tonight, I need her close to me. I need her wrapped around me. I need…her. I just need her. Setting the letter aside, I try to look at the other document, but my mind can’t process it. I hold it first in front of my face, then farther out, and then I bring it back in again. Finally, I blink a few times and it comes into focus. A huge, goofy-ass grin crosses my face, and I almost want to laugh, knowing I was in fucking tears just minutes ago. But this? This is exactly what I need.
I’m looking at my first picture of Sprout, and my heart couldn’t be fuller right now. It’s as if one look at him is already healing me, and I find myself wishing he were here with me right now. He and Lucy both. I never thought it possible, but I want them more than anything I’ve ever wanted in the world, and I will do everything in my power to keep them happy.
My eyelids start feeling heavy, and even though I’m not ready for sleep, I know I’m about to succumb. With one last look, I smile at my unborn child.
“I love you, Sprout,” I slur, and I know I’m grinning like a fool in the dark. “And don’t tell anyone this, but I think I love your momma, too.”
The admission surprises even me, and as I start to drift off, I realize those words are true. After everything I’ve been through and all the pain I’ve endured, maybe with Lucy I can finally start to heal.
AFTER A fun girls’ night out, I find that I’m missing Kale. We haven’t spent a single night apart since we became official, and I’ve decided I don’t want to break the streak. Fortunately, with all of Kale’s pressure for me to move in, he gave me a key to use whenever I please—his words, not mine. It’s only a little after one a.m. and I expect to see Kale lounging on the couch watching Late Night, but when I open the door, the whole house is dark. I assume he’s just not home yet, and I grin to myself, knowing I can work this to my advantage. As I move through his house, I slowly discard pieces of clothing, leaving a trail behind me. I’m left in nothing but my panties, feeling brazen as I go to his room, ready to wait in his bed until he comes home.
When I walk in his room, I hear a soft snore. My heart falls at the revelation that he’s already home and asleep. Shrugging it off, I pull back the covers and climb in to bed with him, taking a moment to look him over. He looks gorgeous, peaceful, and as much as I want to wake him, I think against it.
My eyes catch something on the sheets lying next to his head and I lean closer to get a good look, not caring that my bare breasts are pressed up against his back. I can’t help but smile when I see that it’s the sonogram I left for him, and I melt at the realization that he brought it to bed with him. He acted kind of weird at the doctor’s office earlier and we didn’t get a chance to talk about it before we parted ways for the evening. I’m so glad I was able to sneak back in and leave the surprise for him.
I’m about to move the photograph when Kale turns, effectively catching me in his arms. He snuggles in close, pres
sing my chest up against his. The feel of his warm skin against mine is heavenly, and if it weren’t for the fact that he’s dead asleep, I’d be making a play. Instead, I wrap my arm around him, just wanting to be next to him. He sighs, and my nose wrinkles at the smell. It’s as if he’s bathed in a bourbon factory, and before I can question it, he begins to murmur.
“Mmmm I’ve been waitin’ on you for a long time,” he mutters, nuzzling against my neck. His ticklish breath causes me to giggle, and I squirm, knowing he has no idea what he’s saying.
“I was only gone for a few hours. Plus, you apparently had your own fun tonight, babe.”
He huffs, and I study his face, but he doesn’t open his eyes. “No fun, Lucy. No fun without you. It was first the best night, then the worst. Then I saw Sprout and it was the best again. And now you’re here and it’s even better than the best. It’s the best times infinity.” I try not to giggle as he struggles to make out the word infinity through his slurring.
Oh, Kale. I have no idea what happened tonight, but my normally calm, cool, collected boyfriend is wasted beyond belief. I can’t help but wonder what set him off.
Running my fingers over his face, I whisper gently. “All my time with you is the best times infinity, Kale Montgomery.”
Even in his drunken haze, a pained expression crosses his face. I notice that his eyes slightly open, and he squints, looking at me. “I love when you say Montgomery. It sounds so sexy rolling off your lips. But if Sprout’s going to be a Montgomery, you’ve gotta stop saying it that way. Unless you’re talking about me.” He pauses, a frown forming on his face. “Sprout will be a Montgomery, right?” he asks in a panicked tone.
I can feel my eyes narrow even in the darkness, and I press myself into him, wanting to get as close as possible. “Of course, baby. As far as I’m concerned, he’s already a Montgomery.”
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