The Baby Mistake

by J. L. Beck

  Alice Jane and Clark Alan Winston

  Her born and death dates are so close together. Mom was only thirty-seven when she died, while Dad was in his fifties. Even though it’s been twelve years since her death, the pain is just as fresh now as it was the day we watched her take her last breath.

  Cancer sucks, but it’s unbearable when it takes the life of the person you love most. Watching my mom become a shell of the person she was, I can’t even describe how hard it was. Our mom was always smiling, always laughing, always doing something…until she couldn’t. Tears prick my eyes, as I realize this is the very first time I’ve ever visited her grave. The heartache of losing her was just too much to bear.

  I run my hands against the cold marble, tracing over the letters. I have so many memories of watching her dance around the kitchen while she cooked, then watching my dad take her in his arms and dance around with her, both of them wearing huge smiles on their faces as they did. They were so in love, so happy, so alive.

  Then to watch him lose himself after we lost her. He was never the same. I rarely saw him smile after she died, and it was almost like he was pulling away from us to protect himself. Then he got sick, too, and orchestrated the whole thing with Reed and Fallon.

  It makes my chest hurt, thinking about how he made sure Reed would be happy when he was gone, but Remy and I got nothing like that from him. I clench my hand into a fist. I guess I should just be glad he told us all he loved us before he passed.

  Thinking about it, I get pissed off all over again. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I glare down at the headstone and his name, needing to get all my anger, all my pain, off my chest once and for all. I couldn’t yell at a sick and dying man, but I can damn sure yell now.

  “Why didn’t you make sure Remy and I had someone the way you made sure Reed did? Didn’t you think we would need someone to hold when you were gone? What makes Reed so fucking special? He’s an idiot, and one who didn’t see what was right in front of him until he was forced to. Remy, he’s the best of the three of us, and you left him alone. He’s the youngest, the one who remembers Mom the least but looks the most like her, and you just deserted him because it hurt too much.” I kick at the ground, wanting to punch something so badly it hurts.

  I should feel like an idiot for standing here in this empty cemetery yelling at a pile of stone, but it helps. It helps so fucking much.

  “I’m so angry,” my voice breaks on the word, and I realize I have tears running down my face, though I don’t bother to wipe them away. “I’m angry at you for leaving us for so long before you died. I’m pissed that you didn’t even try to make things right with us all. Do you know what it’s like to love your brother, yet hate him too for having everything you want?” Asking a dead man anything is pointless, but I do it anyway. “Reed gets a family. What do I have? A bunch of questions I’ll never get answers to and a pile of cash. Gee, thanks, Dad.”

  The next words out of my mouth are ones I’ve never spoken to anyone. “You left me one-third of the company…and I don’t even want it. I never did, not that you would have asked. You probably wouldn’t have cared either. Reed was always the one who wanted to run it. I was only there because it was expected of me, and I hoped being there would make us closer. Now, you’re gone, so what am I supposed to do? Quit? I don’t even know what I’d do if I did. I have a finance degree because that’s what you expected. I hate fucking numbers.” I bite my fist, letting my words sink deep into my mind. These are my feelings, my emotions. The things I’ve kept bottled up for so long.

  I can’t hold back a laugh, and I think I might be going a little crazy. My words grow softer, my anger draining away for the first time since he died. “I wish you were here, Dad. I need advice, and if I ask Reed, he’ll just laugh and act like he didn’t fuck up more than once with Fallon, and asking Remy is pointless because he’s more clueless when it comes to women than I am.” I feel defeated and at peace all at once.

  Not caring about my suit or how sitting in the grass will ruin it, I sink down onto my knees and run my hand over the marble. “There’s this woman, and I screw everything up with her every time I open my mouth. How do I make it right? How do I make her see me as more than the asshole who tried to stick his hand up her skirt five minutes after he met her?” I sit there like I’m waiting for him to answer, and of course he won’t. He’s gone. Buried deep in the earth.

  After a few minutes, I stand back up and pat the stone. “Bye, I love you.” The words are barely a whisper of sound, but I still say them. As angry as I am with him, I can’t deny the love I have for him. He’s my dad.

  When I get back in my car, I head for Ava’s, still determined to find out what’s going on with her. I thought saying all those things would make me feel better, but even though I’m not as angry, I don’t really feel better—just empty. Being around Ava makes me feel, and I need that warmth right now. I need that rushing of blood through my veins and the fizzle of excitement deep in my belly. Those are all things that only she can give me.

  I’m sitting at a stoplight a few minutes from her house when I see her come out of a corner store, holding a brown paper bag tightly in her hand. She ducks her head and walks at a fast pace down the street. For a second, I consider getting her attention, but she’d probably run faster if I did. I contemplate my next move, determined to figure out this woman if it’s the last thing that I do. Making up my mind, I slowly drive toward her apartment, and when I pull into a parking spot, I kill the engine, deciding to give her a little time to get inside and get settled in before going up to her door.

  When I exit the car, I tell myself I won’t be leaving her place until I get some answers. Ava’s been a mystery to me, but that stops tonight.

  As I rush up the stairs and into my apartment, the strange feeling of being watched washes over me in waves, but I tell myself it’s nothing more than me being paranoid. I’m anxious and afraid of the results the pregnancy test will bring.

  No one’s actually watching me or following me, right? There’s no one in sight when I enter the front door, and the apartment is so quiet a pin could drop and be heard. I hurry to the bathroom, placing my purse and cell phone on the table before taking the entire brown paper bag with me.

  I slam the door closed behind me and place the bag on the floor, rifling around inside it for the test. When I grasp the box, I pull it out and rip the thing open, refusing to wait another second. If I am, I’ll tell him, and if I’m not, then…then it must all be stress. It has to be.

  I read the instructions and take the test, placing it on the counter. I wash my hands and stare at the thing intently, as if it’s a spider that’s going to attack me at any given second. The seconds tick by, eating away at my resolve. I just want to know. I need to know.

  A pounding noise resonates through the apartment and I blink, trying to figure out if I imagined the entire thing or if someone is actually beating down my door. When the knocking continues, I leave the bathroom and rush to the front door, pulling it open. I don’t think about who it could be. I just open the door. I can’t stifle the gasp that escapes my lips when I realize just who it is standing on the other side.

  Ryker Winston. His eyes are gleaming, and there’s something almost dangerous about the way he’s looking at me. It stirs my blood and makes the anxious anxiety I’m feeling worse. How did he find me? Or get my address? Confusion mares my features, I’m sure. I take a step back, all but offering for him to come in. The movement is unintentional but one he takes as an invite.

  Fear rushes to the forefront of my mind. What if he sees the test? I force myself to calm down, because even if he saw it, he could think it’s someone else’s baby. He doesn’t remember we slept together.

  “Jesus, I’m sorry for barging in like this, but I had to see you. After the way you were acting at work today, the entire past week really, I had to make sure you were okay.”

  I blink, unsure if I should tell him just how not okay I am.

  “I
’m…” I start closing the door behind us and guide him over to our small kitchen table.

  “Look, you don’t have to lie to me. I know you aren’t okay. I saw you leaving the drug store down the street.” His confession causes my eyes to go wide, and he rushes to explain. I’m sure he thinks he knows what I’m thinking, but he doesn’t. I’m just surprised he saw me and I didn’t notice him.

  “No, I wasn’t stalking you. I was just in the area, and I saw you. I can’t really explain it…” He blows out a frustrated breath, and I can smell the mintiness of it. “I feel this deep, compelling need to protect you, to make sure you’re all right. I can’t explain it or put it into words because I don’t even understand it.”

  I can tell he’s working through something, and even though I want to be mad that he showed up here uninvited, I can’t be. Not when I know deep down his intentions are nothing but sincere.

  “Hey.” I find myself reaching out to him, my hand resting against the back of his. His hands are huge compared to mine, and his touch sends shivers down my spine when he flips his hand to grasp my fingers. It’s a simple gesture, but one that doesn’t go unnoticed.

  We may have already had sex, but knowing that he can be so kindhearted shows another dimension to him.

  “I’ve just had the flu. It’s a tough bug to get rid of, and it’s making me feel like shit every single second it gets.” I smile, lying straight through my teeth. I do so, not because I want to, but because I need all the facts first. I can’t tell Ryker who I am without knowing the results of the test.

  Ryker nods, his eyes gazing into mine. I feel as if I’m in a trance every time those stormy-blue orbs meet mine.

  “It’s been going on for at least two weeks now. Are you sure you shouldn’t see a doctor? I hate seeing you running to the bathroom to vomit all the time. It makes me worry. I wonder if you’re eating and drinking enough…” He trails off, and I bite my lip to hide the smile that wants to reveal itself. Fuck, this man is the sweetest ever, worrying over someone like me. Someone he doesn’t really know.

  “I’ll be okay, and if it helps ease your mind, I’ll go see a doctor if I’m not better in a few days.” He smiles, revealing his perfectly straight white teeth. Jesus, isn’t the man gorgeous enough without perfect teeth? Then a thought occurs to me. “Why were you in this area? You don’t live around here, do you?”

  Ryker looks down, a red flush heating his cheeks, and I can only stare at him. Is he embarrassed? “Actually, I wasn’t in the neighborhood. I came here earlier, and you weren’t here, so I went down to the cemetery where my parents are buried.” His words make my heart beat faster.

  “Is everything okay?” This time it’s me concerned for his well-being.

  He nods, his gaze piercing mine as he speaks, “Yeah, everything is fine. As fine as it’s going to get. You see, I lost my dad a short time ago and it’s really hit me hard. Harder than it should have. I was prepared, so were Reed and Remy, but I don’t think you can ever be fully prepared for someone you love to die.”

  I can feel tears sting my eyes, and all the emotions I’ve buried seem to rise to the surface. This is Ryker baring his soul to me, giving me a little piece of himself to hold onto.

  “You don’t have to explain. I understand.” And I do. I know heartache, pain, loss, disappointment in the one person you expected to be there for you.

  Ryker shakes his head, shoving a handful of his dark, disheveled hair away from his face. “But I want to explain, because the reason I was a dick, the reason I’m still a dick, is because of that loss. That pain is so fresh, and I’ve never been good at showing my emotions or dealing with pain. I just bottle it up then unleash it on anyone that’s close by.”

  His honesty makes me weak in the knees, and I understand why he was such a jerk the first day I met him, and then when he cornered me in his office. While it isn’t an excuse, at least it’s a somewhat viable reason.

  “Don’t discredit yourself. You’re a good person. We all go through loss, disappointment, and pain in life. I know I have, and I know someday I’ll endure it again. It’s inevitable and something you can’t hide from.” I want to wrap the man in front of me in my arms and tell him all the secrets swirling around inside my head, but I can’t.

  “I know. It’s just, I never meant to hurt you with my words, or make you afraid of me. I never wanted to be that man. I’m carefree and happy. Hell, I’m outgoing and over-the-top most days, but losing my dad…it’s made me feel like part of me has died too.”

  “I get it. Growing up wasn’t easy for me…” I start, surprised that the words start to flow. “My mom was a single parent, the other woman in the relationship, and she thought my father loved her. She was weak and it broke her. I was weak, too, because even though I refused to admit it, I wanted my father to be there. I wanted us to have the happily ever after, for him to wipe my mom’s tears away and tell her everything was going to be okay.” The memories swirl inside me. All the nights she spent up crying, the pleading phone calls begging him to stay or come back.

  I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to suffer like my mother did.

  Blinking away the memories, I relish in the warmth of Ryker’s hand in mine.

  “I’m sorry, Ava. So fucking sorry.” He’s so sincere, and it just makes me like him more. He doesn’t have to apologize for the shitty way my dad treated me and my mom.

  I shake my head. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I just want you to know that I can relate to feeling pain and disappointment. It’s literally been the only true thing I’ve felt in my life.” I don’t mention the things he made me feel the night that I gave myself to him. The way he opened me up and shattered that pain, exposing something deeper, so much deeper, an emotion I’ve never felt before.

  “I don’t pity you, Ava. I admire your courage, and the fact that you stand up to me, even if I’m an asshole. You’re special, and I really hope you see that.”

  Air rushes into my lungs and my heart hammers against my rib cage. Can he sense the way he makes me feel? I open my mouth to respond but no words come out. Instead, a giant yawn escapes me, and I cover it with my hand.

  Ryker’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he laughs. “Someone’s tired, huh?”

  “I guess. That came out of nowhere.” It’s the truth. Exhaustion has hit me hard the last couple of nights, all because of the anxiousness I’m feeling. I swear, anxiety sucks the life right out of you.

  “Okay. I suppose I’ll get going then and see you in the office tomorrow?” he questions, getting up from the table.

  I guide him toward the door, fully aware that the answer to our future lies just down the hall on the bathroom counter.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be there bright and early.” I laugh. He stares down at me for a long moment, the heat of his body beckoning to me.

  “You get to feeling better, pretty girl, and I’ll try harder to not be a dick,” he whispers, leaning in and grazing my forehead with his lips. I shiver when he presses his lips to my skin, and swear I his body goes tense as he pulls away, but when I look up to say good-bye, he’s normal, and his eyes are back to being unreadable.

  “All right, Mr. Winston. I’ll see you in the morning,” I tease him, feeling more alive than I have since the night we shared together. He smiles, waving before he steps over the threshold. I move to close the door behind him and almost sigh, feeling those same rolling emotions he does, the ones he can’t seem to put into words.

  Leaning my head back against the door, I realize the pregnancy test is still in the bathroom. Scurrying across the floor, I run down the hall, reaching the bathroom just in time to see Marie leaving.

  What the hell? I thought no one else was home.

  My body collides with hers, but not before I see she’s holding the test. The look in her eyes says it all.

  Once in my car, I break down. No wonder Ava reminds me of my mystery girl so much. She is my mystery girl. I wrack my brain, trying to determine if maybe there’s a
chance it could be one of her roommates. I haven’t slept with anyone else since, and when I think really hard, I remember the mystery girl had sunshine blonde hair just like Ava. And, now that I’m thinking about it, she had whiskey-colored eyes too.

  Fuck! I slam my hand against the steering wheel in frustration. All the fucking signs were right there. I was just too fucking blind to see them. Pulling out my cell, I hit “call” on Reed’s contact info before I can stop myself.

  The line rings and rings, and just when I think he’s going to leave me hanging, he finally answers the phone.

  “This better be good,” he growls into the line, and I almost laugh at the anger in his voice.

  “Meet me down at Max’s bar in ten minutes. Oh, and bring Remy with you.” I don’t leave any room for negotiation, hanging up, then starting my car so I can head that direction. I know Reed has shit going on, a wife who could give birth within a few weeks, and planning that needs to be done, but I need him too.

  Traffic is light, so I get to the bar with a few minutes to spare. I can’t stop thinking about the fact that Ava is the mystery girl and what that means.

  Was it fate that brought us together? She opened me up that night, leaving an impression on my soul. The taste of her lips haunts me every night when I close my eyes.

  I can’t let her go—not now, not ever. I have to make her mine. I have to show her that I can be the man she needs me to be, that I won’t be like her father. Thinking back on that night, I remember there being a smattering of blood against the sheets. I thought maybe I hurt her.

  But what if…what if she gave me her virginity? The thought slams into me hard, wrapping around my heart. I’ve been with a lot of women in my short life, and none of them ever given me something so important. All this time, I thought it was her leaving an impression on me, but maybe there’s a piece of her living inside me.