By the end of my shift, I was practically squirming with excitement. I'd spent my lunch hour conferring with Claude, the art critique who oversaw most of the endowment activities. He was thrilled, to say the least, to hear that Joel was back in the picture.
But when I bounded in through my front door to give Joel the happy news, something in his expression told me that he had news too. But unlike mine, it wasn't going to be good.
Chapter 24
Obviously, Joel had been waiting for me. Either that, or he'd heard my car and decided to greet me at the front door. Either way, the look on his face was making me just a little bit nervous.
At something in my expression, he paused. "Baby, what's wrong?"
It was a funny question, but I didn't feel like laughing. I should be asking him the same thing, because it was pretty obvious that something wasn't quite right.
Stalling, I turned and pulled the door shut behind me. Night had already fallen, and I should've been home hours ago. But between Derek's interruption and a long, tense conversation with Cassie, followed by an impromptu trip to the grocery store, I'd been delayed well past my expectations.
I still had my purse dangling from one hand and a couple of plastic grocery bags dangling from the other. Joel looked to the bags and said, "Here, lemme get those."
When he moved forward, I silently handed over the bags and watched as he set them – not in the kitchen as I might've expected – but on the floor beside us.
I gave the bags a perplexed look. In them were all of the ingredients for homemade pizza, along with a bottle of the best champagne I could afford, meaning, of course, that it was the cheap stuff.
But it was the thought that counted, right? Between our engagement and my news about the endowment, I'd been in the mood for a celebration.
Now, I wasn't so sure.
I was still looking at the bags when Joel took me into his arms. He felt warm and wonderful, and I couldn't stop myself from leaning into him.
Into my hair, he said, "Bad day?"
"No. Not really." Not yet, anyway.
"So, what is it?" he asked.
I pulled back to say, "When I walked in, you looked like you had bad news."
He gave me a smile filled with regret. "Sorry, but I do." He glanced toward the front door. "I've gotta go."
Something like panic seized at my heart. "You mean now?"
He hesitated. "No. But soon."
"Why?" I asked.
Briefly, Joel explained that Cal had just called him, asking for help. Apparently, he'd broken his leg trying to move a dresser down a stairway alone, and now, he was in a bind, because he'd made some commitments that he couldn't break.
When Joel finished, I realized I was smiling – oh, crap – because nothing says smile like a nice, broken leg. I wiped the smile from my face and said, "Poor Cal."
Joel gave me a perplexed look. "What'd you think I was gonna say?"
"I don’t know," I admitted. "It's just the way you were looking, I thought it might be something worse." I smiled up at him. "So you offered to help?"
"I wouldn't go that far," Joel said. "But he needs a favor, and I sure as hell can't say no."
"Because you feel sorry for him?"
"No," Joel said. "Because I owe him."
"For what? Letting you stay at his place?"
"Not just that." Joel pulled me closer. "For keeping you safe when I was too pissed off to think."
I smiled against him. "You mean in the parking lot?"
Joel's voice held no hint of humor. "Don't remind me."
Feeling suddenly flirtatious, I couldn't help but tease, "The night wasn't all bad."
Joel refused to be teased out of it. "I was so damn stupid."
Again, I pulled back. "Forget that. We've got a new beginning, right?" With total sincerity, I said, "And just so you know, with Cal, I think you're doing the right thing."
"Hell, I'm doing the only thing, because if something had happened to you…"
"But it didn't."
"I know. And it's not gonna." Finally, he smiled. "Because I won't let it."
As we made our way into the kitchen, Joel gave me some good news, followed by the opposite kind. The good news was that he could delay his departure until early the next morning. The bad news was, he'd be gone for at least a week, maybe even two.
My footsteps faltered. "Why so long?" I asked. "You're just helping him move, right?"
"Cal? Nah. He's not moving."
"Really? So why was he moving the dresser?"
"I dunno. I didn't ask."
Huh. That was weird. "So what are you helping him with?"
"Just some stuff out of town."
It felt like a non-answer, and in spite of my earlier relief, I had a terrible feeling about where this was going. Cal was a fighter. He had a broken leg. And now Joel was keeping some out-of-town commitment.
Standing at the kitchen counter, I began unpacking the bags, even as the questions piled up. Which town? And what kind of favor?
Finally, I just asked, "What aren't you telling me?"
Joel frowned. "What do you mean?"
I recalled the look on his face when I first walked in. I said, "Something's wrong, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Joel said. "The thought of leaving you…" He shook his head. "It made me wanna break his other leg."
Sweet or not, this felt like another non-answer. "Oh come on. You don't mean that."
"Wanna bet?" His gaze shifted to my hand, and he smiled. "I was gonna take you shopping tomorrow."
At this, I couldn't help but smile back. "Oh really? For what?"
"You know what." His gaze met mine. "If you want, I'll ask you all over again – this time, with the ring."
I recalled my conversation with Cassie. It was her final comment that really hurt. "You might be smiling now, but if you're not careful, you'll be crying before you know it."
It had been an awful thing to say, especially coming from Cassie, who'd always been so supportive. I didn't get it. She really liked Joel. I knew she did.
Would it make her feel better if Joel proposed all over again in a more traditional way? Maybe. But this wasn't about Cassie. This was about me and the guy I loved.
So I pushed all those doubts aside and told Joel with utter sincerity. "It was perfect the way it was, and I wouldn't change a thing."
He smiled. "Yeah?"
I nodded. "Definitely." I considered the situation with Cal. I still had those questions. Before the night ended, I was determined to get those answers. But first, I was dying to tell Joel about the endowment.
So, standing right there in the kitchen, I did – only to be further confused by his odd reaction.
Chapter 25
When I finished talking, Joel paused for a long moment before saying, "Alright."
We were still standing at the kitchen counter. Beyond eager to tell him, I'd explained everything in a rush – how I'd refused to give up his endowment slot, how Claude was thrilled to hear that Joel had returned, and how we were just a few signatures away from making everything official.
It was exciting news. And yet, Joel didn't look excited.
Wondering what I was missing, I said, "So, that's good news, right?"
He glanced away. "Yeah."
I recalled his obvious happiness the last time around. I saw none of that now. But of course, I was being unreasonable, wasn't I? After all, the last time hadn't ended so great. Shortly after that initial burst of happiness, he'd lost the endowment and me, all in the same day.
But that wasn't going to happen, not this time. Looking to drive the point home, I said, "And just so you know, it's a total done-deal. We just need to sign the paperwork, that's all."
He reached up to rub the back of his neck. "Alright."
Alright?
Again?
I bit my lip. "I'm sorry, but I've gotta ask something."
"Yeah? What?"
"Are you honestly excited? Or are you just saying that?" I gave a nervous la
ugh. "I mean, after the last time, I was kind of worried you'd give up painting for good."
He looked away, as if seeing something on the distant horizon. But there was no horizon. There was just the two of us, standing here in my oversized kitchen. As the silence stretched out, it became increasingly obvious that I'd been right. He wasn't thrilled with the prospect of painting again.
Finally, he returned his gaze to mine. "Alright, you want the truth?"
I nodded. After all, I had asked for it.
He shrugged. "I don't care either way."
"What do you mean?"
"You need the money, right?"
"The endowment money? But that's for you, remember?" I smiled. "Since you're the actual artist and all."
"It's not for me," he said. "It's for us."
In a way, I saw what he meant. Soon, we were going to be married, which meant that we'd sink or swim together.
The endowment was a generous one. If we weren't too extravagant, it could pay for months of living expenses, maybe even more than months if we were really careful.
But more than that, it would give Joel the chance to do something he loved. I gave him a nervous glance. He did still love it, right?
I had to ask, "But you're not doing it only for the money, are you?"
He gave a tight shrug. "Better than fighting."
I couldn’t argue with that, but it wasn't exactly a glowing endorsement. "True," I said. "But there must be more to it than that."
"There is." His gaze met mine. "I wanna be here for you." He gave me the ghost of a smile. "Hard to do that if I'm off, beating the hell out of people."
It was a nice sentiment, but vaguely unsatisfying. I was so happy, and I wanted him to be happy, too.
Hoping to get the ball rolling, I forced a smile. "We should celebrate." I reached into the nearest grocery bag and pulled out the bottle of champagne. I lifted it in Joel's direction and said, "You know what I think? We should drink the whole bottle."
He eyed the bottle. After a long pause, he said, "What's that?"
Wasn't it obvious? I looked to the label. The handwriting was ultra-fancy, even if the champagne itself wasn't. "Well, it's not the good stuff, if that's what you're asking." I forced a laugh. "But who cares, right? By the third glass, we won't even notice."
I wasn't a huge drinker, but tonight, I was determined to make an exception.
I was still holding the bottle. I'd expected Joel to take it, but he hadn't. I cleared my throat. "So, do you want to open it or do you want me to give it a try?"
Silently, Joel took the bottle from my outstretched hand. He lifted it higher to study the label.
And then, he frowned.
I felt my face grow warm. Okay, so I'd bought the cheapest bottle I could find. But it's not like I was asking him to drink motor oil. I asked, "What's wrong?"
He was still looking at the label. "There's alcohol in here."
"Well, yeah," I said. "It is champagne, even if it isn't the best stuff."
He gave me an odd look. "You're not having any, are you?"
"Sure." I hesitated. "Why wouldn't I?"
His gaze drifted to my stomach. "You know why."
It took me a moment to realize the significance of that look. But when I did, I almost felt like throwing up – but not for the reason that Joel obviously thought.
Chapter 26
Standing in the kitchen, the silence stretched out between us. He lifted his gaze to mine and gave me a look that I couldn’t quite decipher.
Around us, the house felt eerily big and unnaturally quiet. Under the weight of his stare, I had no idea what to say.
Well, at least, he wasn't looking at my stomach anymore.
As we stood there, watching each other with wary eyes, scenes from the last few days raced through my mind. I recalled that final elevator ride with Luna. For a minute there, she'd obviously assumed that I was pregnant. But I'd set her straight on that. Hadn't I?
Suddenly, the kitchen felt way too hot. I recalled Joel showing up out of the blue and proposing right there in my open doorway, like he'd been far too eager to wait. At the time, I'd chalked it up to unbridled love.
Obviously, I'd been wrong.
He was still holding that stupid bottle of champagne. I had a sudden urge to rip it out of his hands and fling it against the far wall. But I didn't. Instead, I reached out and gripped the bottom of the bottle. I gave it a tug until he finally let go.
I set the bottle on the counter and let out a long, shaky breath. We wouldn't be needing that anymore. Obviously, neither one of us felt like celebrating.
Maybe Cassie was right. Maybe I would be crying before it was all over. But I wasn't going to cry now, not if I could help it.
I took a deep, steadying breath and said, "I'm not pregnant, if that's what you're thinking."
Again, his gaze drifted to my stomach.
I felt my jaw clench. "Just stop it, okay?" My voice sounded sharp, even to my own ears. "There's nothing to see." With a muttered curse, I turned away. I felt like such a fool. I should've realized this. Or, at the very least, I should've known that my fairy tale ending was just a sham, based on a lie, whether intentional or not.
Looking to do something, anything, to keep myself from crying, I yanked the remaining groceries from the plastic bags and started putting the items away. As I moved, I felt Joel's gaze following me around the kitchen, haunting my steps like a dark apparition.
He still hadn't said anything, and maybe that was for the best. After all, what could he say?
Of course, I could think a few things that might've helped – starting with "That wasn't the reason I proposed" and ending with, "It doesn't change a single thing."
But he didn’t say either of those things, and I guess I couldn’t blame him. But I could blame Luna. What on Earth had she been thinking? Even if I were pregnant, didn't I deserve the chance to tell him?
Putting away the final item, a lone can of pizza sauce, I found myself deep inside the pantry, staring at the barren shelves. Before my parents had died, the shelves had been nearly overflowing with all kinds of things that I'd taken utterly for granted.
Now, I had a few cans of soup, two boxes of pasta, and the lone can of pizza sauce. I'd been planning to use it tonight. But now, I wasn't remotely hungry, and from what I suspected, neither was Joel.
Out of groceries to put away, I just stood there, staring at the barren shelves. I don't know how long I was standing there before I heard movement behind me. I didn't even turn to look.
Still facing the back wall, I said, "If you want to leave tonight, I totally understand."
His voice was quiet. "Is that what you want?"
"Honestly? I don't know what I want." Finally, I turned to face him. His face was pale, and his eyes were dark. I sucked in a ragged breath. "And I guess I don't know what you want either."
This was his cue to say that he still wanted me, that nothing had changed, and that he proposed not because he felt he had to, but because he wanted to.
He said nothing.
I clamped my lips shut and waited for some sort of response. None came, and as the silence stretched on, I felt my frustration grow. Finally, I blurted out, "If that's what you thought, why didn't you say something?"
Again, his gaze drifted to my stomach.
Oh, for God's sake.
I made a sound of annoyance. "Seriously, you've been here for what? Two days? And you never thought to ask?"
His gaze returned to mine. "I was waiting for you to tell me."
"For how long?"
"What?"
Through gritted teeth, I said, "How long would've you waited?" I gave a bark of laughter. "Lemme guess. Nine months?"
His jaw tightened. "You think I didn't want to ask?"
"I don't know. Did you?"
"Hell yeah, I wanted to ask."
"So?" I said. "Why didn't you?"
He glanced away. "I didn't want you to think it was the only reason."
&nb
sp; But obviously, it was the only reason, because he wasn't saying otherwise. I was mortified at the thought of asking him, and yet, I had to know.
I asked, "Was it?"
He shoved a hand through his hair. "Fuck."
"You know what? Forget I asked."
I lunged forward, intending to move past him. But as I did, he reached out and practically yanked me into his arms. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don’t leave." His grip tightened. "Not like that."
As a profession of love and devotion, it was utterly lacking. He was still holding me, but the embrace felt wrong. His arms were stiff, and his stance was rigid.
Feeling suddenly claustrophobic, I yanked myself out of his grip and stared at up at him. The pantry felt way too small, and I was having a hard time breathing.
We were standing so close, I had to crane my neck to stare up at him. "Just tell me," I said. "What do you want? Are you sorry you proposed? Do you want to take it back? Is that it?"
He gazed at me with anguished eyes. "I never said that."
I waited for him to say more.
He didn't.
I made a scoffing sound. "Well, that was informative."
Again, Cassie's words rang in my memories. You'll be crying before you know it.
I had to wonder, was Cassie the type to say those four awful words. I told you so. I'd never heard her say it before, but soon, she'd have the perfect opportunity.
If it weren't so pathetic, I might have laughed. I recalled all of the other points she'd made – that until Joel's surprise proposal, he'd been gone for weeks with zero contact; that he'd walked away once, which meant he was capable of doing it again; that I had no idea where he'd been or what he'd been doing.
But that last part wasn't true. He'd been with Cal, a guy I'd actually met.
So Cassie wasn't right about everything.
Was I grasping at straws? Probably.
In front of me, Joel reached for my hand. "I'm not gonna back out, if that's what you think."
I stared up at him. "Back out?"
He gave a tight nod.
"Like what?" I said. "Like out of some real estate deal that's gone south?" I blinked long and hard. This wasn't the way I wanted it. Probably, I should be giving him some credit. He was, after all, offering to live up to his end of the bargain.
Something True (Joel Bishop Book 2) Page 10