by Ella Brooke
On top of that, he had to admit to himself that after two failed marriages and all of his dalliances, he was hesitant to make their relationship official. If what they had together became something tangible and definable, it could be taken away. They could break up. It could crush Hazel. No, Ian needed for this thing between them to remain flexible and free, just for a little bit longer.
If Hazel could stand it, they had the time to enjoy themselves and each other. They could worry about the future when it came.
Chapter Ten
With the end of the semester upon them, and Hazel burdened with her classes along with writing a book and taking point on the new philanthropic division of Cartwright & Benton, she came to the decision that, in spite of everything, she couldn’t have it all. She cut back on her hours at the grocery store and made some excuses to spend less time in the office with Ian. It killed her but, at the moment, she was too overwhelmed, and conflicted, to spend too much time with him.
After telling him that she loved him, she had hoped that he would eventually return the sentiment. She’d even given him opportunities to say it, but whenever she brought up their relationship, Ian grew brisk and vague. Her only way of making sense of it was that he enjoyed her company, and her work, and the sex, but he did not love her.
Daily, Hazel felt nerves prickling along her skin and a lump in her throat. While Hazel hadn’t taken an official test yet, she was now three weeks late, constantly nauseous and fatigued, and had cried the other day when the strap on her messenger bag broke. Granted, that could have been any student dealing with finals, but he knew herself and knew the difference. She couldn’t put off dealing with this for much longer. It was just too much right now.
Dragging her books around in her duffle bag, since she hadn’t had time to go out and get a new one, Hazel slid into a booth seat where Natalie was waiting for her. Mid-finals lunch bitch session. Hazel sighed with her whole body. Natalie had already ordered, and before her sat a humongous hamburger with a mountain of fries. Hazel expected the scent to nauseate her. Instead, her stomach growled loudly.
“Ha. Time to eat something. Too bad they’ve only got salads here,” Natalie teased.
“Oh, shut up. I’ll find something. I always do.” Hazel grabbed a menu and looked over it halfheartedly. The Peach Grill oddly only offered grilled peaches on ice cream. Their chef wasn’t big on fruits and vegetables in general.
“Or, you could try some of this burger the size of my head.” Natalie cut her burger in half with a steak knife and then proceeded to dance the burger closer and closer to Hazel’s face.
Hazel wanted to smack her. She also wanted to throw up, cry, and maybe eat Natalie’s hand. She leaned forward, intending to push the burger away… and took a huge bite.
Natalie stopped laughing as Hazel grabbed the burger from her and chewed guiltily.
“Whoa. I was just kidding. I didn’t want to push you to give up your values.”
“Shut up for once, Nat. You’re such a jerk about this.” Hazel put the burger down. “Is that cheese on there?”
“Um…”
“Crap.” Hazel shot up and darted for the bathroom.
It was almost ironic how she’d fought for the better part of two weeks not to throw up and had to force herself to do so now. It was either this, though, or being even sicker for the next few days, with a bonus rash. When she came out of the stall, Natalie was waiting there with a wet paper towel. Hazel glared at her as she wiped her mouth and went to the sink for some water.
“Hey, I didn’t make you eat it,” Natalie objected.
“You have all the empathy of a mollusk. Has anyone ever told you that?” Hazel leaned over the sink and groaned. Her new joy of the past two days had been cramping in her lower abdomen. She half-hoped it was her period showing up very late. She knew it wasn’t though.
“Are you actually sick? I didn’t think that thing about vegans getting sick if they ate meat was true.”
“Oh, it isn’t. I mean, it’s harder to digest at first, but we’re built to eat it, so your stomach enzymes bounce back pretty fast.” Hazel wanted to sit, but one look at the floor told her to just lean back against the wall. “It’s not the burger, Nat.”
“Do you have the flu or something?”
“No. I’m, um.” Hazel closed her eyes. “I think I’m pregnant.”
Hazel would’ve laughed if she didn’t feel like she wanted to die. Natalie’s eyes were bugging out so hard, like the idea of Miss Save the World getting herself knocked up was beyond human imagining.
“How?”
“The usual way,” Hazel drawled. “I think a condom must’ve broken. Or something. They say condoms are only effective ninety-eight percent of the time, so if you have sex a hundred times…”
That broke Natalie out of her shock. “Oh, stop it! You’d have a lethal UTI if you were having that much sex. And I would’ve seen the guy.”
“You wouldn’t. I never brought him to the apartment.”
Natalie put her hand on her hip and shook her head. “God, Haze, I think I’m proud of you.”
“You’re the worst.” Hazel headed for the door.
“No, wait. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to let myself think about it yet. And I haven’t told him, although with all of his ‘let’s just enjoy this’ talk, I’m pretty sure what his reaction is going to be.” Hazel threw her hands in the air. “How did I let this happen? Why did I do this to myself? I’m supposed to know better than this!”
Natalie rolled her eyes. “Look, I know you know better. The whole campus knows you know better. You’re smart, but you’re not a robot. You’re allowed to have feelings.”
“I wish I could manage to have feelings for a guy who could want a future with me.” Hazel felt tears stinging her eyes and moved her hand to cover her face.
Natalie took her hands. “Haze, you are not the only girl on the planet with daddy issues, okay? There are lots of girls, and guys, who are attracted to people who can’t love them back. But if you haven’t talked to him, if you haven’t really tried, then how do you know what he’ll say? Some guys are different when it comes to children.”
“So, what, trap him into a relationship with me because I can’t take hormonal birth control as a backup? That’s also not the kind of woman I want to be.”
“Stop being mean to yourself. That’s your mother’s job.”
Hazel couldn’t help it. She laughed.
“Okay,” Natalie continued. “How about we go out there, order something you can eat, and you let yourself off the hook if you need a protein boost via some meat? You look like you could use it, and one burger in the face of a lifetime of veganism isn’t going to send you to hell.”
“Alright,” Hazel said weakly.
“Then, when your blood sugar is stable, we can decide what to do with Mr. Commitment Problems.”
Hazel nodded and returned to the table with her. “It’s a little more complicated than that though. It isn’t that he just doesn’t want to commit, it’s that if he does, we could both get into trouble.”
Natalie flagged the waiter with one hand and put some of her fries on a napkin in front of Hazel. “Wait. Who is this guy?”
***
Hazel wasn’t really showing yet, but her stomach was definitely not as firm as it had been, and she was grateful that it was sweater weather now. At every opportunity, she drowned herself in long-sleeved, fuzzy numbers and slipped on leggings or sweatpants to top off the outfit. She would be concerned that this style might give her away, but she’d seen dozens of other harried girls rushing to and from finals, all dressed the same way.
Unfortunately, Ian’s taste for the extravagant left her with the undesirable task of dressing up for the evening. He’d insisted on going out now that the semester was over and had promised that no one would see them. She didn’t know if she believed him, but she had two options here, and one of them would definitely reveal th
eir secret… That was, if they stayed together.
Hazel dug through her wardrobe and selected a gray sweater dress with blackbirds embroidered on it. That way she could still wear her tights and have the fabric hanging loose around her. While she was dressing, Natalie came in, offering help with hair and makeup. The result, Hazel hoped, was somewhat put together.
Since Natalie already knew everything, Hazel let Ian pick her up at her apartment, and Natalie gave her a hug for support before Hazel headed down to the street. Hazel hated conflict. She hated talking about this after he’d already rebuffed her. But she had to make some decisions, and it had to be now.
She said little on the way to the restaurant. She didn’t know how to bring it up. How could she start this conversation again? Instead, she listened to him talking about how the philanthropic wing of his business was shaping up, and how he expected she would be a crucial part of making this work.
Great, no pressure there, Hazel thought.
To her surprise, though maybe she shouldn’t have been, the restaurant was empty. He’d bought it out for the night. The lights glowed dimly, and the host guided them to a table overlooking an expansive garden. It was lovely. It was intimate.
And she was going to ruin it.
“It’s good to have you alone,” Ian said, touching her fingers from across the table. “I’m sorry that we haven’t been able to spend as much time together the past few weeks.”
“That’s as much my fault as yours,” Hazel admitted.
“Still. I know I can get involved in my projects.” Ian gestured to the waiter, and the man poured wine for the both of them. Ian lifted his glass and nodded to Hazel. “To the end of the semester, and to all the new beginnings before us.”
God, how fitting was that? She lifted her glass, firmly repeating the advice she’d gotten from the clinic on campus the day before, that she could have one glass. And only one. It wasn’t even that tempting, other than to settle her nerves. She took a small sip it and then set her glass down.
“So now that it’s the end of the semester,” Hazel said, her voice shaking a little, “can we talk about these ‘future things’ that you want to put off? I know it isn’t your ideal circumstance, but we need to address us.”
Ian pressed his lips together and folded his fingers in front of him. He looked stern, almost like the teacher he no longer was to her. Hazel unfolded her napkin and sighed. She could hear gentle string music in the background. This was such a nice night.
“There’s simply no benefit to ignoring the fact that we have a relationship, Ian. A-and I’ve told you that I love you. I do.” Hazel swallowed hard. “I just need a timeline. Some kind of if/then scenario. If we continue this path, where are we going? Do you want to continue this path?”
“I think I’ve made it clear, Hazel, that I’d like things to continue. Would it be nice for us to have a public relationship? Yes, but that simply isn’t our reality.”
He was talking down to her. The change in his tone angered her. He was deliberately changing the subject or avoiding what he knew she wanted, and he was trying to sound older and superior.
“I never asked for this to go public. I’m not a stock option,” Hazel snapped. “I’m asking if you love me. I’m asking: do you want this to be a committed relationship, now or in the near future? I cannot be more direct. Obviously, I want us to be exclusive, to make plans together, at some point to live together. I’m not certain how I feel about marriage as an institution, which is fine, because I’d get why you might be hesitant to marry again so soon. That’s not important to me.”
Hazel placed her napkin back on the table. “You and I are what is important to me. And I need some kind of confirmation of that.”
“Darling, please calm down,” Ian said.
He was looking at her hard. She couldn’t read that expression. What was it? Was he angry? Was he embarrassed?
“I haven’t raised my voice. You don’t get to dictate my emotions. And there’s no one here! Who could possibly care if I suddenly got angry at you for acting like a stupid, cowardly college boy who won’t give me a damn answer?”
“Hazel, please, let’s just put this on the backburner for a little bit long—”
“No, Ian. I don’t think I’m asking for too much. I just want to know how you feel. Where you see us in three months? Six months? Nine months? Are we together next year? Do you even want that?”
Ian rubbed his hands together and pursed his lips. “I can’t answer that right now.”
Something snapped. Hazel stood and headed toward the door. Ian jumped up and grabbed her wrist.
“Stop it! Get off of me!” She jerked away from him. “How can you do this? How can you sit there so passively? After all this time? We’ve been together for months now. And I’m nothing to you? Just a good time?”
“Hazel, it isn’t like that. Can you just—”
“I swear to fucking God, if you tell me to calm down, I’m going to break your balls, Ian Cartwright.” Hazel winced at the harshness of her voice, but she wouldn’t stop. “Forget this. Forget all of this. Forget you knew me. I never imagined I could be so utterly disappointed in you.”
And with that, she left the restaurant, called an Uber, and cried all the way back to her apartment.
Chapter Eleven
The winter break had been painful. While Ian had been scrambling to find an appropriate new head for the project to connect with Meryl’s domestic and sexual violence organization as well as deciding what to do with this unfinished book, the worst part of the fallout came when he was at home. He had gotten used to Hazel coming over—sharing his bed, walking through his penthouse in various states of undress, humming bits and pieces of numbers they’d heard at the symphony. He had thought that she would come back after their fight in the restaurant, since she didn’t have a ride, but she’d simply disappeared, and would not take his calls.
He was alone. And every thought of her stung.
Hazel would be fine without him. She could easily get an internship for her Capstone, find jobs on her own, do her own research as she continued to make her way to the top. The reality was that Ian needed her. He couldn’t give her up. He also could not find her. He’d tried to visit her at her apartment, but her friend Natalie always rebuffed him and claimed that Hazel didn’t live there anymore. Ian wasn’t sure if that was true. He couldn’t keep hanging around the apartment building though. Not without giving himself away.
During his long nights, he wondered to himself if it had been worth it to keep their affair a secret. He’d always imagined that he’d been in control of Hazel, and she would follow his lead regarding their relationship. As powerful as she could be, she also had let Ian steer their relationship in ways that Ian hadn’t expected. Now, every night, he got up, paced around his house, saw her out of the corner of his eye, and thought about whether he’d been taking advantage of her age and uncertainty so that he didn’t have to make a commitment yet.
He wasn’t certain of that. However, he was certain that he should have just been honest with Hazel about how he felt—how he loved her, but needed time, not just for PR purposes, but to adjust to being in a serious relationship again. Sometimes, he dreamed of having conversations with her or spotting her on campus, but she always slipped away before the two of them could talk.
It was nearing the end of January when Ian finally spotted Hazel for real. She was talking to some friends, wearing another loose sweater that she apparently favored during the winter months, and set her bag on the ground and stretched her back.
Ian considered letting her be, but only for a moment. He was on campus because he’d had a meeting that morning with the head of the Business department, who was evaluating the practicum from last semester in hopes of repeating the course, either with Ian or other visiting professors. Now he was standing there, watching Hazel from afar, like some kind of teenage pervert. He took a few steps closer and, suddenly, from his new angle, or thanks to a few students moving
along with their business, he could now see her in full. He had to blink and shake his head to be certain that it was actually her.
The sweater was not that loose. It flowed long enough to be a dress and hung freely with the cardigan Hazel wore over it, but around her middle, the fabric curved forward in a distinctive bulge.
Hazel was pregnant. She was clearly, blatantly pregnant. Had she known when they’d fought in the restaurant? Ian took a moment to berate himself. Of course, she had known. She had been avoiding alcohol, taking mere sips of wine when it was offered. She had looked pale and tired, and… He should have guessed. His first wife, Pearl, had gotten pregnant once, and he knew the symptoms before she’d lost the baby and been unable to get pregnant again.
He should have known. And he should have been honest with her. Hazel must have felt so trapped…
Ian walked up to the group of them quickly and said in a booming voice, “Hello there, Miss Greenwood. You’re looking well.”
Hazel jumped as she heard him. A hand flew over the curve of her modest belly. How far along was she? She could only be four months at most…
Wait, was this baby even his?
He realized that he was glaring at her when she started glaring back.
“Good morning, Dr. Cartwright. I didn’t know you’d be coming back to campus. Or did you have business to follow up on here?” she said sharply.
Ian sighed. “You and I need to talk about what you left unfinished at Cartwright & Benton. If you could come to my office on campus sometime today?”