Connor must have seen a similar one-hundred-and eighty degree turn, minus the baby and probably the nights spent studying. I’m sure he was terrified of what mom and dad were going to say, and the rest of the family, along with what that meant for his future, who he would end up with. It was all way too much for either of us to process, so we both just cried, like two little twin babies left in some tangled up nest in the middle of a crazy jungle. Both of us lost, both of us hoping that somehow, maybe someone would help and pull us out. Just a nudge, then I can do the rest by myself.
All I need is a nudge.
***
“Shit,” Con said, crunching on a protein bar he had left unwrapped on the coffee table.
“Yeah, shit,” I said, playing with the tassels of a tacky, navy green pillow that Con insisted was somehow in fashion. Or at least attractive.
“What are you going to do?” Con asked, opening with the obvious question from the start. it was something that, well to be truthful, I just hadn’t decided yet. Both options were on the table, and I didn’t know which one was going to be chosen. There was one choice that was tugging at me a bit more than the others.
“I’m leaning towards adoption,” I said, just spewing out my first instinct. Saying it out loud helped make it sound more solid, more real. It made it somehow less scary. And then I thought of Dr. Evans, well, Blake. I clearly had to tell him, I wasn’t going to play out some secret pregnancy plotline from an overdramatic Spanish soap opera. That would require me to cry in various volume levels with my face scrunching up for long stretches of time, just something I didn’t want to sign up for.
So I needed to tell him. It was the aftermath that I was nervous about.
He had a wife.
Oh no, no, oh jeez, no.
I was a home-wrecker. I was one of the girls I detested, the ones that I wanted to tie around one large, old oak tree and send floating down a river, one that ended in a raging waterfall. I could feel the slow, lulling waters of a peaceful river underneath me. I could hear the roaring of the foaming waterfall from where I was.
I was a fucking home-wrecker.
I clutched the tousles tight in my hand as I stifled back another cry, creeping up on me with the speed of a primed cheetah. This was so messed up.
“Shh, hey, girl. Listen to me, you’re strong. You’re strong and you’re one of the fucking smartest people I know. You also are very attractive and just happen to share a strong resemblance with me.”
“Just happen.”
“Exactly,” Con said, throwing an arm around my shoulder and drawing me into him. ‘Just happen,’ was something we often said to each other growing up, a phrase that meant things were just going to happen and we needed to roll along with them, we needed to just happen and things would work out. It was oddly comforting and silenced the choked back tears, sending them back into their emotional cave, waiting for the next opportunity to jump.
“So what are you gonna do about Dr. McBabyDaddy?” Con asked with a smile and a small pump of my shoulder, reminding me to find some humor in the situation. He was always good at keeping me away from the dark, making sure that my mood was always uplifted. I guess that’s how we complimented each other the most, he helped in making sure that I was sane and I helped in making sure that he didn’t end up failing Physics. We balanced each other out and helped the other succeed, it was why I loved him.
“Tell him and consider whatever he has to say.” I sighed, looking out of the window and into Connor’s unkempt backyard, a bush creeping over one of the wooden planks that made up the fence. “I’m the one choosing though.”
I was scared, scared of what he would say. I knew that he wasn’t going to leave his wife for me, that part was obvious. So how could he let me loose like that? An unaccounted for liability roaming the streets, ready to leak out this “news” to the nearest journalist. The media would be on it in a heartbeat.
“Famous celebrity plastic surgeon; mistress in college! Wife has gone and taken everything with her!”
“Famed and real-life Dr. Hotty discovered in bed with someone who can’t even legally drink! What will happen to his career? His wife? His future child? Find out tonight!”
“Blake Evans, disgusting cheater gives up his practice after allegations and proof surface. Tune in at ten to hear the details on this developing story.”
All headlines ripped straight from whatever news outlet you wanted to look at. Blake Evans was a public figure, and here I was with something that would tarnish him forever. I could only see him wanting one option.
“Of course, Sky. Listen, this is going to turn out fine, trust me.” He planted a brotherly kiss on the side of my forehead and we sat there, wondering if things were actually going to be fine or if it was just a lie we had to keep repeating. Something to keep us trucking through the mess. I took a moment and stretched the tight muscles in my neck which allowed me to compose myself, feeling the strength come back to me. I was going to be ok, everything was going to be ok.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, becoming more concerned about my brother now. The last thing I wanted to do was overload him with even more drama, but tonight I couldn’t help it.
“Fine... You know I didn’t come down with a cold right?” he said, poking a finger into my ribs. I chuckled, knowing that Con knew what I had meant.
“Do you feel happier?” I wanted him to be happy, I so wanted my brother to be happy. It wasn’t fair seeing him and knowing how much he had hurt inside.
“Yeah, I actually, genuinely, do. Even though not everyone knows, I feel so much more open, like I’m not thinking about everything before I do it.” He took a deep breath next to me, expelling all that negative energy in one huge exhale, like a ship billowing out of port. It was his time to go sail and figure the world out, figuratively of course, Connor hated the water.
“Soo… have you met any guys?” I couldn’t help myself, I wanted to know what my Con was up to, who he was dating. I didn’t actually need to give my stamp of approval, but I liked to think that it at least counted for something.
“Actually,” he paused, I could tell he was smiling just by the way his voice changed, it was what happened when he brought his cheeks up and created those dimples that seemed to attract girls by the droves. Well, and guys now too.
“Tell me, tell me everything.” I sat up and scooped a leg underneath me, leaning back on a less tacky dark yellow pillow.
“Well, we met on Tinder.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t know. It’s that online dating app for your phone? You end up chatting with people you think are hot? Nothing?”
I broke my farce, unable to hold it any longer. I had actually met my last three dates on Tinder, they all turned out to be… well, less than optimal, but they were great conversationalists! I still expected a prince to come save his Tinderella and put on the glass slipper, er glass iPhone case? Whatever the situation, I ended up cracking and smiling over at Connor, admitting the truth.
“You honestly think you could have gotten that by me?” Con playful tossed a pillow, the tacky one, at my head, causing it to bounce off and land on the plush bleached blue carpet he had pinned under the front of his couch.
“Whatever, so you met a guy?” I swooned, slapping his knee playfully. It felt comfortable talking to Con about this, about guys. Like something we were meaning to do for the longest time and just finally got around to doing it, two elderly friends coming together after years for a cup of tea and falling into something so ordinary, neither blinked an eye. That’s how it felt.
“Yeah, we met for some drinks at Hamburger Mary’s,” he said, smiling and blushing at the same time. It was rare to see my brother blush and it always had a warming effect on my heart, like a little space heater just chugging along in my chest cavity.
“And?” I prodded, knowing that it couldn’t have ended there.
“Well, we’re still talking. He’s actually a Theta,” Con said.
“Nice, you guys can go to your
frat formals together and be super bro-y,” I teased, knowing that Theta was short for another fraternity on campus, I also knew that Con had a tendency to “bro-out” as I liked to put it. This involved him wearing various shades of neon, boat shoes without a boat anywhere in sight, and khaki shorts that are short enough to show some thigh action, but long enough to hide the ball action. Thankfully, this wasn’t Connor on most days, just the ones he got the urge to dress like that, almost like he was a werewolf.
Hah, a fratwolf. Transforming in the middle of the night to the sound of a kegger.
I needed to tame my imagination.
“He’s actually as far from a bro as you are. He’s premed and really into studying and shit.”
“And he’s in a frat… why?”
“Said his father wanted him to, so he’s just sort of going through the actions,” Con said, apparently getting to know this guy really well. That sounded like a pretty tough place to be in.
And then I remembered; I’m pregnant.
The breath whooshed out of me, my lungs compressing in one, united, tight hug. I felt my mind go foggy as my senses dulled and my cheeks got wet all over again. Con wrapped his arms around me and held me in another embrace, it was a hug that seemed like everything was going to be ok. The types of hugs that really speak more than words can ever say, and once again I felt myself calming down.
I was never a big crier, even growing up. My mom always joked that my dad secretly sold his soul so that one of the twins would be guaranteed to be calm and focused. Whatever he did, it seemed to have worked because I always had my set goals and ways to accomplish them and rarely shed a tear when I was younger. Even in the ninth grade, I had my whole year penciled out with a huge (and really quite impressive) collection of colored markers and highlighters. My parents thought they got lucky with me.
“Surprise, mom and dad!! I’m pregnant and the father is a celebrity who’s married!”
Be careful what you wish for, that’s what they should have been thinking.
I shook it off and tried not to focus on it, bringing myself back to Connor.
“When do I get to meet him?” I asked, my voice still a little shaky but gaining back its confidence.
“Soon, but I think we should both go to bed. It’s been a long ass day,” Con said, knowing that we both couldn’t last much longer, we needed to crash. “You can take my bed and I’ll just crash on the couch.” I got up and put the navy green pillow back on the couch, like a booger sticking onto the sofa.
It was that bad.
We both said our goodnights and I tucked myself in. It took me a little longer to get to sleep, my mind racing and then slowing, racing and slowing.
I just knew one thing; I needed to tell Blake. It was the last piece of the puzzle, the final variable I needed to solve.
A variable that I knew nothing about.
That was what was the scariest part.
CHAPTER THREE
THE MORNING ROLLED IN SLOW, creeping through Connor’s closed blinds and peaking up from over the dark blue comforter I had thrown over my head. For about five seconds, I had that feeling everyone always describes, the moment when they think everything was just one crazy dream. Then realization comes crashing into the party and locking up all the alcohol, being the Debbie Downer to everything else. I took another five minutes underneath the comforters to compose myself and prep for facing the real world. It wasn’t until breakfast when I realized I actually didn’t have any real contact information for Blake besides where he worked.
“Jeez, I’m a slut. It’s official.” I sighed into my coffee, hot steam coming up and hitting my face.
“Shut up, you made a mistake and you’re going to live with it. Besides, you’re the biggest prude I know. You’ve hooked up with what, two guys in your whole life?” He put his plate in the sink, framed by the dark black marble countertop that gave his kitchen a very luxurious feel, I was a little surprised at how well it looked actually, especially comparing it to the patchwork his living room felt like.
He had a point though, I really had only had sex with two other guys before Blake, but that was only because they were both in long-term relationships with me so I really had no chance to go out and explore. It was just my luck that when I finally decided to explore, I would come back with a little surprise souvenir.
“Fine, but I still have to deal with the whole home-wrecker thing.”
“Yeah, that’s fucked up.” Con didn’t even deny it, coming up behind me and massaging some of the tension that was balled up at the very tops of my shoulders, just where they rose up to meet my neck.
“But hey, at least he’s really rich,” Con said, trying to find some silver lining in all of this. I gently reminded him that neither of us was exactly desperate for money.
“You’re right, you’re right.” He let go of my slightly more relaxed shoulders and walked over to the couch, throwing his bare feet up onto the glass table.
“Listen, Sky. You’re not any different than who you were five days ago, and that was a smart, driven, compassionate girl. You didn’t suddenly turn into a husband-crazed sex monster determined to end all relationships.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” I said, jumping off the barstool and grabbing my purse from the elegant, antiquated side-table that looked a little out of place amongst the more modern furnishings.
Patchwork.
“Let me know how it goes,” Con called out to me, simultaneously flipping on the television and opening his textbook for Greek Mythology.
“Will do,” I called back, closing the door behind me and feeling my pulse start to race. It was like a techno rave was raging at full steam inside me, the bass thumping away at my heart. I had no idea how this was going to go, but I knew I didn’t want to get tied up in a media shitstorm either, which seemed like more and more of a possibility as I got closer to the hospital. All that needed to happen was for someone to connect the dots and leak the news to the closest blogger.
But I needed to tell him, it needed to happen today.
I climbed out of my car, and with hands tucked nervously into the pockets of my dark jeans, I trekked into the hospital, it’s impressive glass entrance towering above me. It was quite beautiful, especially for being the exterior of a hospital.
I knew up to reception, my shoulders held back in a weak attempt at displaying some courage, and asked to see him.
“Do you have an appointment,” the lady asked, her white-out acrylic nails tapping away at the keyboard.
“No,” I stammered. “But I need to see him today, it’s important.”
“Mam, if you need urgent medical attention then we’ll call another doctor.”
I brushed it off. “It’s not medically urgent.”
“Well, sorry then but he’s busy all day.”
I said a quick thanks and stepped back, trying to come up with something, someway to get to him. A vaguely familiar looking blonde walked by me, her eyes pointed to the ground in front of her, a bandage stuck over her swollen nose. I watched her walk up to the desk and get directions straight to Blake.
For once, I felt like luck was finally on my side. I switched directions and kept pace behind the post-op blonde, the woman behind the desk staring straight at her computer like a falcon locked onto its prey. We took a few long hallways and one elevator to finally reach Blake’s office, where I quickly ducked into the bathroom just next door. I didn’t want to just barge in there like some crazy woman, I knew this needed to be handled with grace, like a delicate dance between two untrained ballerinas.
I knew it wasn’t going to go well.
I stayed in the stalls for about an hour, or at least that’s what it felt like, especially after I finished up the level I could never pass on Candy Crush. When I felt like it was finally safe to come out, I clicked open the stall and stepped out into the white lights of the hospital hallway.
It was empty.
I pressed my ear against the door labeled, “DR. BLAK
E EVANS” on a seemingly gold name badge. I heard a little movement, like shuffling of papers, but nothing that told me there was someone in there. My fingers closed around the doorknob and turned, pushing the door open and hearing a screech of surprise mixed with a grunt of confusion just as I saw Blake Evans with his face buried right in between the blonde girl’s thighs. I froze for a second, a second that felt like an hour, and slammed the door shut.
The blood in my body dropped down to my feet, sucking the life out of my brain and giving me the light-headed feeling that comes just before someone passes out. I held a shaky hand out and posted myself up against the white wall, trying to process what I just saw.
First of all: I realized where I recognized that blonde from. She was that new host on the morning talk show, the one where everything got talked about but nothing ever really got resolved.
Second of all: I wasn’t the only one.
It was a ridiculous thought, especially when laid out and really analyzed. I, as the cheater, expected myself to be a special little snowflake, the only one of his concubines that were in on his little secret. It was a sick thought process that seemed to have surfaced the moment I opened that door.
The rustling in the room got louder as hushed whispers carried out under the door, their worry apparent in their hurried speech. I couldn’t make out exactly what they said, but I did hear her ask if I would say anything. I couldn’t hear his answer, but I didn’t want to. I steadied myself and took another deep breath in. I was going to get through this and I wasn’t going to run, either. I was taking this asshole head on.
The door clicked open and the blonde rushed out, her baseball cap pulled down much lower on her head, hiding her eyes this time. The bandage was gone, and I had to admit, it didn’t look bad. The asshole could do his job right at least.
I walked in, not even waiting to be called. Blake sat there, behind his strong desk, the same one that was supporting the weight of one full body and one upper torso just moments before. His navy blue shirt collar was unbuttoned and turned up slightly in the corner, his tie lying hanging off the back of his chair and his white coat thrown unceremoniously onto a small brown loveseat in the corner. He couldn’t even be bothered to clean up everything.
Monitored (The White Coat Series Book 3) Page 2