Ian grabs the whiskey bottle and gulps more alcohol down his throat, the effects not helping numb the feeling of chaos that consumes him.
All his dreams are washing away. He brings the bottle to his lips once more and chugs down more of the warm alcohol. It stings his chest, making him cough. Emma storms off down the hallway. All he can think about is how he is going to explain all of this to Grace.
Chapter 9
Misery consumes Grace, not the heartbreaking type of misery, but the heart aching type of misery. She misses Ian with everything she has. Her loft still smells of his cologne. His shampoo still sits on her shower shelf. One of his watches lies on his nightstand, and she cannot bring herself to make his side of the bed. He has only been gone for a day, but she is in agony.
She sits at her piano practicing, remembering all the fun they had together when they were teens and over the past few weeks. Ian was a far better piano teacher than the one she pays a boatload of money to every week. She has tried to call Ian three times, sometimes just to hear his voice on the message, but he does not answer. He is probably just now getting home, she thinks, and then shrugs off her feelings of neglect. In the meantime, she mopes around her loft, missing Ian.
Grace misses Ian too much. Even though she talked to Ian last night, phone calls do not quench the thirst she has for his love. That’s it, she thinks. I’ve got to be with him. She hops online and books herself a flight, for that very night, to Los Angeles. She calls her agent, and although she has never done anything so unprofessional, she cancels all her bookings for the next two weeks. She frantically throws her clothes, beauty items, and whatever else she needs into her suitcase. She has one hour to make it to the airport on time. Picking up the phone, she dials Michelle.
“Allo.”
“Hey, Missy.”
“What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you would keep an eye on the loft while I’m gone.”
“While you’re gone?” Michelle asks.
“I’m going to be with Ian,” she says, barely able to contain her excitement.
“Oh, how cute. So cute it makes me throw up a bit,” Michelle groans.
“Oh, shut up, Missy. I can’t stand it. I miss him too much. I have to be with him.”
“Yeah, I’ll watch the loft. What about your bookings? I mean, isn’t that why you didn’t go in the first place?”
“I canceled them. I just want to be with him. I want to come home with him. Start our new lives together as soon as possible. I want to help him if he needs help settling his affairs. I’m so excited to see him! He has no idea I’m coming.”
“There you go with the cuteness again.” Michelle laughs. “Leave the key in the normal spot.”
“Thanks, Missy!”
Anticipation builds inside of her. She cannot wait to see Ian’s face when he opens his front door and finds her standing there. She wants nothing more than to leap into his arms, kiss him all over, and make love to him repeatedly.
Grace hangs up her phone, slips it into her purse, grabs her suitcase, and rushes out of her door for the airport.
~ ~ ~
Ian has only been home for two days and he has spent those days drowning himself in booze, trying to process everything that has happened. He does not love Emma. If he ever did, what he felt for her died when they moved in together. He knows beyond all doubt that he loves Grace. He wants nothing more than to tell Grace about Emma, to be truthful with her, and to seek her advice, but he does not know how to explain himself without her getting angry or hurting her. Knowing that he has a responsibility to his unborn child, he decides that he will do his best to take care of Emma without tolerating her.
Ian sits at his piano barely playing the chords to Falling from Grace, sipping on a half-empty glass of whiskey, his chest heavy with heartache and longing for Grace.
“You know I hate it when you play that song.” Emma’s hand lands on his shoulder.
Ian’s fingers do not stop moving. “If you’re going to stay at my place, you need to keep to yourself.” He turns and glares in her direction.
Emma opens her mouth to say something, but Ian cuts her off by raising his hand. “I mean it, Emma. I’m only letting you stay here because you’re pregnant, but now I’m regretting that, too. You shouldn’t even be here,” he says, pushing himself up and closing the lid on the piano. “I’ll do the right thing and I’ll help take care of the baby, but we’re over. We were over a long time ago. That means don’t fucking touch me and don’t talk to me about anything but the baby.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
“Can I at least sit on the couch and watch TV?”
Ian swigs down the rest of his drink. Shaking his head, he stares at her, rage building in the pit of his stomach. “Whatever, I’m going to the studio. Make sure you’re out of here when I get home.”
“You’re being a dickhead.”
“I asked you to be out before I got back from Europe, yet I come home and you’re still here. You’re trying to use the fact that you’re pregnant to get back together with me and you think that’s going to work?”
“Seems like a pretty valid reason to me, Ian.”
“I can still be a good dad, if it’s even my kid, and not be with you. How many friends have you called today to see if you can stay with them? Have you called your family?”
“I don’t have anyone and you know that.”
Ian grabs for the bottle of whiskey, unscrews the cap, and slugs back a few gulps. He stares at her while he formulates a plan. He does not want to be an asshole. He wants to do the right thing, but he knows that catering to Emma will only fuel her desire for them to rekindle their romance. A romance he has not felt for months. All he wants is to figure things out with Grace. With a baby on the way, he thinks it is best for Grace to move to Los Angeles, but he knows that is asking a lot of her. He needs Emma out of his space so that he can end his chapter with her and begin his new life with Grace, the woman made for him.
“This arrangement with you staying here is clearly not working. I’ll set you up in an apartment,” he says. “I’ll pay for your doctor bills and whatever costs are associated with the baby. I’ll go with you to your appointments, but that’s it. We’re getting a paternity test. I’ve looked into it. It’s a simple blood test, and if the baby is mine, I’ll be a good father, but that’s it.”
Emma gasps and clutches her lower abdomen. “A blood test?”
“I don’t trust you, Emma. This is the way it’s going to be. If the baby turns out to be mine, then I’ll continue to care for the kid, but that’s the extent of our relationship. Do you understand me?”
“No. I don’t fucking understand you. I don’t understand why you broke up with me right after I moved in with you. I don’t understand why you think we’re over! And I really don’t fucking understand why you would question that this is our baby!”
“I don’t love you anymore. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“Until you come to realize that you do love me, Ian. What we have together is wonderful and romantic and perfect.”
Ian stares at her slack-jawed and not knowing what to say to get through her delusions. “We’re going to look for an apartment for you tomorrow. I’m only going with you because I want to pay for it on the spot and get you moved in as soon as possible. When we find you a place, I’ll hire some movers to get your stuff out of here.”
Emma throws her face into her hands.
Ian does not want to hurt her, but the resentment he bears for her overpowers any decency he can muster up at the moment. “I gotta get the fuck out of here. Pack your things. You’re moving out by the end of the week.”
He screws the cap back on the whiskey bottle and walks to the front door. He can hear Emma behind him. “Why are you following me?” he asks, turning around.
“Please don’t go. Please don’t make me move out.”
“I’m going to pay for your apartment. Why are you a
cting like I’m going to make you live on the streets and suffer?”
“Being without you is suffering.”
“Drop the act. We were miserable before I broke up with you. All we did was fight, every fucking day. You don’t love me and I don’t love you. You’re just scared because you’re pregnant.” He takes her by the shoulders and bends to look into her tear-filled eyes. “Em, stop upsetting yourself. Everything will be okay. We can still be good parents even if we’re not together. You’re going to be so much happier without the drama of our relationship.”
She smacks one of his hands away from her. “You’re an asshole.”
“I don’t want to be an asshole, but I can’t force myself to be in love with you. There’s no button I can push that will make my feelings for you change.” He takes his other hand off her shoulder, and turns to grab his wallet and keys from the table. “Try to look for an apartment you’ll like. I’ll get you into whatever place you like best.”
Emma turns without saying another word, her shoulders slumped and her pace slow.
Ian takes a deep breath and walks out the door.
~ ~ ~
“This is it.” The cab driver says, pulling in front of a high-rise building in Hollywood. Grace leans down to take in the sight of the building and her mouth drops. “Wow.”
“Welcome to Hollywood, the land of the rich and famous,” the driver says, pushing buttons to stop the meter from running. “That’ll be fifty-three dollars and seventy-five cents.”
Grace digs in her wallet for the cash she exchanged at the airport. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks, Miss.”
Her entire body shakes as she grabs the handle to the door and pushes it open. She steps out onto the sidewalk and the noise pollution of traffic buzzes by. The driver slinks around the side of the car and then opens the trunk and pulls out her suitcase. Her stomach does acrobats when she tilts her head back to absorb the immensity of the building. She takes a moment to look up and down the street that she has not seen in years. A smile forms on her face as she imagines how excited Ian will be to see her. Suddenly she needs to find his condominium as soon as possible. “Thank you so much,” she says, taking her small suitcase from the driver. “Have a great day!” she exclaims, as she runs up to the entrance.
The door attendant tips his hat and opens the door as she flies through it. “Thank you,” she calls behind her. Not noticing the extravagance right away, she runs to the elevator. She pulls her cell phone out and looks up Ian’s address for the fourth time since her plane landed in Los Angeles. 1624, she thinks, stepping into the elevator.
The ride up to the sixteenth floor seems to take years. Grace fidgets and taps her foot as she watches the number of each floor light up. “Come on…come on.” The doors open and she steps out, squinting to read the numbers on the sign. The hallway smells like new paint and the carpet looks brand new. She skips a little as she walks down the corridor, reading the apartment numbers etched into chrome plates on the doors.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, she is standing in front of Ian’s door. She breathes into her palm checking for bad breath and shrugs when she smells a slight hint of mint. Leaning her suitcase against the wall, she runs her hands over her shirt and skirt. Her heart pounds so hard inside her chest that her necklace shakes from the vibrations. She fluffs her hair and then knocks on the door.
“Who is it?” asks a rude woman’s voice from behind the door.
“Umm, I’m sorry, is this apartment 1624?” Grace asks, as she blinks and re-reads the number on the apartment door.
The woman opens the door with a whoosh and a glare. “Can I help you?” she asks, scowling at Grace.
Grace watches as her brown eyes scan her. It puzzles Grace that the woman has a hint of recognition in her eyes. “I…I’m sorry. I’m looking for Ian Taylor. Do you know where he lives?” Grace asks, innocently.
“He’s not home.”
Grace is shocked that the woman knows Ian. Who is she? “Oh umm—”
The woman cuts her off. “I know who you are. What I don’t know is why you’re standing at our door.”
Grace takes a step back. I don’t know her! How does she know me?
“What are you doing here, Grace?” she asks, hissing Grace’s name.
Grace’s mouth falls open at the sound of her name coming from the woman’s thin, unkind lips.
“I’m here to see Ian.”
“Let’s get something straight right now. You’re not welcome here. Ian is my boyfriend and has been for the past three years, and we are having a baby together, so you—”
Grace’s loud gasp causes the woman to stop speaking and peer down the hall.
“I…I…I,” Grace fumbles for her words.
“I…I…I,” she mocks her. “Take your bag and your little ass and get the fuck out of my building before I call security.”
Grace is still shocked. She cannot move her feet. Pain surges through her chest and she cannot breathe.
The woman puts her hand on her belly, looks down at it smiling, and then returns her evil gaze to Grace. “B-a-b-y,” she draws out the word while sneering. “We’re having a baby. You need to leave us alone.”
Grace’s whole world drops out from underneath her. She has only felt this way one other time in her life, when she caught Ian cheating on her. Here she is again, in love with him, thinking everything will be perfect between them, and he has once again destroyed her world.
“Do I need to repeat myself? Do I need to call security?”
Grace shakes her head as the tears pour from her eyes. “No. I…I’ll leave,” she says, stuttering.
“Good,” the woman says, before slamming the door in Grace’s face.
Grace walks out of the building and onto the sidewalk. Walking up the street, tears running down her face and her suitcase trailing behind her, she hears traffic zoom by and the sounds of the bustling city around her. She walks until she reaches a bus stop and sits down on the bench, the chill of night air embracing her skin. She drops her suitcase and falls apart.
~ ~ ~
When Ian returns to the condo, he is barely able to walk through the door without tripping over his own feet.
“Ian, is that you?”
Grumbling, he drops his keys and they miss the desk landing on the floor. He bends to pick them up and loses his balance. He topples to the floor and lays there. Rolling onto his back, he puts his hands on his stomach and stares at the dark ceiling.
“What is wrong with you? Are you drunk?”
He hears Emma’s voice, but ignores her. He closes his eyes and replays a memory of kissing Grace’s soft, pink lips.
Emma jabs him in the ribs with the tip of her toe. “Get off the floor and get to bed, Ian. You smell and you’re being obnoxious.”
“Stop!” He shoves her foot away from him. “Did you find an apartment to look at?” he asks, propping himself up.
“I found a few.” She pouts.
“Good. We’ll go first thing in the morning then.”
“Whatever,” Emma says, walking away.
He waits for Emma to go into the spare bedroom before stepping out onto the balcony. The night air is cool against his skin and helps to sober him up just a bit. He pushes the button on his phone that takes him to his favorite contacts and taps on Grace’s face. The phone dials her number and when she does not answer, he tries her again, this time he leaves a message.
“Hey, baby. I umm…just wanted to see how you were. I miss you so freakin’ much. I hope you had a good day. I’ll try you tomorrow. I really need to talk to you.” Ian hears the distress in his voice and notices that he is slurring his words. He knows he is not going to be able to keep what is going on from Grace any longer. Hating keeping secrets from her, he knows that he has to be truthful. He just does not know how to break the news to her.
Walking through the sliding glass doors, back into the living room, he heads for the bar. Grabbing the whiskey bottle, he po
urs half a glass and slugs it back. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath. He lets it out and then fills his glass again. Before heading back out to the balcony for some fresh air, he grabs a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the coffee table. He recalls Grace’s words. “Ian, you really need to stop smoking. I want you around forever.” He sits on the patio chair, lights a cigarette, needing it to sooth his nerves, and he dials Grace’s number again.
~ ~ ~
Grace is still sitting on the bench sobbing when Ian’s face pops up on her phone for the tenth time. Only staring at his photo and the words My Love, she cannot bring herself to answer. She cannot speak through her sobs and does not even know what she would say.
It is past midnight and Grace silently sits at the bus stop. She is at a loss of where to go. She could just book herself into a hotel, but she needs more than that right now. She needs a friend. She needs a comforting environment. There is only one person she knows in Los Angeles who can provide her with what she truly needs. It does not matter how angry she is with him or how many lies he has told. She desires the comfort of her old home and her dearest friend.
With trembling hands, Grace searches the internet for the phone number of a cab company. Her eyes cloud with all the tears she has shed and her mind is lost to paranoia. Ian’s girlfriend’s words keep playing in her mind. We’re having a baby. Ian played her for a fool. Everything he told her in Paris was a lie.
It can’t be, she thinks, as she rests her hand that holds the phone on her thigh. “He loves me,” she cries aloud. Using the sleeve of her coat, she wipes her tears away and tries to read her phone’s screen.
“Hey, baby, you need some help?” asks a young man.
The voice startles Grace and she jumps.
“Ahh, sweet lady, no need to be afraid of me,” he says, as he steps forward. “What can I do to help you? Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”
Grace shakes her head and clutches her cell phone in her hand.
The Falling of Grace (The Falling Series Book 2) Page 11