by Kat T. Masen
If Dad and Mom forgave Aunt Adriana, then eventually Millie will forgive me. But for now, I agree with him—she needs time. And so that’s what I will give her.
Letting out a yawn, I stretch my arms in the air. “I’m going to head to bed, it’s been a long day, and I’m still on East Coast time.”
“Of course, get some rest, Ava.”
As I stand up to leave his office, I stop to say one more thing. “I’m sorry if I disappointed you, Dad.”
His gaze falls upon me, and even though this is not what he wanted for me, his soft expression reassures me that I have his support.
“Ava, I love you. Nothing will ever change that. Now get some rest, please.”
I head up to my room, shower, dress in my pajamas, and climb into my bed. There’s a gentle tap on the door the moment I get comfortable.
“Come in.”
Mom enters the room, carrying a grilled cheese sandwich and a glass of milk.
“Under different circumstances, I would have come up with vodka.”
The corners of my mouth curve upward into a smile as she places the items on the nightstand beside me.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“I noticed you didn’t eat much at dinner,” she tells me honestly. “Have you been experiencing much morning sickness?”
I shake my head. “I think it’s been more stress-induced nausea.”
“With all four of you, the first trimester was terrible. I had morning sickness all day long.”
My hands move behind me to adjust the pillows so I can sit upright and eat. Then, not wanting to get crumbs on the blanket, I move it off me. I’m about to reach for the glass of milk, but instead, I lift my top so Mom can see, followed by pulling the photo up on my phone from the ultrasound.
“Here’s my baby, Mom.”
Mom’s eyes glass over with a smile gracing her entire face, then slowly, she reaches out. “May I?”
I nod, allowing Mom to place her hands on my stomach.
“I can’t believe my baby has a baby inside of her.”
There is another knock on the door, but without even getting a word out, Addy and Alexa come in. The two of them lay on the other side of me, and just like Mom, they place their hands on my belly.
As we all laugh softly, Dad walks past. He stops at the door, surprised to see us all in bed together.
“I think this baby will be so loved,” he mentions with a smile, then sits beside Mom.
As I look at my family and relish at this moment, I can’t ignore the heaviness inside my chest from the one person missing.
It’s not the same without Millie, but just like Will said, I’ve torn his wife apart.
It wasn’t just about Austin, but because she’s trying her damn hardest to fall pregnant, and it happened to me on a one-night stand.
And only a few minutes away in their own home, I know my sister is crying herself to sleep.
The thought alone pains me, but nothing I can say or do right now will change how she feels.
I’m the evil sister who just ruined her life.
Thirteen
Amelia
“I’m pregnant.”
Ava drops her head, refusing to look at anyone, then focuses on the empty plate in front of her. The words hit like dynamite, every part of me exploding into tiny pieces, shattering beyond repair.
This doesn’t make sense. How can she be pregnant? It must be a joke, a sick twisted joke she’s playing on the family.
But her silence speaks a thousand words.
Beside her, Addy leans in with a thoughtful expression, her brows pulling down in concentration. Did Addy know this and not tell me? Like I’d been purposely kept in the dark.
A sharp pain runs across my chest as I begin to grow hot, trying to fight my emotions.
“Pregnant?” I choke, unable to swallow the lump inside my throat, stopping my ability to breathe at a normal pace. “But you aren’t with anyone?”
I rack my brain to replay all our recent conversations. We often spoke daily, at least via text. But the last few months, we communicated less. Ava often used the excuse of being busy with her work, or she kept her responses closed. So, I narrowed it down to the stress of her breakup with Olivier, or maybe a quarter-life crisis.
Olivier—it must be his baby.
But then I recall her mentioning she hadn’t slept with him for months, not before the night she found him in bed with another man.
The only thing which stands out is the Aussie guy. Maybe she lied and slept with him.
But the lie isn’t what’s bothering me. It’s the fact she fell pregnant.
The one thing I am unable to do.
“Congratulations,” Alexa blurts out, overly cheery. A slight growl escapes my throat at my younger sister’s disregard for my feelings, like she’s taking Ava’s side. “I thought you looked different.”
Still in shock, my gaze shifts toward my father. His silence is deafening. As someone who has fallen under his wrath, I know first-hand just how intimidating he can be. But, I’ve done my time, and Ava is an adult who has clearly made a poor decision and now must face the consequences.
“Who is the father?” Dad grits, barely able to open his mouth to speak.
“Um, this guy. It was one night, but I’ve known him forever, so it’s not like he’s a stranger and…”
One night.
That’s all it took.
Meanwhile, I’ve been fucking my husband in certain positions while using ovulation kits and tracking my basal temperature. I’ve even watched my diet, consuming certain foods to better increase fertility. This has been going on for months, and for what? To see one blue line greet me every month with the ever-so-gut-wrenching ‘negative’ in the small window.
Mom clears her throat. “This is a surprise, but you have our support. How far along are you, honey?”
Beneath the table, Will places his hand on my thigh and rubs it softly. I can’t look at him, the overwhelming feeling of being a failure consumes me.
“Four months…” Ava murmurs, only to fall into a pensive silence.
Slowly, her gaze lifts and fixates on me. I watch her, thinking back to four months ago. December? January? Ava’s gaze doesn’t falter. Her emerald eyes are distressed as her chin quivers. So, what, she fucked someone around the holidays?
Christmas? Or New Year’s Eve?
Then, our video call flashes before my eyes like a bolt of lightning. My hand is resting on the table, yet it begins to shake unwillingly.
The phone call with Austin.
Austin.
Austin.
The name repeats like a broken record inside my head.
And the remorseful expression of my sister across the table confirms my suspicion. She’s not looking at Mom or my father.
She’s staring right at me.
My lips pull back, baring my teeth as my heart beats uncontrollably like the sound of a loud drum. The hand that rests on the table clenches into a tight fist as my entire core is consumed with animosity. Finally, I stand up, and the words I sputter are hurtful and the truth. She lied, hid everything from me, and to top it off, she slept with my ex-fiancé.
Throwing my napkin on the table in a fit of rage, I storm out to the yard for fresh air. Alone, with my anger intensifying as the minutes pass, I question how she could do such a thing? Okay, fine, Austin is a guy, though a dick for doing this to seek revenge on me. It’s been two fucking years. Surely, he has moved on and has better things to do with his life.
As for Ava, I wish she wasn’t born.
Behind me, the door makes a creaking sound. I don’t turn around, sensing Will beside me. He doesn’t say a word, assuming he is trying to process this. Over the years, he has never hidden the fact that my engagement to Austin tore him apart. And now what? Is Austin my brother-in-law?
“Did you know they had slept together?” Will questions in an arctic voice.
My head swivels slowly to glance at him. “You think this is m
y fault?”
“I never said that, Amelia.”
“No, I didn’t know they slept together, okay?” I declare with anger lacing my tone. “I knew they were together on New Year’s Eve. She lied and told me she ran into him.”
Will’s eyes blaze as the muscles on his face tighten. I’ve seen this expression many times before. Jealousy is something he has long battled with, and once again—his stubborn self can’t see the truth. “You never told me this.”
“I didn’t say anything because it wasn’t worth the argument, Will. Every time someone raises Austin’s name, you have a very strong opinion, and that somehow becomes all my fault.”
“Do you blame me?” he shouts, then drops his gaze. “You were going to fucking marry him!”
“Oh, so all of this is my fault? Ava sleeping with Austin is my fault? Her falling pregnant is my fault? And me not falling pregnant is my fault?” I sputter, the resentment running through my veins like deadly poison.
“Stop twisting my words,” Will demands with a hard edge to his voice. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t need to. Your body language said it all.” My glance shifts toward the evening sky. It’s pink and beautiful, but it might as well be pitch black. “I want to go home.”
I turn around to head back to the house. Inside the kitchen, Alexa is handing Ashton a piece of chocolate. My lips press together as I cross my arms in annoyance.
“Alexa, he didn’t finish his dinner,” I almost bark.
“Sorry.” She retreats with a shrug of the shoulders. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
I grab his hand, allowing him to have the chocolate and praying he doesn’t burst into a sugar rush later. Addy and Alexa quickly glance at each other, but I turn away, not wanting to converse with either of them.
Ashton doesn’t say a word or ask why we’re leaving, too busy devouring the sugary treat. So when we get to the car, I work in silence while buckling him into the car seat.
Will is standing at the driver’s side when I realize we left Ashton’s backpack inside.
“His bag is still inside,” I mumble, unable to look at him.
“I’ll go get it.”
Sitting inside the car in the passenger seat, my head falls back against the headrest while I close my eyes to stop the impending headache. The moment I take a deep breath, Ashton calls out, “Momma, why are we leaving Grandpapa’s house?”
“Dinner is finished, baby. That’s why you got chocolate.”
“But I don’t want to go.” I hear the tremble in his voice, and just when my patience begins to wear thin because all I want to do is be alone, Will enters the car and distracts Ashton with a story about dinosaurs.
The drive back home is short, less than ten minutes, but it feels like an eternity. When we arrive home, I change Ashton into his favorite pajamas and clean the chocolate off his face. His night routine is followed by brushing his little teeth.
Tucking him in, I kiss his forehead when Will follows, ready to read him a story.
Usually, I stick around, but I desperately want to be alone.
I head to the bathroom, and the first thing I do is pull out the draw with the ovulation and pregnancy tests. Throwing them in the trash, I’m tired of being stuck in this vicious cycle of infertility.
Without a second thought, I take the trash outside then strip my clothes to take a hot shower, hoping to relax my tense muscles.
The shower proves to be problematic—my mind refusing to shut the fuck up.
Is Ava still fucking Austin? Are they going to get married?
Frustrated with my thoughts, I hop out of the shower, dry myself off, and place my old Yale tee and robe on.
When I step inside our bedroom, I stare at the bed. Sleep is the last thing on my mind. I head back to the kitchen, assuming Will is in his office avoiding me after our fight.
With a bottle of red wine, I take a glass and go outside to the pool area and sit on one of the cabana chairs. We have an amazing view of downtown LA, so I pour myself a tall glass to admire it, drinking the wine in one sitting and unapologetic for doing this alone.
After my second glass, my limbs begin to relax. But my moment of solitude ends when Will sits on the chair beside me. He reaches out for the bottle, and instead of using a glass, he drinks straight from it.
“Amelia, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. This blame is uncalled for.”
I stare up at the stars trying not to cry. Will can’t possibly understand the guilt I carry for miscarrying the first time, to now being the problem. It’s my body doing this, and I’m supposed to be young and fertile.
He will never feel the same guilt I do.
After all, he’s just a man.
“I’m going to bed,” I tell him, avoiding his gaze.
“Amelia, please look at me?”
Slowly, my eyes shift toward him, but I stare with a cold stance because I am not worthy inside.
“Those things I said earlier—”
I drop my eyes again to cut him off. “I’m tired.”
And without another word, I walk away toward the house and to our bedroom.
Inside our bed, I sleep on my side, right at the very edge. Will never comes to our room, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I cry myself to sleep.
My eyes fall heavy like a lead weight.
Barely able to open them, I glance at the clock. It’s just after eight, which is late for Ashton to wake up.
Panicked, I sit up, my head spinning, forcing me to shut my eyes for a second to stop the dizzy spell. Beside me, my phone buzzes with a text message from Will.
Will: I took Ashton to Adriana’s. They’re going to the beach today. I’ll be in the office if you need me.
Releasing a breath, my shoulders relax, knowing Ashton is safe. My fingers go to type a message back, but instead, I hit delete.
On my screen are several notifications of text messages received overnight. I don’t have the energy for this, lazily opening each message.
Mom: Amelia, call me when you’re ready to talk, please. I love you xx
Addy: I’m not on anyone’s side. I’m Switzerland, always have been. Here if you need me.
Alexa: OMG, Millie! I couldn’t say it last night but WTF?
Andy: Millie, I heard what happened last night. I know you’re hurting, but Ava is hurting just as much. Anyways, I miss you, cuz.
So now Andy knows? The anger returns, though this time—I’m too exhausted to react, unable to move my body at all. But, I need coffee.
Slowly, I get out of bed and contemplate a shower, but my entire being is screaming for caffeine.
With my robe on, I walk barefoot to the kitchen. My movements are slow, from the pod being placed in the machine to retrieving a mug with a loud yawn escaping me.
I watch the brown liquid spurt, the smell intoxicating and awakening my senses.
There is a soft knock on the door. I pray it isn’t Ava, as I can’t stand the thought of seeing her right now. Dad is standing outside, dressed in a white polo shirt and khaki shorts.
“Oh, hey, Dad,” I say, surprised to see him. “Will went to the office if you’re after him.”
Dad closes the door behind him as I go to retrieve my mug, which is now full of coffee.
“Actually, I came to see you,” he mentions softly.
My hands wrap around the mug, my lips purse to softly blow the steam so I can take a sip. After my first glorious taste, I take a deep breath.
“I don’t want to talk about last night.”
“You can’t run away forever, Amelia.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing? Running away?”
“You’re upset, and I understand why.”
I vigorously shake my head, then tuck in my upper lip. “It’s all my fault, right? Ava is so perfect. She can do no wrong in your eyes. Never could.”
Dad masters a poker face, a trait he always says helps him in the boardroom. But as I briefly glance
at him, his furrowed brows and the lowered head is anything but a poker face. My comment hurt but doesn’t make it less true.
“Amelia, none of this is easy for me. You think I like the fact that my daughter had a one-night stand and is pregnant?” he questions, with a struggle in his voice. “I feel like I failed as a parent. The same when your relationship with Will first came to light, but this baby isn’t to feel less loved because the situation doesn’t fit the perfect scenario in my head.”
I forgot, there’s a baby.
“I’m not asking you for anything, Amelia. Your sister has her own cross to bear. Both of you are my daughters, and both of you have done things you’re not proud of. That doesn’t make me love you any less.”
“Dad,” I croak, then wipe away the lonesome tear which escapes. “I can’t do this right now.”
“I know,” he assures me, then places his hand on my cheek. “In ways, you are much like me, although your mother will argue that in a heartbeat.”
“Tell Mom I will call her. I just need time.”
He nods, then kisses my forehead before letting himself out.
My chest rises, sucking in a breath, to let it all out moments later. Then, with my coffee finished, I head upstairs to take a shower. As I turn on the faucet, my phone pings again.
Will: I don’t want to lose you.
The words constrict my lungs, making it hard even to take the smallest of breaths. I never want to hurt Will, and that’s exactly what I am doing—pushing away because of my insecurities.
I don’t linger in the shower, quickly washing then changing into the first dress my hands reach out for. It’s a white backless dress with spaghetti straps and a patchwork design. My hair is wet, but I leave it out to wait for the warm air to dry it naturally.
Outside, the sound of an engine catches my attention.
With my sandals on, I walk downstairs to an empty foyer. Then, slowly, my feet move toward Will’s office. I choose not to knock but push the door open slowly.