Love Crushed

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Love Crushed Page 12

by Toshia Slade


  Gabby giggles.

  “It’s true, Josh. Sometimes you act your age, but for the most part, you act like an old man who only cares about work and money.”

  My sister would think that, but only because we sheltered her from the blow of Dad losing his job. She was too young to go out and get a job, and she never knew how bad it got there for a while.

  “Yeah, well, I changed all that to prove to her that nothing mattered as much as she did. I turned down a killer job to take her to Tennessee, and I spent a lot of time planning fun things I knew she loved. I thought for sure her attitude about us had changed. I could have sworn that everything shifted between us at that cabin. Not one word, though. Not once did she say she wanted to be with me, that she was finally over being scared and ready to dive into a relationship.”

  “Oh, Josh. You love her, don’t you?” Her eyes shine with tears and sympathy.

  My heart pitches and beats wildly in my chest. I’ve never admitted it out loud, but what’s the point in hiding it?

  “Yeah, I do. I have for a long time, just waited until the time was right to make my move. I had been struggling more and more, but then Halloween night—” I shake my head, remembering how hard it was to restrain myself. “She laid her cards out for me, and I got my first glimpse that she wanted more than she let on.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose, and a headache starts to pound at my temples. This girl is going to be the death of me.

  “So I need to know what’s going on with her. I need to know what I’m up against and what I have to do to finally make her mine. I’m going crazy without her, Gabs. I didn’t have much of her before, but it was something. These past three weeks have been hell.”

  “I hate to tell you this, but you’re going to have to wait a while. If Tiffany was hesitant about a relationship before, she’s really going to be now. Her dad cheated on her mom with a girl our age, and let’s just say she has quite the reputation.”

  Rage builds inside of me. Another asshole to add to my list of asses to kick. How could he do that to them?

  “She’s not okay, is she?” I knew from last night that she was broken, but I never imagined her dad was the one who hurt her. I’m blessed with two amazing parents, and I couldn’t imagine how I would feel if my dad ever cheated on my mom.

  “No, she’s pretty messed up, and I think it’s hard on her watching her mom fall apart. She said she didn’t know what to do. We’re supposed to have a girls’ day soon, and I’ll find out more, but I’m afraid that right now, you would be fighting a losing battle.” She gets up and comes around the table, wrapping her arms around me, and I return her hug. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’ll figure something out. I can’t leave her alone in this.” My determination kicks in. No way am I letting my woman deal with this on her own.

  “Honestly? I think she has enough on her plate without worrying about a relationship. Give her some time.” She kisses my cheek before walking out the kitchen and down the hall.

  I don’t reply because no matter what I say, Gabby will never understand my burning need to protect Tiffany, and it kills me to know she’s hurting and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Because she won’t let me in, let me be her rock or comfort. I need to figure something out, and fast, because no matter what she says, she needs me, and dammit, I’m going to be there.

  This time I’m not going to give up. I’ll keep fighting and do whatever’s necessary to show her I’m not going anywhere. No more pussying out when I get frustrated. I need to show my girl I’m here to stay, and that she’s it for me. No one else could ever do what she does for me—complete me.

  Sixteen

  *Tiffany*

  I’m dying. For a solid week, I’ve been throwing up and having vicious bouts of nausea. I’ll get sick and feel better, but then the nausea hits again and I’m back in bed. Food? I would almost kill for it, but the sight, smell, and even the thought of it makes me dart to the bathroom. At first I thought it was just stress. I’ve heard horror stories about what stress can do to a college student during finals week or when someone’s pushing to meet a deadline for work. This isn’t that, though. I have a full-blown stomach bug or the flu, and I wish someone would shoot me.

  Dry toast is the only thing I’ve been able to keep down. My body is growing weak, and all I want to do is sleep. God love Gabby, but she will not stop calling. I’ve talked to her a few times to let her know I’m still alive but very much want to die. I’ve kept her away so she won’t catch whatever this is. Mom’s been following me around with a can of Lysol and a tub of Clorox wipes.

  My phone blares through the room for the third time today, and I know if I don’t answer, she’ll continue to call.

  “Gabby, I love you, but if you don’t stop calling, I’m going to kill you. I’m still alive, and if anything happens, I promise I’ll have Mom call you.”

  “Well, aren’t we just Miss Sunshine today?”

  “I’ve not had anything to eat in almost seven days, and I think if I throw up one more time, my throat is going to have permanent damage.”

  “Ewww, serious TMI, Tiff.”

  “Just sayin’.” I try to laugh but groan instead.

  “Why don’t you let me come get you and take you to the doctor?”

  “Mom’s already beat you to it. She called the doctor’s office and got me in. I go at three today.”

  “Okay. Why don’t you have your mom drop you off here when you’re done? Let your mom have a break, and let me take care of you. Cam and I are heading back to the apartment today. We can’t take being in the same house as my brother, if you know what I mean.”

  “Now who’s giving TMI? And that’s exactly why I’ll come back here. I don’t need to hear you two getting it on like jackrabbits across the hall. Besides, I don’t want to pass this to y’all. Mom has already been exposed.”

  “Ugh! Fine, but hurry up and get your ass better and back home. I miss you. When you get home, we’ll spend a whole day vegged out on the couch watching movies.”

  “That sounds wonderful. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Miss you too, biotch. Now I have to get off here and at least take a shower before I go to the doctor. Love you.”

  “Love you, too, hooker. Let me know what the doctor says.”

  ***

  “You need to be sure to take one daily with a glass of water, and I’ve written you a prescription for Phenergan to help with the nausea. You’ll also need to call an obstetrician and get an appointment as soon as possible.”

  She goes on and on about the importance of drinking plenty of fluids to stay hydrated and gives me a list of drinks to try. I feel completely numb and more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life. How did this happen? Who knew going to the doctor would turn my whole world upside down again?

  Pregnant. The word echoes in my head.

  How do you get pregnant when you always use a condom? Oh, God! What’s Josh going to say? He’s going to think I got pregnant on purpose. God knows this isn’t going to match his perfectly structured life plan. Marriage is supposed to come before babies. I’ve not even graduated college yet, and I’m going to be a mom.

  A mom. How the hell am I supposed to be a mom when I can’t even pick a college major and when the thought of commitment sends me running for the hills?

  There’s always adoption or abortion.

  The thought of killing my baby has acid burning my throat. I run to the trash can, dry heaving, as there’s nothing in my stomach to empty.

  Whether I’m ready or not, I have no choice but to have this kid and raise it. Hopefully, with the help of its dad. But how am I going to tell him?

  That thought sends another wave of dry heaves racking my body. My shitty, complicated life just became a whole lot messier.

  *Josh*

  Leaving the hardware store after picking up some supplies for the job site, I freeze when someone calls my name.

  “Josh, is that you?”

  I would know th
at voice anywhere, and dread floods my veins. I roll my eyes and puff out a breath, knowing I can’t be rude and walk away as if I didn’t hear her. Spinning around, I paste a fake smile on my lips.

  “Hey, Cassidy. What’s up?”

  I scan her body and ask myself for the millionth time why I ever got involved with this girl. Everything about her screams fake, from the bottle-blond hair to the size-D tits her daddy paid for as a birthday present. They’re barely concealed in a sweater stretched so tight that it’s see-through.

  “Gosh, it’s been forever. How are you?”

  Not nearly long enough, if you ask me. This girl is crazy with a capital C, and she’s looking for a man to spoil her and hand her everything on a silver platter, like her daddy’s done her whole life. The girl’s twenty-four and never worked a day in her life, unless you call lifting and carrying shopping bags work.

  She filled some lonely nights for me, but she wasn’t even good at that. I should feel bad about the way I used her, but a girl can only offer herself so long before a man gives in and uses her for a warm body.

  “I’m good, just picking up some supplies for the job.” I hold up my bags.

  “Do you have time to grab dinner to catch up? I’ve missed you.” She runs her finger up my arm, and I flinch.

  “Nah, I’ve gotta run and drop these at the job site for the boys in the morning.” That’s a lie. I don’t have to have them there until in the morning when I go in. I start to back away. “It was good seeing you.” Not. “Take care.”

  “Wait.” She walks after me.

  Shit. I don’t want to talk to her any more than I already have, but I stop because I don’t want her following me to my truck.

  “Why don’t you give me a call when you get some free time? You know, for old times’ sake.” She licks her lips and then pulls her finger into her mouth and bites down.

  Not a chance in hell.

  “That’s not going to work.” Shit. Think of something. “I’m seeing someone. Officially off the market, but thanks for the offer.” It’s not entirely a lie. She may not know it, and she hasn’t accepted it yet, but it’s going to happen sooner or later.

  Cassidy pouts. “She doesn’t have to know. It can be our little secret.” She giggles, and the sound is like nails on a chalkboard down my spine.

  “I’m not that type of man, Cassidy.” Even if it wasn’t for Tiffany, I wouldn’t go there again. I slept with her twice—wham, bam, thank ya, ma’am—pushing her out of my house the next morning. She got clingy fast, showing up every time I went out, hanging all over me like we were together. I put an end to that shit real quick and got the fuck outta Dodge.

  “Fine. Well, if things don’t work out, you know how to find me.” She leans in and tries to kiss my cheek, but I sidestep easily, dodging her lips.

  “See ya.” I turn and get the hell out of there and pray like hell that it’s the last time I see her. The girl isn’t right in the head, and my shame burns deep for ever messing with someone like that.

  As I’m climbing into my truck, a head full of shiny blond hair catches my eye, and I buzz to life. It’s as if my body recognizes her before I do. Slamming the door and locking the truck, I jog through the lot to catch up to her.

  Her head’s bent low, and she’s slouching. Gabby told me she’s been sick with some kind of virus.

  “Tiffany.” I call out to stop her before she goes into the drugstore next door.

  Her head jerks up, eyes round like a deer in the headlights. That look is like a punch to the gut, and my stomach twists painfully as air leaves my lungs. She’s really sick, and her face is pale—too pale. Dark circles under her eyes mar her beautiful face, and if I’m not mistaken, she’s lost weight.

  “What are you doing here?” She looks around as if she’s looking for something. She’s looking everywhere but at me and then starts walking toward the store again.

  “Had to pick some stuff up for a job. Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Just sick and not feeling good. I came here to pick up some medicine, then I’m heading back to Mom’s.” She turns to face me as she reaches the door. “Now, I want to get this stuff and get back home.”

  Something’s off. She's not telling me everything. Or it could be the situation with her parents. I want so bad to talk to her about it and comfort her. But I can’t. I promised Gabby I wouldn’t say anything, and I really want Tiffany to tell me herself, to trust me enough to let me in. I follow her into the store.

  “So you’ve been to the doctor? Gabby told me you’ve been sick for a week.”

  “Yes, Josh, I went to the doctor. Don’t you have to get to work or have something to do?” She walks to the pharmacy counter and drops off her prescription, giving them her date of birth.

  “What did they say? I’ve never seen you look so… miserable.” Dammit. Way to go, Josh.

  “Wow! Thanks for telling me I look like shit.” She grabs a cart and turns to glare at me, but it’s not her normal I-hate-you look. It’s half-assed, and I can see how tired and worn down she is.

  “That’s not what I meant. You’ll always be beautiful to me. I’m just saying I can tell you don’t feel good.”

  “Again, thanks for telling me I look like shit. Now, can you go so I can finish up here?”

  “What did the doctor say?” My arms and chest burn with the need to pull her to me and hold her tight. I would give anything to take the sickness away and make her feel better.

  “Take the meds, drink fluid, and get plenty of rest. The same thing doctors say all the time. If you’ll leave me be, I can do that after I buy the stuff I need and get home.”

  “Why don’t you let me drive you, and I’ll get Cam to help me get your car later?” I don’t want her to drive herself feeling like this, and it would give me more time to be with her.

  Lovesick fool. I’m not afraid to admit it. Tiffany brings out the best and worst in me. She’s the one woman who could bring me to my knees and make me beg for any scrap she’s willing to throw my way.

  “I’m not driving. Mom took me to the doctor. Thanks, though.”

  Damn, she’s grumpy when she doesn’t feel good. I stand, not moving, brows pinched. I’m trying to come up with anything to stall our conversation and make it last longer.

  She doesn’t feel good, asshole. Let her go and get better, then you can move in and try to fix this fucked-up situation y’all are in.

  “Josh, seriously, go. I’m fine. I’m not dying. Mom’s taking good care of me, and I feel like crap, so I don’t feel like dealing with you right now,” she growls and then slumps with exhaustion. “Will you please go so I can get my stuff done?”

  I flinch, and pain slices through my chest. Now I’m something she has to deal with? Think about it, man. She’s not feeling good, and you’re hounding her like a damn love-struck puppy.

  “Okay, I’ll go.” I lean in to kiss her forehead, and she stills. That hurts, too. “Call if you need anything.” She nods. “I mean it.”

  “All right.”

  “Bye, Kitten. Take care of yourself and get better.”

  “Bye, Josh.” She rushes down an aisle and never glances back in my direction.

  Well, that went great.

  *Tiffany*

  I peek around the corner of the shelf to make sure he’s really gone. When I don’t see him anywhere, I sag against the shelves in relief. My pulse starts to slow, and it no longer feels as if the Kentucky Derby is taking place inside my heart. Jeezus, just my freakin’ luck.

  I feel so bad about lying to him, but what was I supposed to do? Blurt it out? The doctor says I’m perfectly healthy, just growing a baby inside me. A baby that we made. Yeah, I’m not sure how that happened either since we used condoms, but surprise! I’m pregnant with your baby. I’m sure that would have gone over real well. I’ve not had time to wrap my own head around it, and I want to have all the facts and information before I go to him.

  Feeling numb, I mindlessly walk around the store loading ite
ms into the cart—Gatorade, ginger ale, saltine crackers—and stop in front of the vitamin section to pick up the prenatal ones I need.

  Great, what kind of mom am I that I can’t even select a prenatal vitamin? Who knew there were so many different brands with different stuff in them? Gummies? Um, no.

  “Need some help?”

  I startle, almost dropping the boxes in my hands, then glance over at the sweet older lady.

  “Yes. I have no clue which one to get. Is one better than the other?”

  “I would go with this one.” She picks one up off the shelf. “It has the DHA in it and other things to help with healthy development.”

  “Tiffany Johnson.”

  “That’s me. Thank you so much for the help.” My face flames with shame. What must she think of me? Stupid young girl. Got herself knocked up and can’t even select a vitamin.

  I would like to know what I ever did to deserve all this. I must have been a horrible person in a past life. It’s like God’s saying, “Here, you don’t have enough on your plate already. I’m going to add this, too.”

  Quickly paying for my purchases, I get out of there before someone else thinks I’m a dumb fool and pities my unborn child for being cursed with a nitwit for a mother.

  I promised Gabby I would call her and tell her what happened at the doctor, but I can’t bear to hear her voice right now. That’s the last thing I need, breaking down and telling her everything. No, Josh deserves to know before anyone else. Well, besides my mom, since she was there when the doctor delivered the good news.

  Once Mom and I get everything loaded and are back in the car, I decide to text Gabby. It’ll have to do, because I can’t chance telling her, and right now, it’s a very good possibility.

  Tiffany: Caught a bug. It’s contagious. I’m on meds for 2 weeks & mom’s babying me, so it’ll be a bit before I’m home. :( I’ll call soon. XO

 

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