More Than Memories: A Second Chance Standalone Romance

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More Than Memories: A Second Chance Standalone Romance Page 10

by N. E. Henderson


  Bile threatens to come up.

  I have to know. I have to hear her say it.

  Without waiting any longer, I punch in the 4-digit code Shane told me in the car last night. Just twenty-four hours ago everything I thought I knew crashed.

  She answers on the third ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Mother.” I bite out.

  “Whitney? Where are you? Blake is worried sick.” There’s a scold in her tone.

  “Oh, he should be,” I can’t help but say.

  “Don’t use that tone with me? What has that boy done to you? Has he ruined the daughter I got back?”

  “That boy is a man, Mother. That boy is Everly’s father.”

  “Blake’s been her father since the day you found out you were pregnant with her. You should be grateful he stepped up like he did.”

  She doesn’t deny it. Holy fuck. She doesn’t dispute it at all. Was a part of me hoping she would? My heart plummets. My parents really did do this to me.

  “Why did you do this?” The whisper falls from my lips. “Why did you take him away from me? Away from Everly?” My chest cracks and I have to rub the pain with my free hand.

  “Whitney.” She says my name in that peevish voice. “It’s time for you to stop acting like a petulant child and be the adult you were before that boy showed back up. It’s time for you to come home to your husband and bring his children home.”

  “Tell me why, dammit.” My anger builds.

  “I’m not entertaining the way you’re speaking to me, Whitney. When you come to your senses, you’ll forget all of this and remember the life Blake has provided for you and those girls. His girls.”

  “Everly isn’t his, Mother.”

  “DNA doesn’t change the facts.”

  “DNA is the facts. Why-how-I . . .” She doesn’t care that she’s caused damage to so many people. My daughter. My little girl doesn’t know her father isn’t really her father. And Shane. Fuck. This is . . . I don’t even know what this is.

  When I realize she hasn’t spoken in over a minute, I pull the phone away from my face. The call has ended. She hung up on me.

  That bitch.

  Anger creeps in further inside me. My hand squeezes the cell phone so tight it burns my palm.

  Someone is going to pay for this. And I’m not talking money. I want someone to bleed.

  A phone rings, the vibration making it dance from where it sits on the coffee table in Shawn’s living room. Shane picks it up, then stands as he eyes the device like he doesn’t recognize the number.

  “Hel—” He doesn’t finish his greeting. The shouts on the other end of the line can be heard from where I’m sitting at the other end of the couch. My head quickly whips toward Shane.

  “Put my goddamn wife on the phone,” he demands. Blake. My hus . . .

  Hell, now even I don’t like that word coming out of my mouth. The thought makes my stomach roll. The sick betrayal is so fresh.

  My mom didn’t even try to deny any of it. It’s only been half an hour since I spoke to her. That tells me, without a doubt, she’s the one that gave Blake his phone number.

  I don’t want to speak to him . . . ever, let alone right now. I haven’t grasped everything. How could they? How could he go along with it? I get Shane said he had a thing for me in high school and my parents thought we should be together, but to do this? And not just to me. What they’ve done to my daughter. To Shane. Hell, to his family. I just don’t get it. I have no words for any of this.

  No! You know what, I do have words. The only reason I stayed with that man was because of Everly. And then the surprise we got when I became pregnant with Emersyn. I didn’t leave because of my girls. I thought they needed both parents. I wanted them to have both of us. Even through all the shit—all of Blake’s shit—I was never attracted to him, but even then I never wanted my kids to have part-time parents. I never wanted to be away from them, ever. I would have rather dealt with my asshole husband every day than miss any time with my children.

  But now? Now I wish I had left and taken my girls away. I wish . . . I don’t know what I wish. I wasn’t given a choice. I wasn’t told the truth. I was betrayed, lied to, tricked. Shane’s voice breaks my thoughts.

  “I don’t think so, asshole. You’ll never—”

  “MY WIFE!” Blake screams. “She’s mine.” Shane’s eyes flare as he tightens his grip on the phone.

  Jumping off the soft, microfiber couch cushion, I rush to him. I don’t know why I do it, but something tells me his strength is slipping. He’s been strong since last night. He only had one moment of weakness when he saw Everly for the first time and realized she was his daughter. She looks so much like him. The same hair. The same eyes. Those eyes. How did I not recognize them the moment I met him at Dr. Forsythe’s house? I don’t know how Shane is keeping it together.

  Hell, I don’t know how I have kept it together, then again, I’ve always disconnected from most emotions. I learned early on in my marriage that’s what I had to do in order not to lash out.

  “No the hell she isn’t,” Shane bites out.

  “Let me have the phone,” I plead, calmer than what I’m feeling below the surface of my skin. I hold my hand out in front of him, waiting for him to hand it over. He pushes it away with his free one. “Shane.”

  “She was never yours!” There’s so much anger behind his words. If Blake was here, I’m not sure what he’d do to him. I don’t sense he’s a fighter—not in the physical sense—but the way his eyes burn right now, I think he could kill him given the chance.

  “Yes.” I continue. “Shane, let me talk to him.” He shakes his head, making me grit my teeth. I’m sick of everyone not doing what I ask. Blake. My parents. His parents. Now Shane? No!

  Whatever Blake says I don’t catch. It was loud, but the phone is too muffled by Shane’s hand covering it so tight.

  “He’s my husband,” I bark, instantly feeling like shit for saying that word. Shane’s anger morphs into pain as his beautiful eyes fall on me. Shit. He’s looking at me like I’m the one that’s betrayed him. “Please. Just give me the phone,” I plead, using a softer tone, ignoring the hurt I’ve caused him by that one word.

  He stares. He stares for a long minute before relinquishing it. After he drops it into my hands, he turns away, walking out of the room.

  His brother looks from me, then to where Shane left. A door slams seconds later, telling me he went out onto the back patio. Shawn looks back my way, his dark eyes telling me he’s not happy I upset his brother. Frankly, I don’t care what Shawn thinks of me, however, I do care what Shane thinks, and I do care that I have hurt him. The pit of my stomach aches from the pain I’m causing him. Other than my girls, I’ve never cared so deeply for another person’s pain.

  A second later, Shawn turns, leaving in the same direction as his brother. When the back door closes, louder than before, I drop my eyes to my palm.

  Silence.

  He must have heard me ask for the phone and now he’s waiting for me to speak. Well, why should I keep him? I’ve held back for ten years. I think it’s time I give as well as I’ve gotten.

  “You sick, sack of shi—” He cuts me off.

  “Don’t you dare use that tone with me, Whitney.” His words only fuel the furnace inside me more.

  “I’ll use whatever tone I want.” I’m done holding back. “What did you do? Tell me, Blake. What did you and my parents do?”

  “Shut up! Shut the fuck up,” he roars. “You bring my daughter home, right now.”

  “Your daughter?” Fucking, bastard. “Don’t you mean, daughters? Or is Everly no longer yours now?” I don’t wait for a response. “Maybe”—my voice drips with sarcasm—“it’s because she never was yours, and you’ve always known that, you piece of shit.”

  “Get your ass home. I won’t tell you again.”

  “You don’t have that right.” A dry laugh slips from my lips. “You won’t be telling me a goddamn thing anymore
.”

  “You are my wife. You’ll come home now, and you’ll bring Emersyn with you. Do you hear me?” He’s livid, and I don’t have an ounce of care in me. I’m the one that has the right to be mad. To be angry. And I’ve only grasped a small part of what they’ve done.

  If I could just remember.

  “I only married you because I thought I was pregnant with your baby. She isn’t yours, Blake.” The only sound coming from the other end of the line is his heavy breathing. “Say something. Tell me why.”

  “I don’t have to justify anything to you. You have an hour to show up with my daughter or so help me God . . .”

  “So help you God, what? What do you think you’re going to do exactly?” What can he do? I don’t know, and that worries me. I won’t let anyone take my girls away from me. I won’t.

  “I will do whatever it takes, Whitney. You hear me? Whatever it takes.” His voice is devious, leaving me no doubt that he would do anything. But what is anything exactly?

  Shane is right. I don’t need to go home until I’ve spoken to a lawyer. And how can I take Everly away from him? Even for a little while. He’s missed so much time.

  What have I missed? What could’ve been if I hadn’t lost my memory? Were Shane and I meant to be together? Would we be together now if I hadn’t lost my memory?

  “Until I know exactly what you’ve done, I won’t be coming home. Neither will the kids.”

  “Don’t you dare test me, woman. In the eyes of the law, I am Everly’s father. You need to tell that fuck you’ve decided to shack up with that. I can, and I will take her too if you don’t come home, Whitney.” It’s eerie how calm his voice has become. Instead of focusing on that, my chest builds with pressure as tension cords along my shoulders. “Don’t push me.”

  He’s threatening me. He’s threatening to take both of them away. I don’t think so. I won’t let it happen, but I know there is no telling him that. It’d be like beating a dead horse. He only believes what he wants to believe.

  Hmm . . . Is that why? Did Blake always believe I was his?

  “Why, Blake? Answer me. Why did you marry me when I was carrying another man’s baby?” He’s silent again. “I’m not going to do what you say, so you might as well tell me the truth. You were never Everly’s father so why did you say you were?”

  “You should be fucking grateful I made you my wife while you were carrying his child.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Tell me what I want to know, dammit.”

  “I don’t have to.” His tone is laced with arrogance. “But you do have to bring MY daughter home.”

  “Yeah, well that’s not gonna happen.”

  Pulling the phone away from my ear, I press the button on the screen to end the call. And even though it’s not my phone, I flip the switch to silence it. I know he won’t stop calling. And I don’t want to hear it right now. I have too much to figure out. He’s not denying anything. Just like my mother didn’t. Everything I’ve seen and everything I’ve heard is leading me to believe everything the man that makes me heart jump says. There is no instinct telling me to run from him; quite the opposite, actually.

  “Mom?”

  Ah, hell.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Shane Braden

  She didn’t leave. Thank God for small miracles.

  But it’s Monday, and I had to report in this morning, working a 7 AM to 7 PM shift. It’s going to be a long ass day. It’s already been a long three hours. How am I supposed to shove them to the back of my mind? Whitney. My daughter. Even Emersyn. It’s impossible. They are the forefront.

  It’s still surreal that she named Emersyn after me. Subconsciously of course, but she still did it. That has to mean something.

  I got Whitney to drop me off at work this morning so she wouldn’t be without a vehicle. I was adamant. I didn’t want her to go back to her house even for her car, and I can just Uber it home.

  I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure she doesn’t go back to Blake’s, even if it means maxing out my credit card or taking out a loan to get her another car since mine is paid for. My parents did a lot for me while I was in medical school and even when I moved here, they helped me a lot. I’m not ungrateful. I know my parents struggled when they were in my shoes because they started their family before they finished medical school.

  “Shane?”

  Twisting around to Roxanne’s voice, I see her standing in the entryway to our dictation room. Well, it’s not really a room. It’s more of a small, semi-secluded space with three computers tucked away along the hallway for doctors to finish patient charts. I’ve been in here for the last half hour doing dictations on three of the patients I treated this morning.

  “Yeah?”

  “You finishing up?” She smiles shyly at me. I’m not sure why. She’s not shy with anyone else. Just me, yet she always finds a reason to talk to me. I’m not blind. I knew she had a crush even before my brother pointed it out a few weeks ago. I don’t know why she continues to pursue me. I’ve given her no reason to think there could be anything between us.

  “Yep,” I inform her. “All done. What’s up? Any new patients?” I stand after logging off the computer.

  “Nothing new on the board. There are still four patients roomed.” She braces her palms on the entrance walls, preventing me from slipping out. “That’s not why I stopped by.” She chuckles.

  “Oh, okay. What’s up then?” I ask once again.

  “Some of us are going out after our shift tonight to grab a bite to eat and have a few beers. Wanna come?” Her lips tip up.

  “Nah. I can’t.” I shake my head.

  It has become a weekly ritual that Roxanne or one of the other residents invites me to hang out after our shift, and even though I’ve accepted their invite a few times, it’s just not my thing. Okay, they aren’t my thing. With the exceptions of Gavin, I really haven’t connected with the others to consider them friends. Then again, I really haven’t tried. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to get close to others. Maybe it’s because I have enough friends already. Maybe it’s because you don’t want to replace Trent. Yeah . . . maybe.

  “Oh, come on,” she whines. “What do you got going on that you gotta rush home for, huh?”

  “A lot,” I breathe out. More than I ever imagined possible. The problem is, I’m not certain I’ll get to keep them. The pain slicing through me at that thought is almost unbearable—which is why I keep trying to shove it to the farthest section of my mind.

  “Huh?” she questions, dumbfound. “You don’t even have a dog, Shane.”

  “I have a daughter.” It just slipped out. I wasn’t planning on telling anyone besides my boss, but now that it’s out of my mouth it feels good to say it out loud for once. I have a daughter. I have a daughter.

  “I’m sorry, what?” She leans closer, making me step backward.

  “It’s a long story.” I shrug. “You know the woman that showed up Gavin’s Saturday night? The one I left with?”

  “Yeah, what was up with that? That isn’t like you.”

  It’s not, but she hasn’t known me long enough to make that call. It’s not like I hit Blake even though I should have been the one to do it.

  “Maybe not, but it happened, and again, it’s too long of a story. But I have daughter. My girl . . .” I pause. I’ve always referred to Whitney as my girlfriend. But she’s not. She married someone else. Pain shoots through my chest at that fact. “That woman was a girl I dated a long time ago. Her name is Whitney. Anyway, I have a daughter with her, and they’re at my apartment; staying with me,” I clarify.

  Shock crosses her face. One look transforms into another: disappointment and even anger, I think. But maybe this is what she needed to hear to make her understand I’m not interested. It’s always been Whitney. This weekend confirmed it. It’ll always be her.

  “I appreciate the invite. Maybe another night, okay?” I gesture for her to step back to allow me to exit.

  Just as
her stunned silence evaporates, my phone buzzes from my back pocket.

  “I can’t . . . I mean . . . but I don’t . . .” She continues not making a full sentence as I reach into my pocket, pulling out my cell phone.

  Kylie’s bright smile lights up the screen. It feels like it was just yesterday that I took that photo. But it wasn’t, and too much has happened since she was that happy.

  “I gotta take this.” I flash the screen at her, but she’s just staring dumbfounded at me. I guess I get it. It’s still a shock and something I haven’t fully let myself embrace because Everly doesn’t know I’m her father.

  Not yet anyway.

  But she will.

  I turn away from Roxanne—who still hasn’t acknowledged my phone call. I’m being rude, I know, but I’m also not up for explaining further. It’s none of her business anyway.

  “Hey, Ky.”

  “I got another resident to cover me through Sunday.” She sighs. Her voice sounds almost as broken as I feel. She doesn’t need more heartache this year, or ever. “My flight is Wednesday night after my shift.”

  “Okay,” I resign. There’s no talking her, or even Eve, out of coming. They want to see their friend too. I’m being selfish. But shouldn’t I get to be selfish? I’ve missed too much. I’ve lost time I’ll never get back.

  No. I can’t deal with all that yet. I close my eyes as I brace my forearm on the white wall at the back of the dictation room.

  “Okay? Just like that? You’re fine with me coming?”

  My head falls, landing on my heated arm.

  “Yeah, Kylie. It’s fine. Come. I could use a friend.” In all honesty, I could. I’m still upset that she won’t ask to get out of her lease. I’m still mad at her for not agreeing to move. If Trent were still alive, he’d be livid that I let her stay in an apartment where another tenant—a girl the same age as Kylie and a girl that looks a lot like Kylie—was murdered. Maybe if they’d caught the person responsible I’d be okay with her decision. But they haven’t, and I’m not fine with her decision. She’s one of my best friends. She is my best friend now that Trent’s gone. And if anything happened to her too . . .

 

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