Love, Redefined: A Contemporary Romance Novel (Love Lessons Book 1)

by Brynn North

  “Yeah, I remember,” he said cautiously.

  “Well, I can’t have kids. Vi probably never told you, but I have a condition called premature ovarian failure, and early menopause. It’s genetic, and a reason I’m an only child. My mom had me before it progressed for her, but it rendered me infertile.” There. It was all out in the open.

  “Oh, Katrina, I’m so sorry to hear it.” His voice was shocked, yet sincere and sympathetic. “That had to be incredibly tough on you.” Even when dropping a bomb on him, he was still concerned with me.

  But I knew I had to be completely honest with him, and start on a clean slate. No more lies or hidden truths. “Well, that’s the thing. Shane and I were prepared to go through life without kids. Live a DINK lifestyle and all. We had it all planned out. Having kids wasn’t even an option for us.”

  “Then what was the issue?” I could tell by his tone of voice that he wasn’t sure if the answer was any of his business.

  “He...changed his mind. Wanted kids. But wanted biological ones, a pregnant wife, the whole works. And I couldn’t offer that to him.”

  “So he broke it off after ten years? Flipped the script on you?” Unless I was imagining it, there was a slight hint of disdain in his voice.

  “Well, I can’t fault Shane for wanting what he wants, can I?” My voice was defensive as I slipped back into my old habit of defending him to the end.

  “No, I guess not,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s a hard topic. What does he think about all this now?”

  If there was one question I did not want to answer, it was that one. But I had vowed to be honest with Boston, and with myself. “He told me last night he regretted everything. That he was stupid to do what he did and let me get away,” I admitted, almost in a whisper. “And he was willing to figure things out with me.”

  “Well, then.” Boston’s voice was suddenly loud. “Congratulations! That’s what you wanted! I’m happy it all worked out.”

  I jerked back. Is that what he thought? He was happy for me? Then, in horror, it dawned on me. Maybe Boston didn’t want an infertile woman either, and he was letting me down nicely, using this as an out so he didn’t have to reject me later. Or maybe he didn’t care if I went back to Shane. He was over the whole back-and-forth situation. Over me. Either way, it was clear what he wanted, and what he wanted wasn’t me.

  “Thank you,” I said stiffly, not sure what I was thanking him for, but suddenly desperate to get off the phone. Maybe thanking him was just the polite thing to do. “Well, I better get going then. I’ll send you my next article next week.”

  “You got enough to write about? Need me to do any Googling on classes in Chicago on how to carve spoons, knit socks, or grow organic catnip? I’m sure I could get TC Media to cover a class or two.” Boston’s teasing voice was back, though it sounded a little forced. Regardless, it created a pit in the hole of my stomach. I missed that voice so much over the last weeks, and somehow even hearing a lighter version of it made things a hundred times worse.

  “Naw, my next class is going to be Lego Building for Adults. Got a group together and everything. I’ll be working on a replica of the US Bank Stadium. You can display it on your desk.”

  He laughed. “Can’t wait. Take care, Kat.”

  With that, Boston hung up, and I was out in the hospital hallway, alone in a crowd.

  29

  “How’s my favorite patient today?” I forced a grin as I entered Shane’s hospital room.

  Shane had been a real pain in the ass the last few days, and as much as I hated it, I guess I couldn’t blame him either. He was bored, tired, and in discomfort from his leg. For a guy who was usually so active, sitting in a hospital bed for a week had to be torture. We thought he’d be out by now and moved to rehabilitation, but he had developed a minor infection and needed to be monitored for a couple of days longer than anticipated.

  He barely looked at me as I placed bags of his favorite donuts, the ones I drove from my Airbnb to three neighborhoods over in Chicago traffic to get.

  I tried again. “Good morning! Any big plans for today?”

  “Rock climbing,” he grunted, still staring at Drew Carey jumping up and down and waving his arms in excitement for some woman who just won a new car.

  “I’ll go grab the crampons and granola bars then. Let’s just hope I don’t confuse things at the store and get you some Tampax instead.”

  That finally got a response out of him, and he gave me a small smile.

  “Sorry, babe, it’s been a hard week. My leg itches, I have nothing to do, and not even sure when I can get back to work.” He balled up his fist and hit his hand. “I wanted to get back to Dubai, you know? Experience the city and work on that project. It would skyrocket my career. Turn my whole life around. Now I’m stuck back in Chicago.”

  I recoiled, stung. To hide it, I got up and started straightening things around his room. Between all his friends and the firm, his room was overflowing with cards and flowers. He would move down to the rehabilitation area anytime to work on physical therapy, and we wouldn’t be able to take them all.

  “What do you want me to do with these?” I held up a bunch of Get Well Soon cards, trying to change the subject. He caught on, which was rare for him.

  “Sorry,” he apologized again. “I shouldn’t be so negative. Coming back here got me you, so I should be more grateful.” He scrunched up his face. “Um, I don’t know, why don’t you bring them home and we’ll decide what to do with them later? Maybe you can scan them into a digital file or something?”

  Home. The one thing we didn’t discuss. My Airbnb was reasonably priced, and I had booked it for a full two weeks, not knowing how long I’d stay, but I didn’t have the money to spare for longer than that. Kiara had been great and allowed me to turn in work remotely, but I wasn’t able to work the full hours right now, and my paycheck was taking a hit. Her usual admin would be back in a week, and after that, the only source of income I’d have coming in was my freelancing for Love, Redefined.

  “Where is home, Shane?” I asked, putting words to what I was wondering all week.

  Not one bit of me wanted to get into this conversation, but I was like a pot with a lid on it, about to boil over. Except since that first night in the hospital when he declared his feelings toward me, we hadn’t talked about the situation again. There was too much going on, with visitors coming and going, doctors in and out, and he needed to rest and heal more than he needed to have a ‘define the relationship’ talk. And I wasn’t ready for it either, though for an entirely different reason than his.

  He looked surprised at my question. “At the apartment. Where else? You weren’t planning to stay at the Airbnb forever, were you?”

  “But we can’t just slide back into what we had,” I argued. Didn’t he see how far we grew apart? How far each one of us had come in a short time?

  “Why not? I love you, you love me. Our breakup was just a mistake. An elephant-sized mistake, but one that can be patched.”

  “And you’re over the ‘pregnant wife’ thing?” That had to be cleared up before we could even think about moving forward.

  He paused, and I could tell he was contemplating it. But then again, his thinking was a little slower with all the meds and concussion, so I couldn’t exactly fault him for taking his time.

  “Of course I want it,” he finally answered. “But we’ll just figure it out. I didn’t want to be in the hospital now with a bum leg, but that’s where I’m at, isn’t it? We need to roll with life’s punches sometimes.”

  Not exactly the most romantic declaration of all times, but then again, it was exactly what I wanted to hear five months ago, so maybe like him, I just had to roll with life’s punches and be happy with what I got, even if it wasn’t on my timing.

  Just then he asked if I could adjust his pillows and run down to the cafeteria to get him a sandwich for lunch.

  “Make sure they put the good cheese on, too. When Mom got me one last time, they a
ccidentally put on muenster. Muenster takes like an old sock.” He gave me a gagging motion. “When you get back, maybe you can help me with my work forms? I need to do some short-term disability paperwork. But as short as possible, I want to get back to the firm ASAP.”

  I glanced at my tote bag, with my laptop inside. I was hoping he would take a nap this afternoon, or be content with watching more TV. Between all the time at the hospital, catching up with old friends, and keeping up to date with his care plan, I had hardly gotten any work done in the last week. I wanted to work on my next article, seeing that I needed to email it to Boston within the week. I had also promised Kiara I’d send her a proposal for another freelance article series I had in mind.

  Sighing, I pushed those thoughts out of my mind. Shane was hurt. In the hospital. He needed me now. Things would even out. One day.

  I’d kill for an hour alone, though.

  “Cheddar Sun Chips on the side?” I asked with a perky voice, meant to cheer him up. Or cheer me up. Either would do right about now.

  He grinned at me, a familiar grin that fit me like a favorite old shoe, and my irritation momentarily melted away. “My babe knows me so well.”

  I grinned back at him. Things were back to normal. At least for now.

  30

  “I signed you up for a pottery throwing class,” Vi said authoritatively. “It meets tonight at seven in Wicker Park.”

  I blinked at the loud voice coming through my speaker so early in the morning. “I can’t do that! Shane moves to the rehabilitation unit today!”

  “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t realize you were single-handedly moving him, all his stuff, and setting up the machines there. Thought maybe there’d be some medical people to help do that or something.”

  “You know what I meant,” I groaned, leaning back into my pillow. I checked my watch. I had just over an hour to shower, eat, and pound out a few sentences for work before I had to head to the hospital. “He just likes me there to help figure out what’s all going on.”

  “Katrina,” she scolded. “You’ve done nothing but be there. Every waking moment for the last almost two weeks has been either sitting at the hospital, or working, or sometimes both at once. When’s the last time you ate somewhere that didn’t require you to place your food on a plastic tray and wait for a cashier to ring you out?”

  It had been a while, now that I thought about it.

  “Exactly,” she said when I didn’t answer. “It is perfectly okay for you to take some time to yourself. Hell, it’s healthy to take a couple of hours to yourself.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled. “But why pottery throwing? Why not, like, a five-course meal or something? Dessert testing?”

  “Because if I know you, you haven’t done one thing that you find enjoyable lately. It’s just work, work, work. And you’re feeling tired, depleted, and mentally drained. You need something to take your mind off life. And if you had a fancy meal, you’d just be scrolling through your phone while you ate.”

  As much as I hated to admit, it was like she ripped open my soul and took a peek. I felt like my mind was on a constant hamster wheel these days, trying to figure everything out.

  “Besides,” she continued. “I have an ulterior motive. It’s next door to a textile place I love, and I want you to get some samples for me. And if you dooooo...” she sang the last word, stretching it out as long as possible to rile me up.

  “Yes?” I asked, wild hope building up my chest. I clenched my fist in anticipation.

  “I’ll drive down this weekend to visit you and get the samples. And visit Shane, of course,” she hastily added at the end.

  “YES, YES, YES, YES, YESSSSSSS!” I screamed into the phone. I whipped off my blanket, jumped up, and started doing a little shuffle dance in my pajamas. A night off, a fun activity, and a visit from Vi? I used to dream about winning the lottery, but now I knew that was stupid. This was much better.

  “You always fall for a bit of bribery. I’ll text you the address. Have fun.” With that, she clicked off.

  “Pottery throwing?” Shane asked incredulously. “You’re ditching me to make a bowl?”

  “I hardly think that taking a few hours to do something after weeks of sitting here is ‘ditching you’.” My voice came out more sharply than I intended. Softening it, I went on. “Besides. Your mom is here, and you have people from work coming tonight. You don’t need me.”

  “But I like having you here,” he whined.

  For a moment, I wavered. Surely Vi could get the samples shipped or something, right? But then, I thought of her words, about how I hadn’t done any self-care lately, and became firm. And I was looking forward to it too. I had watched a few of the studio’s YouTube videos, and it looked fun to create something out of a blob of clay.

  “Sorry, Shane, I need a break,” I said firmly. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

  “Fine,” he relented. “But pottery of all things? Why not something more useful, like an investment talk? Or a networking event? Get your career going.”

  “Because I want something fun, Shane. And this is fun to me.”

  He looked skeptical for a moment, then relented. “Okay, fine. Come, give me a kiss though, before you leave?”

  I squashed down my irritation as I gave him a quick kiss. Shane was still going through a hard time, with all the doctors and nurses in and out of his room, and in pain. It was acceptable that he wasn’t going to be in a good mood all day, every day. And he was a finance guy, always trying to put dollars to his time. He didn’t see the value of doing something creative for creativity’s sake, and that was perfectly fine.

  You know who always is in a good mood and understands your need for an outlet. The thought flashed through my brain before I had a chance to shut it down. It didn’t matter if Boston was cheerful and supportive. He didn’t want me and had made that perfectly clear. And I had worked so hard to make myself a better version for my future, the future I envisioned with Shane. May as well put it to good use.

  If I had a problem, hell if I knew what it was.

  By the time pottery class was over, my Mood-with-a-capital-M was gone, and I decided to celebrate my better attitude by stopping for a proper meal and glass of wine before I headed back to the Airbnb.

  I was just settling into my salad and glass of Chardonnay when I got a text from Boston. My heart picked up a little.

  Boston: Hey, still planning on sending #5 this week?

  Kat: Yep, most of the way done.

  Since I had been so busy the last couple of weeks, I hadn’t had time to do anything exciting for this article, and instead wrote about taking care of yourself financially, both before and after a breakup. I threw in a few ideas of my own but rounded it out with stories from readers I polled, asking about their worst financial mistakes and best advice. I hoped it’d be good enough for Boston, but anything over the last article would be an improvement.

  I waited for his response until I was forced to admit one wasn’t coming. I was contemplating writing back to him again to see if I could invoke a response, but before I could decide, my phone lit up again.

  “Hey, Shane, what’s up?” I cradled the phone against my shoulder as I took another sip of wine.

  “Nothing, just wanted to see how your pottery class went. Have fun?” His tone seemed to try to make up for his earlier words, which I appreciated.

  “Yeah, I’ll have to tell you about it tomorrow morning. I ended up making a vase! I was going for a bowl but I couldn’t control the clay. It was so funny.” I smiled at the memory, ready to tell him more about the class.

  “Oh, you’re not coming by tonight? I was wondering what was taking you so long.”

  Guilt flashed through me. “Uh, not tonight. I just grabbed a bite to eat, then I was going to go to sleep. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to go to bed before eleven that I’m looking forward to catching up a little.”

  Shane held his silence a beat too long, and the flash of guilt grew to a fla
sh flood when he finally spoke. “I get it. You need your space. I shouldn’t be so needy.”

  “Shane, you’re not needy, you’re in the hospital! I just needed a night to recharge is all.” I tried to squash down the remorse. I shouldn’t feel bad about wanting a little time to myself.

  “And you should. I’ve been taking you for granted. Make sure you get more fun time, okay?”

  “Okay,” I forced out, looking for a way to change the topic. “Hey, did I tell you Vi is going to drive down and see you this weekend?”

  “Wow, that’s great!” His voice was fake cheerful, but I appreciated the effort nonetheless. “Tell you what, I’ll ask someone at the office to book you guys a table at Girl and the Goat.” I gasped. That was one of the hardest reservations in Chicago to get, and he’d have to pull some major strings to get us in on such short notice. Vi would love it. “My treat. To make up for being such an asshole for the last few days.”

  “Thanks, Shane. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I blew a few kisses into the phone and excitedly texted Vi the news.

  31

  “Vi, Vi, Vi!” I screamed, jumping into her arms as soon as she stepped through the car door.

  “Whoa, girlie, this isn’t some rom-com airport scene,” she laughed, hugging me back.

  “Close enough. You’re dressed to kill and I’m, well, dressed.”

  I stepped back to admire Vi’s skinny leather skirt and over the knee boots, which was a sharp contrast to my joggers and sneakers. “Don’t tell me you drove up like that? Such a basic bitch.”

  She punched me in the shoulder. “No. I stopped at the premium outlet on the way in since I was an hour early and all. Couldn’t resist my new purchases.”

  We giggled like we were back in the seventh grade.

  She held up a thick gold bag with navy ribbon handles, and I immediately recognized it as coming from the best luxury food store in Chicago. “So, should we visit Shane? I brought him some fancy chocolates.”