by M. S. Parker
I’d only been gone a little over a month, but it felt like a lifetime.
“Coming or going?” The balding man in the aisle seat gave me a friendly smile. His accent marked him as being from Glasgow. “Are you going to visit or coming home?”
I answered honestly, my voice soft, “I’m not sure.”
He gave me an odd look, but I was already turning my attention back toward the window. It was evening, but since it was August, it was still light enough for me to see out the window. The Statue of Liberty was visible in the distance, reminding me of the first time I saw it.
Then, I’d been full of hope, eager to start the new adventure. Now, as I looked at the city I once considered home, all I felt was dread.
Staying in Ireland hadn’t been appealing either. Not with everyone giving me sideways looks, wondering just how much of the truth I was telling about my life in America. I hadn’t exactly given anyone much to go on either. I’d said it was because I wanted to focus on Mam, but it was a weak-sounding excuse that I doubted most of my family had believed. Once everything had started getting back to normal, my reason for being there faded.
Mam had been in the hospital only for a couple days, but the doctors had wanted to run some tests when they hadn’t been able to find an initial cause for her passing out. Of course, I stayed to see through the results, which had basically said she needed to change her diet, and then I’d spent time with each of my siblings and their families. But there was only so much time someone could claim to be taking as a vacation. I’d needed to make a choice.
Not that there really was a choice as far as I was concerned.
I couldn’t stay, not when I’d left things unfinished here.
Not when I didn’t know what I wanted.
The descent into JFK was smooth and drama free, but it didn’t ease the knots in my stomach. The text message I’d sent to Alix ending things had shown as being read, but he hadn’t sent back a response. I hadn’t expected him to, not after I told him we were through, but that lack of expectation hadn’t explained itself to my heart.
I missed him.
As hacked off as I’d been at him, I was hurt that he hadn’t replied, hadn’t fought for me.
Part of it was on me though too. I’d been on an emotional edge when I’d gotten his texts and voicemails, and I’d reacted impulsively rather than thinking things through like I usually did. I’d let what happened with my mom cloud my judgment when it came to dealing with Alix, and I shouldn’t have. I should have called him and explained what’d happened. Then, if he’d still behaved like a total asshole, my anger could have been justified.
“Here you go, lass.” The Scot pulled my bag from the overhead compartment and handed it to me. “You be safe.”
“Thank you,” I said as I took my bag. I kept my head down as I followed the other passengers off the plane.
I didn’t have anyone waiting for me since I hadn’t told anyone I was coming back. Not that I would’ve had anyone to call. I’d burned whatever ties I had to people here when I left without an explanation. I made my way to the exit where taxis would be parked, and as I stepped outside, the heat hit me hard enough to make me stagger back a step. Humidity so thick that it felt like breathing water. The cloying smell of pavement and diesel that would include other scents as I went into Manhattan.
I was back.
No more putting off thinking about it or pretending that it wasn’t happening. The time I spent in Ireland felt like some sort of dream, an out of body experience. I’d focused on my family and hadn’t let myself think about New York too much. I hadn’t been able to put it completely out of my mind, but it’d still been enough to keep me from having to acknowledge the full extent of what awaited me until this very moment.
The little bit of psychology I knew said that the sense of smell was the one most powerfully linked to memories. One whiff of something could bring back a host of memories and emotions, and with every breath I took, I was pulled back into the life I had abandoned five weeks ago.
I scrubbed at my cheeks, wiping away the evidence of the tears that had spilled over without my consent. I’d spent too much time over the past five weeks crying to start it all over again now. Once I was safely in my own apartment again, I might allow myself to give in, but I wouldn’t do it here.
I opened the door to the cab and slid my bag into the backseat next to me. I gave him the address and settled back in the seat. I’d arrived not too long after the worst of rush hour traffic, so the streets were still going to be crowded, but as much as I wanted to be back in my own place, I was grateful for the slow pace.
My landlord had been understanding when I’d called to tell him my predicament. He’d agreed to hold my apartment as long as I kept him in the loop about when I’d be coming back, and I’d sent him a letter last week with August’s rent, letting him know I planned to return this month. That, plus a plane ticket back, had drained my bank account. I had enough left for the necessities, but I’d need to start looking for work right away.
I paid the driver, then headed to the door. I rubbed my palms against my jeans and flexed my fingers. My heart thudded against my chest as adrenaline flooded through me. I could have waited to do this, gathered my courage. Called first.
If I put it off, though, things would only get harder. I needed to have this done so I could start planning for my future.
I knocked and waited. It was possible he wasn’t here, but I was hoping he was. If not, I’d have to figure out a way to get past the doorman at his building, and that would just make matters even more complicated than they already were.
After a couple minutes, I reached for the door. If it was locked, I’d go to his apartment. The door opened easily though, and I stepped inside. I knew there was a chance I’d be interrupting Alix and some woman, but if that was the case, then I deserved the heartache such a sight would offer. What had happened between us was as much my fault as it was his.
The first thing I felt when I saw him standing by the table was relief that he was alone. Then I really saw him, and a stab of pain went through my heart. Even from his profile, I could see dark smudges under his eyes. A bit of scruff on his usually close-shaven face. Clothes rumpled.
As that all registered, I also saw that there were no pictures on the walls. No equipment or props to be seen. The place was virtually empty.
“Alix.” I said his name softly, not wanting to startle him, but he jumped anyway.
He turned the rest of the way toward me, eyes widening.
Before he could say anything at all, I blurted out the words that had brought me here straight from the airport. The words that were the reason I hadn’t had a choice about coming back to New York. The words that had changed everything for me...and would do the same for him.
“I’m pregnant.”
Twenty-Eight
Alix
I’d come back to the studio to pack things up. It’d been more than a month since I produced anything decent. I’d never gone that long without taking a single picture, not since I first started my own professional studio. I wasn’t giving up, I told myself. I was just taking a break until I figured out what I would do next.
The common sense part of me knew that I was just making excuses. This wasn’t simply a loss of inspiration. It was a loss of desire. All I’d ever wanted to do from the moment I picked up my first camera was to be a photographer.
Until now.
Everything was numb. Gray.
And I was pretty sure my friends were going to stage an intervention for me in the near future if I didn’t snap out of it soon.
That was the main reason why I didn’t answer the door when someone knocked. I loved my cousin, but I hadn’t been able to stomach being around Erik this past month. He was too fucking happy. Even when he and Tanya were arguing, he was obnoxious. He said it was because he knew that what they had was stronger than a disagreement.
Bastard.
I heard the door open but ignored
it. Whoever it was could go and–
“Alix.”
I jumped. Fuck me. It was her.
I turned around even as my brain kept trying to tell me that I’d imagined it. That it couldn’t possibly be Sine. She was gone. She’d left me.
But it was her.
Some part of my brain registered all of the physical things. Her wild curls. The bruised-looking flesh under her eyes. Her clothes hanging on her. How the skin on her face looked stretched too tight over her bones. The way her once sparkling eyes were dull.
But most of all, I was consumed by the fact that my heart seemed to have stopped, frozen. My lungs burning as I forgot to breathe.
I only had a few seconds for it all to sink in because then...
“I’m pregnant.”
I gave my head a shake because I must have heard her incorrectly. There was no way she was pregnant. None.
“I’m sorry to be blurting it out like that,” she continued, her accent thicker than it had been when she’d...left. She twisted her hands together and took a step forward. “I meant to be...I mean...dammit.”
Seeing her flustered broke me out of my daze. “Why?” The question came out flat. “Why would you leave if you’re...” I couldn’t finish the question. Saying the word would make it real.
“I didn’t know,” she said. Her eyes flicked to mine for a moment. “When I left, I didn’t know. I found out on Monday but didn’t want to be telling you over the phone.”
“You didn’t seem to have a problem telling me we were done via text, so I have a hard time believing that you can’t give news over the phone.” I sounded petty, but the filter between my brain and my mouth wasn’t really working. It’d stalled somewhere around pregnant and hadn’t come back online yet.
I waited for her to come back with something sarcastic or snarky or angry. Anything that meant we could have it out and finally get some closure. Move on.
Or, as much as we could move on when a baby was in the mix.
Baby.
Shit.
How in the fuck had that happened?
“That day – the day I left – I was on my way into work.” Her voice stayed the same. Quiet. Even.
Emotionless.
“While I was at the bodega, my brother called. My mother had passed out and was rushed to the hospital.”
Shit.
“I rushed home, packed, then went straight to the airport. There was a cancellation almost right away.”
My stomach continued to drop, and my heart followed.
“I was on the phone with Donald until I stepped onto the plane...and turned my phone off.”
By the time I’d realized she was missing, she’d already been in the air.
With her phone off.
Because her mom had been rushed to the hospital.
I was a complete ass.
“I should have called you, I know,” she continued. “But I didn’t think of it with all the rush of getting on the plane. All I could think of was getting home to Mam.”
The worst kind of ass.
“We were landing when I remembered. As soon as I turned on my phone, I...” She swallowed hard. “I saw your messages.”
Petulant, childish messages.
She risked another look at me, and I wondered if she could see the guilt written across my face.
“I accept my part for what happened between us,” she said. “And I’m not here to be asking for anything. I have no expectations–”
“I’m so sorry.” I crossed the distance between us, my heart ready to beat out of my chest. “This is all my fault. I fucked up. I should have trusted you, trusted that there was a good reason–”
She shook her head, fatigue written on every line of her body. “Water under the bridge. No need to dredge up the past.”
I reached out for her, then thought better of it. She probably didn’t want me to touch her, not after everything I’d done.
But I’d be damned if I stopped trying.
“I mean it, Sine. I am so sorry. I never should have said those things.” My heart twisted again. I wasn’t numb anymore. I was feeling, and it sucked. “I was an asshole.”
Not even a hint of a smile.
“Please, Sine.” My voice cracked. “I was wrong. Forgive me.”
It was a plea, not a command.
“Only if you forgive me for not telling you.”
I couldn’t stop myself from taking her hands. Despite the heat outside, her hands were cold. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were thinking about your mom. As you should have been. You didn’t deserve to have to deal with my shit on top of everything else.”
Her bottom lip trembled, and I released her hands to cup her face between my palms. I hated seeing her upset, and hated even more that I was responsible for it.
“Whatever you think you should feel guilty for, don’t. You did nothing wrong. I was a bastard for how I behaved.”
I took a step back.
“Please tell me that your mother’s okay.” If her mom wasn’t...I’d never forgive myself for putting the extra stress on Sine.
“She is.”
Some of the life seemed to be coming back into Sine’s eyes. That was good. I needed her to be herself again...before we talked about that other thing she said.
“And I forgive you.”
Relief flooded through me, almost making my knees weak.
“But there is a question I’d like you to answer.”
I nodded, wondering if I should ask her to go somewhere else for us to have the baby discussion.
Baby.
Fuck.
I was going to be–
“What’s going to happen now? With us, I mean.”
Shit.
Twenty-Nine
Sine
I knew we had to discuss the baby, but I needed to know where things stood between us. That would tell me what to expect when we discussed his involvement. I promised myself that I’d accept whatever he wanted.
He was quiet for several seconds, each one stretching out until I was worried that I’d asked the wrong thing.
“What is it you want to happen, Sine?” His voice was soft.
My pulse hadn’t slowed from the moment I knocked on his door, but it seemed to beat double-time at the question. I’d given him my forgiveness, and he seemed to genuinely care about what happened, but I wouldn’t be fooled into mistaking wishful thinking for something more solid.
Coming here was a risk, not only because I hadn’t been certain of the welcome I’d receive, especially once I shared my news, but because I knew he had the power to break my heart.
But I also knew that if I didn’t take a chance now, I’d regret it. I’d never been a coward, and I’d never forgive myself if I turned into one now.
I had to lay it all out there.
“I want...” I laid my hand on my stomach. It was still flat, but I’d found myself standing that way from the moment I’d seen that plus sign. As if I could feel my son or daughter already there, growing inside me.
Alix’s gaze followed my hand, and I watched the expression on his face change, as if somehow my gesture made it real to him, the same way the test had made it for me.
“I want us to be together,” I said the words simply, forcing myself not to rush through them. “I want us to see if this works. You and me and...”
“Our baby,” he finished.
I nodded, then forced myself to add, “If that isn’t what you’ll be wanting, I’ll understand. And I won’t be asking you for anything, should you not wish to be a part–”
I lost the rest of what I intended to say when his mouth came down on mine. I felt the hunger in his kiss all the way down to my bones, and the desire I’d been keeping down came rushing forward. I grabbed the front of his shirt, holding him close, letting everything I felt pour into him. If I walked away with my heart in shreds, I would do it with everything left on the table.
He pulled back after a moment, then rested his forehea
d against mine.
“You asked me what I want,” he said as he cupped my face. “I want you.”
He dropped his hand between us and placed it on my stomach. The heat of his palm warmed me through the thin cotton of my t-shirt.
“I want us.”
A surge of hope went through me, strong enough that I couldn’t quite suppress it. “I want to be certain I understand you...”
He held my chin in one hand, keeping our eyes locked. “Then let me be clear. I want you in my life. I want our child in my life. I want it to be our life. Our family.”
If I was a different sort of woman, I might have melted into a puddle after hearing those words. But I didn’t melt. What I did was take a shaky breath, then let it out with all the tension I’d been holding.
“I love you, Sine.” He brushed his lips across mine. “And I want you to be mine.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I felt tears burning in my eyes.
Apparently, I was that sort of woman.
Damned hormones.
“I am yours,” I managed to whisper. “For as long as you’ll want me.”
“Forever,” he said earnestly. “I want you forever.”
He kissed me again, hands sliding around my waist, and then down to cup my behind through my jeans. He pulled me tight against him, and I wound my arms around his neck, needing to feel the hard press of his body to assure me that I wasn’t dreaming, wasn’t imagining his words. I hadn’t let myself hope for this, no matter how much I wanted it.
I dug my hands into his hair, pushed myself up on my toes as I nipped at his bottom lip. He groaned, his hands squeezing my ass, and a bolt of desire went through me, the sort of desire that only he could make me feel.
My memory hadn’t done reality any justice.
Emboldened, I tugged at his shirt, needing more. He took a step back, hands closing around my wrists. I frowned, confused.
“I thought – I mean–”
“I want to,” he said quickly. “I just...” He looked down for a moment, and when he looked up again, his expression was sheepish. “I don’t want to hurt you.”