by Hart, Hanna
"Vasectomy then.” He paused. “Happy?"
Gabriella's brown eyes went impossibly wide. She eyed her salad and then slowly drew her glance up to her brother. "Thrilled."
Logan laughed, and she continued, "Hey, what about Riley?" She cleared her throat. "She doesn't want kids?"
"Nope," he said with a shrug.
"You're sure about that?"
He sighed. "I don't think it's that strange with our generation to not want children. It's becoming more common."
"Because you don't want to pay for one?"
"Because they're annoying as hell. I'm not sure how our parents’ generation put up with them."
"Logan, be serious. You never want one, ever?"
He drew his brows together and looked up at his sister curiously. Seeing that she was seriously interested in pursuing the conversation, he set his utensils down. He took a sip of his martini, holding her eyes. "Do you?"
"I might one day."
Logan laughed, hard.
"Hey! I might!" Gabriella said and then offered a shrug. "I might adopt."
For his sister, baring a child was out of the question. He remembered hearing that when she was a teenager. She'd gotten in a waterboarding accident when she was seventeen. She'd nearly broken her spine. She'd spent her senior year of high school recovering from the accident and bounced back seamlessly, ready to traipse across Europe come summer and then was settled in university by the fall, partying with the rest of her sorority.
So, while pregnancy was possible, the doctors suggested it might do more harm to her body than good.
Still, hearing that she might want to adopt surprised Logan.
"Beyond the... someone will be there to take of you when you're old bit... what's the benefit? Why do that?"
Gabriella frowned at him, and the reached across the table, smacking him playfully—but firmly—on the arm. "Um. Because you're creating life, idiot."
"Not the best reason to do it," Logan laughed. "What do you care? What difference does it make? You're that excited to be an aunt?"
“I just think it might be good for you,” she suggested with a final shrug. “Might mature you a bit.”
“Says the girl who ends her evening at four in the morning every day,” he laughed.
“Not the nights I’m working,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him.
“And by ‘work’ you mean researching purses online and making a list of the best styles for your friend.”
“It’s called research and development,” she argued.
“No, it isn’t,” he laughed and shook his head. “Not when it’s about purses.”
“Alright, mister, no job. Let’s talk about your personal accomplishments.”
Logan swallowed a bite and looked back up at his sister. “Hey, I put in my time.”
“Boo-hoo, I’m almost thirty and feel like I should retire,” his sister mocked him, balling her hand into a fist and miming like she was wiping tears away.
“Can we drop it?” he said, feeling suddenly annoyed with her persistence. “I don’t want kids. Why are we arguing about it?”
Gabriella shrugged. “I think if you just gave it a chance…”
“I tell you what,” he breathed. “Why don’t you have one first and if I like being an uncle then I’ll seriously consider it.”
His sister let out a bold, loud sigh. “Alright, forget it. Changing the subject now to your wife to be. Are you excited about the big day?”
“Of course.”
“Things aren’t the same way they were with…” she paused. “She whose name we dare not speak?”
“No,” he said tersely.
Stephania Vanzyle. A fellow trust-fund beachgoer who he'd fallen head over heels for three summers ago. He'd asked her to marry him. For legitimate reasons at that time. They remained happily engaged for six months, until she got pregnant by someone else.
And that was why he wasn't interested in having children.
As far as he was concerned, the existence of that child ruined his entire future.
Of course, he realized it wasn't actually the baby's fault. But if she had only cheated on him, he could have forgiven her. Instead, she got pregnant and wanted to start a family with her lover. Not exactly a happily ever after for Logan.
Children complicated things, and his life was complicated enough as it was.
"Things with Riley are better than with Steph."
Gabriella looked at him, a momentary reprieve from her salad, and then offered a genuine smile.
"I think so, too," Gabby said and then resumed eating.
His sister and Steph weren't exactly close. Not only was there an age difference between them, but Stephania was incredibly put-together. Not that Gabby wasn't, but they were put-together in different ways.
Stephania was proper to the point of rigid. She didn't even like leaving the island or going to the bar at the Crystal Beach resort because she called it a place for tourists.
Billionaire tourists, he reminded her, but there was no changing her mind.
Gabriella, despite her mother’s tireless efforts to prove otherwise, felt there was no difference between the islanders and the mainlanders. Money, or the lack of it, was never a factor in how Gabriella treated others or who her friends were.
Perhaps, he thought, that was why she and Riley seemed to be getting along so well.
"She's something else," he said easily, wondering exactly how much he should drone on about his alleged love for Riley before it would seem like he was putting it on. The less he said, the better, was his final decision. He didn't rave about his feelings for Stephania, and so he wouldn't be any more forthcoming about Riley.
“Then I’m happy for you,” she commented but didn’t meet his eyes. The gesture unnerved him in a way he couldn’t explain.
“Really,” she added. “I am.”
Chapter Ten
Riley
It was the night before the wedding and Riley couldn’t sleep. They were getting married Saturday afternoon on Logan’s father’s massive yacht. It was done up in string lights and white draperies.
She’d spent the entire Friday back on the mainland, unable to stay away from Zoe any longer. Without her daughter, she felt like a part of her was missing and nothing felt right again until she was back in little Zoe’s company.
“Just passed the sign now!” Riley said through her cell-phone; her friend Leah was on speaker as Riley approached her street.
“Reef Road!” Leah cheered, speaking of her oversized, sunflower-yellow street sign, a bounce in her voice coming through brightly on the other line.
“Reef road,” Riley repeated a bit dimly. “I’m still driving though.”
When she reached the house, it was more beautiful than she had remembered. Opposite of Logan's opulent, sometimes exhaustingly luxurious condo, Leah's apartment felt perfectly homey.
Riley had bounded into Leah’s apartment, unable to hold back her excitement any longer. The only problem? Her adorable three-year-old couldn’t care less for her sudden appearance.
In fact, she had quite the attitude about it.
Leah exclaimed, “Hey, you!” as Riley strode into the house, but Zoe just spun on her sock and crossed her arms, turning away from Riley.
“Hey, bub, what’s up?” she said, kneeling down to Zoe’s level and spinning her around.
“Mama, you didn’t call,” Zoe said, reaching her chubby pink hands up and grabbing hold of Riley's cheeks, looking somewhere in-between baby furious and upset.
"I know, honey. Mommy's sorry."
Riley's eyes were bursting with emotion: happy-tears glistening in her waterline as she pushed away from Zoe to get a better look at her. She ran a hand through Zoe’s hair and then looked back at Leah with adoring eyes that said, 'Isn't she just perfect?'
She had missed only one of her calls for the last week, unable to get away from Logan long enough to check on her daughter.
"She was up throughout the night," Leah adde
d, picking Charlotte up and rocking the two-year-old.
"I'm sorry," she offered again. "By the time I called, you were already sleeping, Zoe."
"Oh, don't say that," Leah offered a mothering laugh. "Now she'll never go to sleep!"
Riley picked Zoe up and pulled her onto her lap along with an oversized wooden puzzle. The two began playing, and Riley leaned down to nuzzle her daughter's cheek with a barrage of kisses. "Or, how about I just never miss my call again?" she said with a smile in her tone.
"Deal!" Zoe said. And just like that, they were friends again.
She sat with her best friend and her daughter for twenty minutes more, watching bad TV and reliving inside jokes with her friend before Leah turned the volume down and looked over at Riley, who was now horizontal on the couch with a napping Zoe.
"Josh called here," she said quietly, quickly, like she'd been waiting for the right moment to say it.
Riley inhaled sharply and ensured her face didn't move a muscle. Inside, she felt like the wind was just knocked out of her.
"What did he want?" Riley asked, trying to keep her voice calm. "Why did he call here? Tom didn't say anything to him about me losing my job, did he?"
"No, no, of course not! I guess he drove by the house and saw you weren't there," Leah winced. "I wasn't really sure what you wanted me to say so..."
“Oh my gosh, please tell me you didn’t tell him
“Who am I, your nemesis?” Leah said and shook her head. “Of course not! I told him you were out working, which as far as I’m concerned is what you’re doing! He said he wanted to come pick Zoe up.”
“He said what? No! He’s not coming to get her,” she huffed in an outraged whisper: a whisper that only mothers could truly master.
“I told him I couldn’t do that until you came home. What I wanted to say,” Leah began to huff, flinging her blonde hair behind her shoulder.
“Is probably not appropriate for children to hear,” Riley said with wide eyes. "Should I call him back?" she asked, feeling her heart speed up significantly.
Leah drew her ice-blonde brows together in a genuine mixture of anger and confusion. From her expression, Riley could tell she wanted to say no, but then her eyes flicked over to Zoe.
"You don't think I should?"
Leah shrugged, "I just hate that the moment he shows up, you go running. He calls, and you can't even function until you've talked to him."
"She's his daughter, too," Riley felt her face go warm, and she felt suddenly embarrassed.
"Yeah, and what are the odds that he's calling about his daughter?" Leah scoffed in a whisper. "He never calls about his daughter. He either wants money, which you can't give him, or he wants to gloat."
"Why would he want to gloat?" Riley asked sharply.
Leah's face went a shade paler, and she swallowed nervously, offering an indignant expression as she shrugged. Suddenly, Leah had nothing to say.
Leah always had something to say.
"Leah," Riley pleaded, starting to sit up and holding the back of Zoe's head in her hand as if she were still a newborn. "What is it? What do you know? Did Tom tell you something?"
"Just go call him," Leah sighed. "You know you're going to anyway."
"What is it? Please, tell me."
Leah shook her head, refusing to get involved in whatever was going on. "Go in the kitchen and use the house phone, that way he won't have your cell number. You don’t want him to have your cell number, understand?"
Riley swallowed nervously and lay Zoe down on the couch where she stirred and finally woke up, pushing herself into the corner of the couch adorably and pretending like she had never fallen asleep; she'd been watching television all along.
Making her way into the kitchen, Riley grabbed the phone off the base and speed-dialed Joshua's number out of memory, her thumb grazing across the numbers like it had done so many times before. Late night calls to sneak over, lunchtime calls just to say I love you... the call she made to him the night he didn't come home.
"Hello?"
His voice was smooth as silk, and she could practically hear him sit up straighter as she said, "It's me."
"Oh, um, hey, hold on," he said quickly and she could hear him shuffle on the other line, switching from room to room until he could find a comfortable place to sit.
Someone was there with him.
She could hear him inhale a nervous breath. If she closed her eyes, she could remember exactly how warm it felt to be next to him.
"Hey, Riley, how are you?" he said and she pictured him leaning against his porch rail.
"Fine," she said curtly, waiting for him to say something to hurt her: to reveal some impending bad news that Leah seemed to be hinting at. "Leah said you called?"
"Yeah, I drove by our old place," he began, and she made special note that he said our old place instead of her place. He was careful with his words; whether it was in an attempt to spare her feelings or to make it seem like that was still their place together, she couldn't be sure. "You... don't live there anymore?"
"Nope."
"Oh, okay," he said, now sounding irritated. "A little notice would have been nice."
Riley held her breath, wanting to scream more than she ever wanted to scream in her life, to tell him, a little notice that you were throwing our family away would have been nice. Instead, she said nothing.
"I went by Mugs as well," he spoke of her former workplace. Wow, he really must have wanted to get a hold of her.
"Well, well," she exhaled. "Someone was playing detective." She could hear a smile on the other end of the line, and she continued, "I don't work there anymore."
"Can I get your new address? New job info?"
"No," she said firmly, but as she heard his disappointed breath, her resolve cracked a little, and she cursed the niggling feeling inside her urging her to be honest with him. "I'm in-between places right now.”
Josh paused. "Really?"
"It's fine," she said quickly. "We're fine."
"Do you need some money?" He went silence and then added, “Need me to take Zoe for a while?”
She clenched her teeth. "No."
"Don't be proud, Ry. That's my daughter you have over there."
"Gee, thanks, I nearly forgot, considering you're never here."
"Oh, here we go," he sighed. "I just have a lot going on right now, Riley, you know that! Besides, every time I try and pick her up or take her for the week you flip out."
"No," she said with drawn-out vowels and found herself wildly scratching at a spot of chipped paint on Leah's front porch. "You say you'll pick her up and then you never show and I'm left with a heartbroken kid!"
"Oh geez, Riley, she's three. How broken up can she be about it?"
"Nice," she scoffed.
A familiar silence hung between them and it reminded her of the night they finally broke up: a haunting, deathly silence ringing in the air when there was nothing left to say, and the two of them unwilling to end the conversation or walk away.
She could hear Josh part his lips and he said, "Look," he paused; another breath. He was nervous, which made her nervous. "I didn't call to fight with you. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."
"We're fine," she said, feeling the urge to mother him suddenly, to let him know everything was alright so that he wouldn't worry about her or Zoe. "I put in for an apartment, and I got it," she lied. "But I have to wait three months before I can move in so... I figured it'd be better to crash with Leah and Tom, save the money..." she trailed off, feeling bad for lying and resentful that she had to explain herself to someone who never explained himself to her.
“And Zoe?” he asked.
“She’s fine but…” she blew out a breath, considering what would really be in the best interest of her daughter. “If you wanted to take her for a while, I promise I wouldn’t freak out.”
"Actually, that’s not why I was calling," he said, and by his tone, she knew he didn't believe her. "So... I wanted to te
ll you something."
She said nothing.
"Michaela is pregnant," he said as though it were all one word: a nervous, slippery announcement that left her chest feeling hollow. "And I asked her to marry me."
"Oh," she breathed.
She wanted to have the perfect reaction: to put their differences aside and wish him well. To tell him she was happy for him. Or maybe give a sarcastic show of congratulations and hang up the phone.
She wanted to come off independent, strong, and the bigger person.
Instead, she cried. Right into the phone.
"Aw, Riley..." he whispered into a sigh.
Riley leaned up against the wooden wall, pressing her back straight to the white planks and sinking down to her bottom. She pulled her knees up to her chest and sobbed into them, still holding the phone firmly at her ear.
At the sound of her crying, Leah emerged in the doorframe and gave her a sympathetic, pitying look.
She'd known.
Riley looked up and mouthed the word: why? Leah got on her knees in front of Riley and held her hand.
"I just wanted you to hear it from me," he said.
"'Kay," she said through her breaths.
It seemed like he wanted to ask something of her; his hesitation all too familiar, but whatever it was, he seemed to think better of it.
"I'm sorry, Riley," he said, and she wanted to absolutely scream. "I didn't mean to hurt you with this; I just wanted to be the one to say it because, you know, Tom knows and I figured he'd tell Leah, and she'd tell you, and then you'd both be sitting around talking about the best ways to castrate me."
Riley laughed in exhale and then cried as she inhaled again.
"We'll probably do that anyway," she said.
"Ah, well, then I guess this was all in vain," he joked lightly. "Are you okay?"
No. She wasn't okay.
She felt like her world was falling down around her. Again.
She was homeless, had been fired, wasn't getting to spend any time with Zoe, and was working a job that required her to marry a near complete stranger for money. Her life, officially, seemed like a reality show.
"I'll be fine," she said and hoped that was the truth.