by Eden Finley
I saw her for the first time in eight years in the juice aisle at Trader Joe’s. My heart thudded to a stop and then sped up. My feet stalled, and the breath knocked out of me.
My sharp intake of breath made her glance up at me from her bent over position where she compared juice brands.
Her eyes met mine and widened in recognition. The box of juice she held fell to the floor, exploding on impact and covering her in orange liquid.
I hated that she was still beautiful. I hated even more that she looked well. Her long blonde hair was like silk, and her skin was flawless. She had piercing blue eyes I couldn’t drag my gaze away from. In my head, she’d become a strung-out, skinny-ass junkie with track marks on her arms and bags under her eyes. I hadn’t heard that was the way her life went, but I’d fantasised about it.
Shit, that made me a horrible person.
“G-Gage,” she whispered.
Our eyes were locked, neither of us willing to look away.
“Wrong aisle,” I stammered and turned on my heel.
“Wait!”
I froze, unwillingly, somehow stuck in the hold Lucy always had over me. When I spun back to face her, she was closer.
My nostrils flared, and my jaw hardened.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I … I heard you were back, but I—”
“Didn’t have the balls to face me.”
“I didn’t think you’d want—”
“You’re right. I don’t. I should get home. Odie needs me.”
I tried to leave but couldn’t. There was so much I wanted to say to her but didn’t realise it until that very moment.
“How is he doing?” she asked. “I wanted to go to the funeral—”
“Like you care?”
“That’s not fair, Gage.”
I scoffed. “Not fair? Want to talk about what’s not fair?”
Tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough for you.” Her voice came out as a whisper. “But you didn’t make it easy on me either.”
“Easy?”
“You got out of this town. You joined the military and left me to defend you against everyone here. You left me with my parents who forced me to give up the one thing I wanted. I wanted everything with you.”
I stepped closer and lowered my voice so I wouldn’t yell. “Yeah, and while I was out earning money to create the life we wanted, you were fucking my best friend. So, don’t play the victim card here.”
“I had nothing! I only had you, and you were gone. Jason … Jason was an escape from having to put on a fake smile every damn night as I sat at the dinner table with the very people who forced me to abort our child.”
Well, fuck. I’d never focused on what I left behind for her to deal with when I was in the army.
“I was young and scared and alone, and the one person who was supposed to be there was away fighting a war, when he should’ve been at home fighting our war.”
“It’s not like you or your family gave me much choice in the matter.”
“Jason and I didn’t mean to go behind your back, and I didn’t mean to fall for him.”
Just like I didn’t mean to fall for Pip. I ran a hand through my hair.
“I never did … I mean, not fully,” she said. “I loved him because of Gemma, but that wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough. He could never replace what we—”
“Don’t say it. I don’t think I can handle it.”
“Are you at least happy? I told myself that as long as you escaped this place and got your life together, being miserable would be worth it.”
I was prepared to rip into her—tell what my life had really been like for the last eight years.
Lonely.
Angry.
Withdrawn.
But that was when I noticed I must’ve had Lucy-goggles on at first glance. She was beautiful, yes, but up close, she looked a lot older than twenty-eight. The sides of her blonde hair were streaked with nearly invisible grey. Her eyes were dull, and she had frown lines. We’d both been miserable these last eight years, but there was one huge difference: I was happy now. I had the woman I was supposed to be with all along.
The heartache I suffered from Lucy was a necessity. A sucky one—but necessary.
For the first time in God knew how long, I smiled at Lucy.
“So glad my misery makes you happy,” she grumbled.
“It’s not that. Although, it does make me feel better that I wasn’t the only one suffering.”
She sniffed and closed her eyes. “God, I’m so sorry. I will always be sorry. But at the same time, I can’t be.” Lucy stared over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t change Gemma for the world.”
Right. Her kid. The kid that was supposed to be mine. The kid that could’ve been mine.
So much what-if, could’ve been, and supposed to be. It didn’t matter anymore.
“I was smiling because you’re right. I am happy now. Pip makes it worth it.”
“Is she your …”
“She’s my future. I’m going to marry her.” She wasn’t on board yet, but I didn’t need to say that aloud.
Lucy’s smile was faint. “Congratulations.” She sniffed again, and the urge to hug her and wipe away her tears pissed me off. I could hate her all I wanted, but that didn’t stop my protective instincts coming out when it came to Lucy. I hated that too.
“Mom! Look what I found.” A young girl came bounding up to us. She had Lucy’s blonde hair, but her face was all Jason—in a feminine way. I wondered what she would’ve looked like with my genes, but I had to look away before the pain became too much. “Can I pleeeease get it?” She held up a jumbo chocolate bar.
Lucy’s eyes flicked between her daughter’s and mine.
“I’m gonna go,” I said. “Good to see you again.”
As I walked away, I realised I wasn’t lying.
Clarity. That fucker was a bitch.
Even worse? Having to admit to Pip that she was right.
I thought I didn’t need closure when it came to Lucy. Turned out, I already had it. I just needed Lucy to make me realise it.
I had to get home to Pip. The sooner the better. I refused to live without her anymore.
Arriving back at Odie’s place, I stayed in the car while I contemplated how to handle this. He needed to come with me, but I didn’t want to buy a ticket until I was sure he’d agree to come.
I had to act like he had no other choice.
Groceries in hand, I walked into the house with my head held high and pretended to be confident in my words. “Bad news, old man. I need to go home. I need to see Pip, because being away from her is killing me.” I kept talking in a jumbled rush and avoided eye contact as I packed away everything in the bags. “And you’re coming with me. No arguments. I’ve already booked you a flight and you can come home in a couple of weeks. You need to get away.”
I heard him come into the kitchen, but I still refused to look at him. I couldn’t lie to Odie. He always saw right through it.
“When do we leave?” His voice was off.
My eyes flew to his, and I immediately knew something was wrong. His skin was pale, his eyes were red and puffy, and his hand shook. He was holding my phone—I must’ve left it when I went out.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s … it’s Pip.”
I stumbled and caught the edge of the kitchen bench to hold me up. “What happened?” I asked again.
“We have to get you home.”
Déjà vu hit like a fucking freight train. “I’ll get us on the next flight.”
21
- PIP -
It started with a headache, the slight dull pounding of someone trying to hack a hole into my head.
I’d been on bedrest for over a month, but I made everyone promise not to tell Gage. He’d only worry, and there was literally nothing we could do about my condition other than rest. I was working from home, and Blair didn’t leave
my side all day. Every day.
I loved Garrett and Blair, but fuck, living with their overbearing protectiveness of their child was hard.
I called out for them, because I definitely felt off. They were staying in Gage’s room—which I hadn’t even realised was Gage’s room until the guys pointed out all his shit in there. I had to laugh that he’d moved in without my knowledge and without telling me. Should’ve been pissed, but he did it so stealthily, I had to give him props for it. I had no doubt it was going to happen eventually, but he was waiting for me to bring it up.
Garrett got to me first, only wearing boxer briefs. “What’s wrong?”
I covered my face. “My eyes for one thing. Don’t you have clothes?”
He laughed. “Come on, you can’t say you don’t want a piece of this.” He gestured down his body.
“Gage’s muscles are more impressive. Sorry.”
“What’s up?” Garrett asked, more serious now.
“I have a headache.”
“Where’s the blood pressure cuff?”
“I think in the living room?” I went to get out of bed, but he stopped me.
“I’ll get it.” He disappeared, and there was the sound of him ruffling around. “I can’t find it,” he called out.
“What’s wrong?” Blair asked, appearing in my doorway.
“Just a headache, but it’s bad. Like when I was diagnosed.”
I was at work a month ago, and I wasn’t feeling well. Garrett came to take me to lunch, but when I stood, I almost fainted. I thought I was hungry or dehydrated. Turned out it was pre-eclampsia.
“We won’t risk it,” Blair said. “They said if you got any more symptoms to go to the hospital.”
When I stood, my ankles caught my attention. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“My feet are the size of an elephant’s.”
“Garrett, call an ambulance,” Blair called out.
Ah, shit.
***
“Who’s ready to have a baby?” the doctor asked.
“Not me,” Garrett said.
Blair rubbed his husband’s back soothingly. “You’re ready. You’re just freaking out.”
“It’s too early,” I said.
“You’re thirty-five weeks,” the doctor said. “I’m afraid it’s close enough. Your blood pressure’s too high, and there’s double the protein in your urine than there was at your last check-up. If we don’t deliver today, both you and the baby will be in jeopardy.”
“What about the baby being premature?” Blair asked. “What are the risks?”
“Right now, it’s more of a risk to keep the baby in there. Once we deliver, we’ll know more. At least a day in the NICU, maybe more. But thirty-five weeks is a lot better than thirty-four or thirty-one.” He squeezed my shoulder. “You did a great job of going this long from your last trip here. We’re getting the operating theatre ready as we speak. Won’t be a long wait and you get to meet your baby.”
Holy shit, I was having a baby. Not my baby, but a baby.
When the doctor left the room, all three of us were stunned into silence.
“We’re going to be dads today,” Garrett said and then started hyperventilating.
“Why’s he getting antsy? He’s not the one who’s going to be cut open,” I said.
Blair smirked. “He always hyperventilates when he tries new things. Should’ve seen him the first time we—”
“Don’t even say it,” Garrett said.
Their antics were the distraction I needed. I did a stupid, stupid thing a few weeks back and watched birthing videos. Since being diagnosed with pre-eclampsia, I knew the chances of natural delivery were small, so I’d researched C-sections. Totally the wrong thing to do. The blood, how rough the doctors were …
I fused my eyes shut.
Blair’s laughter died. “Pip, you okay?”
I nodded but didn’t open my eyes. “Can they knock me out for the whole cutting me into pieces thing?”
“Hey, you’ll be fine.” Garrett said, his panic attack gone and replaced with a voice I was sure would become his fatherly, soothing voice while trying to calm their baby. “Look at it this way. At least your vag—”
“Almost got a sincere moment out of him,” Blair said. “And we’ll be in there with you.”
“I want Gage,” I whimpered.
“We’ll call him, but you know it’ll take a few days for him to get home,” Blair said.
“I know.”
Blair got me my phone, but Gage didn’t answer.
I didn’t know if it was the headache and the pre-eclampsia symptoms or if it was nerves that were making me feel sick, but I had a bad feeling about going into surgery before speaking to Gage.
Unfortunately for me, that wasn’t an option when they came to wheel me down to the operating theatre.
They attached me to machines, put in a spinal block, and waited for me to become numb from the waist down.
Blair and Garrett were right beside me, wearing surgical hats and scrubs.
The shakes started not long after they started with the “procedure.” Regardless of the anaesthesiologist telling me it was a normal side effect, I couldn’t help worrying something was wrong.
My mind blurred, and I found it hard to breathe. Machines beeped erratically around me, and voices were muffled.
Light shone in my eyes, but I couldn’t squint the brightness away.
A single sentence cut through the sterile air.
“She’s having a seizure.”
22
- GAGE -
“Doesn’t anyone answer their fucking phones anymore?” I yelled when we hit LAX. I about threw my phone against the wall.
“If they’re at the hospital, they won’t have their phones on,” Odie said.
“Is it so hard to send an update?” The whole flight to L.A., my knee bounced, and I anticipated a slew of messages when we landed.
Nothing.
The flight attendants all thought I was a nervous flyer.
Even now, security gave me the stink eye, probably thinking I was some sort of terrorist with my erratic breathing and ball of nervous energy.
After trying both Garrett and Blair again, I changed tactic and called Reece.
“Gage?” she answered, her voice croaky.
“Shit, what time is it over there?” I had no idea what time zone I was in anymore.
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“Do you know what’s going on at the hospital?”
There was a pause.
“Reece—”
“What was the last you heard?”
“Pip was heading in for an emergency C-section because she had something called pre … something.”
“Pre-eclampsia. She was diagnosed about a month ago and put on bedrest.”
“A month?” I screeched in a voice that didn’t sound like my own. “They never said anything—wait, is that why Garrett and Blair moved in?”
“There was nothing to worry about then …”
“But there is now? Reece, just tell me what’s going on. I’m going crazy, and the guys aren’t answering their phones.”
“They’ve been awake for something like forty hours straight. Cut them some slack. They have a newborn in the NICU, and a … a, umm …”
“Reece,” I barked.
“There were complications. I don’t want to freak you out, but letting you wonder is probably worse than telling you the truth, right?”
Spencer’s deep voice came muffled through the phone. “Baby, don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Fuck, this sucked. I had no control over this situation, and I was about to lose my shit.
“She’s in an induced coma,” Reece said. “She had a seizure on the table …” Her words got drowned out by the hammering in my ears.
Words like induced coma and seizure repeated in my head over and over and over again.
“Gage? Did you hear me?” Reece asked. “Did the phon
e cut out?”
“W-what?”
“They say she’s going to be fine,” Reece said calmly. “She just needs rest so her body can heal. There’s nothing you can do from where you are, and even if you were here, there wouldn’t be any more for you to do but be by her side which is where Garrett and Blair have been for two days straight. I was there earlier, but they aren’t letting anyone else in to see her or the new bub because she was preemie. So, focus on getting home, and I’ll get one of the jackasses to call you when they get the chance.”
“I’m about to board a flight from L.A. I’ll be home in thirteen hours. More with customs and everything, but …” I took a deep breath and willed the tears away. “If she wakes up before I get there, tell her I’m trying, okay? I’ll be home soon.”
“She’s going to be fine,” Reece repeated.
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me.
“We’ll see you when you get back. Do you need a lift? I can pick you up.”
I let out a relieved breath. “Yes, please.”
“Text me your flight details, and I’ll be there.”
“Thanks, Reece.”
I ended the call, and all the anger was gone. All that was left was a shell of a person, and I suddenly found myself in Odie’s shoes. God, how was that man even standing?
As if on cue, my knees buckled, and I fell into a seat outside the departure gate.
“Any news?” Odie asked.
“She’s …” I sobbed.
“Holy shit. What happened?”
“Complications. Coma.”
“She going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. I can’t lose her. I can’t—”
Odie’s arm came around my shoulder. “I know. Trust me, I know. We’ll know more when we get there.”
I didn’t want to think about it, because that made me obsess, but I couldn’t get those words out of my head.
Complications.
Induced coma.
Baby in NICU.
It was too early. This wasn’t supposed to happen for another month. No, this wasn’t supposed to happen at all.
The future I’d envisioned with Pip was slipping through my fingers. Fuck, what if she didn’t even make it out of the coma?