Forsaken: A Brother's Best Friend Romance (Gritt Family Book 2)

by Gabrielle G.

  “Yeah, but I love you, Sis.” He shrugs. Handing me the test, he rubs my arm and asks with a wicked grin, “Are you ready for this?”

  “As ready as a single woman can be.”

  19

  Chris

  Maybe I watched Eat, Pray, Love one time too many.

  I believed traveling would help me find peace again.

  I really thought South Asia was the solution to all my problems.

  What asshole can’t enjoy motorbiking through Vietnamese mountains and swimming to a mouth’s cave?

  Apparently… me.

  As beautiful as it was, I was too much in my head to appreciate it fully.

  So, I left Vietnam faster than I thought and went to experience the beaches of Cambodia.

  Who hasn’t thought meditating on a paradisiac island wasn’t a dream? Well, it was, until I got bored out of my mind.

  My brain was still in New York, thinking of a beautiful brunette who evidently had turned my world upside down.

  I had made my peace with Jordan, telling him how much I hated to have loved him and loved hating him.

  I vented about all the things I loathed in our relationship, especially the fact that he froze Sal out, and I let him do so.

  How I allowed him to make me become part of a perfect gay couple that was a lie from the get-go because I wasn’t gay.

  I was bi and proud of it.

  But in the end, I thanked him because thanks to him, I realized something I knew but had forgotten.

  I wasn’t made for marriage and an everlasting relationship.

  At least, that’s how I felt leaving for Vietnam.

  By the time I was hiking mountains and smiling at children running next to my motorcycle, I was missing Sal.

  While I was walking through the jungle to reach one of the most secluded beaches, the only thing on my brain was Sal.

  It was the same, everywhere I went.

  Sal. Sal. Sal. Sal.

  I might have been meditating in front of the most amazing white temple in Thailand or chatting with other tourists on a cruise down the Mekong River, but I was obsessed with Sal.

  I was seeing her at every street corner, every hiking path and every grain of sand.

  Ten days ago, a creepy, disgusting Philippines bug crawled up my arm.

  After freaking out and swatting it, I found humor in the situation.

  That bug had evidently been on my arm for a while as it was near my shoulder, and I hadn’t paid attention to it until it started to scratch me.

  Then all I could think about was that bug.

  A lightbulb turned on in my head.

  Sal was my bug.

  I came to the realization that I could meet every Dharma Bum in South Asia, visit any country in the world, try anything new, it wasn’t worth it if Sal wasn’t with me.

  What I felt for her was nothing comparable to whatever feelings I had felt before.

  I tolerated her when she was a bug on my shoulder.

  I liked her when she was nothing more than my best friend’s continuously crying little sister.

  I adored her even when I ignored her, and I’ve loved her for a while now.

  I always loved her, in a very different way, but it had been love.

  It’s about time I admitted it to myself and to her.

  I didn’t care if it was too early after losing my fiancé.

  I didn’t care about what people would say.

  I thought I needed to walk away to heal, but she was the one healing me. She always accepted who I was and what I wanted. Knowing so lifted the veil I had on my mind.

  I could finally appreciate the beauty of the place I was in, the peace surrounding me, and the quietness of my mind. I had found what I was looking for.

  I’m now enjoying Indonesia and its thousands of islands.

  I could have gone home, but I still needed to finish the trip I hadn’t planned on taking.

  I had challenged myself to discover some of the most beautiful places in the world. Indonesia has always been a dream.

  Inner tubing in rivers, trekking the jungle to see orangutans, snorkeling with manta rays, hiking a volcano, seeing Komodo dragons, admiring Buddha, there is so much to do here, and I did most of it.

  I’m experiencing it all.

  I’m not sure what I’m waiting for to go home, back to her, but I know it’s not the time yet.

  I don’t believe in rushing things.

  I sent her emails, and she didn’t once reply back.

  Every time I found Wi-Fi, I logged into my email in the hope of a sign.

  Arriving at the beautiful hotel I booked on the southern tip of Bali, I do the same.

  There is still no news from home.

  Six weeks, and Sal hasn’t reached out once.

  I know what she’s doing.

  She’s the most infuriating and stubborn person I know.

  I said goodbye.

  I said I needed to be without her, so she’s giving me space.

  But now that I need her to claim me, to suffocate me with her presence, to know that as fucked up as the night we spent together was, she felt something. I need to hear she loves me as much as I love her, but she is as silent as a butterfly drifting in the wind.

  I want her to reassure me and tell me I wasn’t a complete fool to ask her to wait for me. I must know if she’s out fucking all of New York trying to forget me or if I still have a chance to be the one in her bed.

  It’s not because I unveiled my emotions toward her that she feels the same.

  That’s why I need a sign, and if I can’t get one sending short emails, maybe a long one is what she needs to bend our destiny.

  So I do.

  Dear Sal,

  I’m sorry I left.

  I tend to do that to the people I love.

  Being here without you has been torture, until I realized some things that I won’t put in an email. I want to come home, and when I say home, I mean you. I want to come back to you. I asked you to wait, but I have no clue if you did.

  Snot, I sent you emails, I showed you that you were on my mind, and you haven’t even sent a text back. I’m not sure where you’re at and what you’re thinking. I’ve been a moron. I’ve walked away from you, our friendship, us, so many times. I would understand if you didn’t want me, but I truly hope you’d give me a last chance. I’m not one to make promises; I made some to Jordan, and we both know how that fairy tale ended, but I want you in my life, more than as a friend. I want to be there for you when you wake up. I want to make you coffee and kiss you good morning as well as put you to bed and say goodnight. I want to shower you with kisses and wake up tangled in your arms again. Just give me a sign, so I know you want me to come home.

  Yours,

  Chris

  Because it’s the middle of the afternoon for me, and the middle of the night for her, I don’t expect an answer anytime soon.

  I go to the beach and enjoy floating on a hammock above the ocean waves.

  It reminds me of some verses a French guy I met in Vietnam had inked on his arm.

  He told me the poet was daydreaming about taking the woman he loves to where she belongs, to a place where they could live together.

  I researched it since then.

  The Invitation to the Voyage, by Charles Baudelaire.

  I wish I could read French to understand the splendor of it, but what the guy told me, and the numerous translations I read, make me think of Sal.

  “There, restraint and order bless.

  Luxury and voluptuousness.”

  That’s all Sal is for me, beauty to feed my soul, order for a peace of mind, voluptuousness I desire and a luxury I want to indulge in.

  I had decided while flying over the Indian Ocean that one of the first things I’d do once in New York would be to ask Luke to ink these verses on my forearm.

  For everyone to see my heart was taken and for her to understand how serious I am about us.

  The light breeze and warm
sun help me doze off in the shade of the palm trees while thinking of her.

  It’s my favorite way to fall asleep, imagining a world where Sal and I are together, without the complications that it will entail for her family, for mine or for her.

  A chime coming from my phone startles me.

  It rang a lot the first two weeks when Aaron tried to reach me. Tired of his perseverance, I sent him one text telling him I was safe and to let me be.

  I never picked up or answered his emails after that; I wasn’t ready to talk to him.

  He gave up two weeks in.

  Since then, my phone has been silent.

  Dex is the one reaching out today, and of course, my first thought is that something happened to Snot. But then, I know he would call me to announce such sad news; he wouldn’t text.

  I swipe my screen with trembling hands, still wondering why he would reach out. I read his words once, and then again to be sure I’m not dreaming while awake.

  Come Home. Sal is pregnant.

  My heart swells, my eyes fog with emotion, and I smile blissfully. If that’s not the most significant sign the Universe could send me, I don’t know what is. Cheerful, I send back the only thing I can think of. Nothing else matters. Nothing is more beautiful than knowing the woman I love is carrying my child. If I had any doubt about my feelings for her, that text just sealed the deal.

  She’s it.

  I’ll be home in two days. Itinerary to follow.

  20

  Salomé

  “So, you’re pregnant?” Luke says, his eyes full of worry.

  The news was spreading faster than the infestation of bed bugs in the city.

  Barnabas swore he’d kept my pregnancy secret, but Dex, Alane and now Luke knew. How? I had no clue.

  As usual, Dex knew everything about everyone, he rarely meddled but always wore his knowing smirk as a reminder that he could blackmail you to do anything he needed, whenever he needed.

  I was happy that he had decided he loved me.

  From stories I heard from Luke, you didn’t want to be on the wrong side of Dex if he knew something he could use.

  Alane called me out of the blue a few days after I took the test and talked to me at length about raising a child on her own.

  Our situation had nothing in common, she was a teenager, trying to finish high school, and I’m an adult with my own small business, but she thought it was vital for me to know what I was signing up for if I decided to raise my child alone.

  How did she know I was expecting? She didn’t say a word about it.

  And now Luke knew?

  I was pretty confident Dex hadn’t said anything.

  He didn’t care if my brother was the love of his life, he kept secrets like others kept their tax returns hidden.

  You’d need months, even years of arguments and paperwork before Dex would tell you a quarter of what he knew.

  “How do you know?”

  “More importantly, did you tell Chris?”

  And that was why we were meeting for brunch, at my place.

  Luke was cooking, which was rare in my family, but Aaron hadn’t been invited for the intervention my other siblings were trying to convey.

  They want me to tell Chris, and I will.

  I just want him to come home first, finish his travels and not be the reason why he shortens his trip.

  Also, I do find it unfair having to announce such news to him when he’s so far away and I can’t see his reaction.

  How do you text someone and tell him you’re pregnant?

  Or should I write it in an email?

  He’d said in his email he wanted a sign. Was this what he needed?

  If I had received his email last week, I would have just texted him that I missed him as well and to take his time to come home because I wasn’t going anywhere.

  Now?

  I don’t know if I want him to come back.

  As long as he’s in the Philippines—at least I guess, that’s where he was as his last email was from there—I don’t have to deal with telling him I’m carrying his child.

  I need time to understand what we are to each other, and what I want from him.

  His email was telling me he wanted us to give it a try, but he also said he didn’t want to make promises.

  The moment I tell him I’m pregnant, he’ll make promises to me, that's just who he is.

  I know he won’t walk away and will be part of the life of his child.

  I wouldn’t be giving him much choice anymore.

  I would be, in a way, trapping him into being in my life.

  So, I can give him a little more time to enjoy his freedom halfway across the world.

  “I take your silence as a no.” Luke flips the eggs and starts to whistle.

  “Let her be, Luke. If I were in her situation, I wouldn’t want the guy to come back just because he pities me.”

  “Yeah, Barn, you can totally relate to being impregnated by the love of your life while he’s miles away and not know if he would ever love you because of you or the child you’re about to share. Your uterus and large experience in relationships can totally help you in the situation Sal is going through!” Alane deadpans behind my little brother.

  “Ouch,” Barn answers. “Let me remove that arrow from my heart,” he mimics dramatically.

  As usual, my family is commenting on my life without really letting me take part in the conversation.

  Neither Alane nor Barnabas was wrong, but I still wish they would keep their opinions to themselves.

  I almost want Aaron to be here. He would be brooding on my sofa, and I could have sat next to him and wait for everyone to weigh in while keeping him company. But, I’m not sure what his reaction is going to be, and seeing that his wife is keeping my pregnancy from him for the moment, the others aren’t either.

  “Where is Dex?” I ask, sitting at the bar and waiting for my guests to serve me food. They insist I shouldn’t do anything, and I’m glad I don’t have to be the perfect hostess to people who invited themselves over.

  “Picking up something,” Luke replies. “He said to start without him.”

  “When are you telling Ridge and Bella?”

  “After I hit the twelve-week mark, if Chris is home and I’ve told him by then.”

  “If you’ve told him by then? Let’s not have another Aar and Captain story here. You will tell him as soon as you see him, right?” Luke insists while preparing the plates. Aaron and Alane—Captain for Luke—did have many secrets from one another. My stomach churns at the idea of not telling Chris about the baby.

  “Of course, I’ll tell him! But I’m not shortening his trip and telling him he could become a father if he wants to via text. It’s not happening.”

  “But if he was in front of you, you would tell him, right? You wouldn’t want to keep it a secret…” Luke puts a plate in front of me, scratching his beard.

  There is as much mischief in his eyes as there is worry.

  “What did you do, Gritt?” Alane inquires.

  “Nothing.” Dex’s voice surges in from behind me. “I did.”

  I don’t need to turn around to know he’s not alone.

  The atmosphere has shifted from laid-back to awkward, and my super powerful sense of smell that developed with the pregnancy would recognize Chris’ scent anywhere.

  My heartbeat is bound to explode in my ears, and a massive wave of emotion and nausea takes over my body, rushing me into the bathroom as morning sickness hits me hard again.

  Passing by Chris, he tries to stop me or talk to me, but I can’t stop or look at him. I feel betrayed, stupid, ashamed and horny at the same time, and all I want is to hug the toilet bowl and never let it go.

  “You said she knew I was coming!” Chris shouts in the corridor.

  “Well, she should have! Beardy?” Dex snaps turning toward Luke.

  “I didn’t have time, babe. She woke up late and was throwing up a lot this morning. Then when she finally came o
ut, I tried to approach the subject, but these two kept piping in! And I told you it was a bad idea!” Luke defends himself.

  I close my eyes to chase the queasiness away.

  “Sal, can I come in?” The sickness is back. This has nothing to do with my hormones but everything to do with the man behind the door and the situation we’re in.

  “Just give me a minute, Chris.” But he doesn’t listen and slides into the bathroom before getting on the floor next to me. I hunch forward, dipping my head deeper in the toilet to avoid him.

  “Do you want a push to hide further away from me?” Chris touches my back, and his hand electrifies me like it never did before. He slowly reaches the back of my neck, and his thumb starts to massage me.

  “Talk to me, Snuggles.” I slowly back away from the toilet and turn to him. I focus on his shirt, still not able to look him in the eyes.

  “Snuggles? Sounds like the name of a puddle. What happened to Snot?”

  He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear and then drags me onto his lap.

  “Doesn’t seem fitting for the mother of my child,” he says, kissing the top of my head. My heart breaks.

  The mother of his child.

  The little sister of his best friend.

  That’s all I am and will ever be.

  He said he couldn’t promise anything, and I didn’t want him to feel like he owed me, but once I’m here in front of the fact, it still hurts like a bitch.

  I turn away and try to get up.

  “Hey, look at me.” I shake my head.

  How many times can you let the same man break your heart?

  “Sal, I need you to look at me.”

  Sighing, I open my eyes and gather the courage to look at his eyes. They’re blue today, and he’s hurting.

  I know he has many questions for me, and I can’t stand up to the pain I inflicted on him, but I hold his gaze nonetheless.