37. Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-seven
Shira
The knock on my door made my heart flutter, and it had only just calmed down. I tried not to show my disappointment when Bea was the one standing on my porch.
“Hey, you,” I greeted.
Her eyes narrowed. “You look like shit. What gives?”
My laugh came out as more of a sob, but that was because I’d only just conquered my tears as well. It had taken two hours and a batch of muffins to make my chin stop quivering. The fact that I’d made them just how Roman liked them—overloaded with cinnamon—hadn’t helped matters.
“I’m an absolute mess, Beatrice.”
Her face crumpled. “Oh, honey.” Then she was inside my house with her arms around me. “What’s wrong? I hate seeing you cry. It physically pains me.”
I sniffled into her hair, which magically smelled like blueberries. “Roman always says that.”
That was all it took for me to fall apart. Bea walked me over to the couch and let me cry on her shoulder, all while she patted my arm and hummed a familiar song. My friend wasn’t naturally touchy-feely, which meant I truly looked as hopeless as I felt.
My crying petered off into periodic hiccups and little gasps, allowing me to listen to the song Bea was humming.
“Are you humming ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’?” I asked.
“Mmmhmm. I find it more soothing than ‘Twinkle, Twinkle.’ And look, you stopped crying. My girl is a Queen fan.”
Laughing, I sat up and wiped my cheeks with the backs of my hands. Bea raked her eyes over me, concern crinkling her brow.
“I came over to ask if you wanted to grab dinner before I remembered Roman was coming back today.” She glanced around. “Is his flight delayed? Is that what’s got you down?”
“No, he’s back.”
Her eyes rounded. “Then why aren’t you with him? You’ve been fiending for him all week.”
I sucked in a breath, and it hurt. My throat felt like it was filled with broken glass while my chest was being squeezed in a vise. But I had to talk this out, and Bea would give it to me straight. She didn’t know any other way.
“I went over to his house, but he was with another woman.”
Bea went from zero to a hundred in two seconds flat. Her face flushed cherry-bomb red, and she sprung from the couch, her arms flinging outward.
“He what ? Are you kidding me? Oh, that guy—that fucking guy. Where is he?” She marched toward my door then spun around. “I can’t believe him. I fully trusted him—”
“Wait—why are you so mad?”
Her eyes looked close to falling out of her head. “Uh…are you kidding me, Shira? That handsome bastard is cheating on you when you’re growing his giant son! How could I not be mad?”
I scooted forward. “Do you think Roman and I are together?”
She slapped her forehead. “Well, I hope not now. God, I’m going to throttle him.”
“We were together?” I whispered.
Hands on her hips, Bea stared at me for a long time. “Okay, what is going on? Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”
“The woman was a family friend. Nothing was happening, but I thought it was, and I told them I would leave to give them privacy. Roman was not happy with me.”
Her jaw dropped, leaving her mouth hanging open. “Why in the world would you do that?”
“Because we never talked about any of this. We’re together all the time, but I never thought we were a couple. The only thing we ever said was we would be friends—which we are.”
“Shira,” Bea breathed, her fingers flying to her mouth.
“I told him he’s only with me because of Beanie.”
“Oh, Shira.” She shook her head like I’d said something tragic.
“He’s Roman Wells.” Bea just stared at me, waiting for me to elaborate. So, I did. “You’ve seen him. He’s tall and so handsome, he takes my breath away, a former pro athlete with insanely thick thighs and glorious veins in his forearms, outrageously successful, and kind. Really, truly kind. That kindness is why he’s with me. If not for Beanie, he’d have nothing to do with me.”
“Wow. I’ve never heard one person be so incredibly wrong.”
“Which part?”
She waved her hands in a wide circle. “All of it, babe. You named a lot of that man's good qualities as if they’re reasons for the two of you not to be together, but to me, you just made a list of why he’s approaching good enough for you.”
Is it not good enough? Is that why you can’t feel it?
“That isn’t it at all.”
She puffed her cheeks and blew out a powerful breath. “Let’s get real. The bean was the catalyst, forcing you and Roman to get to know each other on a very raw, gritty level. From what I’ve seen, you more than liked what you found in him, and he obviously liked the hell out of what he found in you. After all, the man isn’t dim.”
“We like each other. We’re friends.”
“Okay, he isn’t dim, but maybe you are.”
I scrunched my nose at her. “That isn’t nice. I’m sad. You’re supposed to be comforting me.”
“Why would I comfort you when you’re screwing everything up?”
“Bea, come on,” I whispered, exhausted from the war brewing within me.
“What else did he say? Just spill it.”
Shaking my head, I got up from the couch and started for the kitchen. “He said a lot of really lovely things I can’t let myself believe.”
I started transferring the muffins from the tin I’d baked them in to a plate. I had no idea why I’d baked these since this recipe didn’t taste good to me. Roman and his brothers loved it, but I doubted he’d accept anything from me now.
Bea stopped on the other side of the island. “Like what?”
“Like he’s fallen in love with me. He hasn’t, though. He loves the baby, and once he’s here, he’ll see that. He didn’t like when I told him that, but I can’t, Bea—if I let that in, I’ll fall apart when he takes it away.”
“Shira, god…” Bea shook her head. “What is wrong with you?”
My chin quivered as I looked at my friend across from me. Bea was something of a black cat, swatting at people who annoyed her, but she’d never been anything but sweet and gentle with me—except now.
Now, she seemed like she was pissed off.
“What?” I asked.
“You can’t just tell someone they don’t know their own feelings. It would be one thing if you didn’t feel the same for him, but I’ve seen the two of you together. I know when two people are stupidly in love, and that’s you and Roman.”
“We’re friends,” I insisted, though my defense didn’t ring true—even to me.
“I’m not going to ask why you think you’re not worthy of a big, passionate love. You settled for a sexless marriage to a man you might have loved, but there’s no denying he definitely took advantage of your age and position. But you’re older, a shit ton richer, and you don’t have to settle anymore. Why in the world are you not letting Roman love you?”
I can’t think of how to love you harder other than cutting my heart out and showing you your name carved in every chamber. But what if that’s not enough?
“He’s beautiful,” I replied weakly.
“And so are you. Not every kind of beauty has to scream.” She stole a muffin from the plate and peeled the wrapper. “Your kind of beauty is a whisper. The closer you pay attention to it, the more you understand and become attuned to it. And once you are, you can’t believe you didn’t notice it in the first place.”
My eyes burned so badly, I had to squeeze them shut for relief. “That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“I’m certain Roman’s said sweeter things.”
“It’s strange waking up and not heading to your house. I think I’ve gotten used to you, Shira.”
“You give me this body, I will fucking worship it.”
“Have you seen how beautifully you’re growing our son? You can handle anything.”
“You can be a mess with us.”
“… you have become everything to me.”
A different kind of wave crashed into me, knocking down my flimsy barriers and flooding me with Roman’s words, smiles, gentle caresses, and all the soft looks he’d given me. There was friendship behind all of it—and so much more. It had been that way for months and months, and I’d refused to see it. My brain had decided enough was enough and gave it all to me at once.
“He has,” I agreed, leaning over the counter to catch my breath. “He’s said so many lovely things to me.”
“You’ve deserved every one of them. It’s your time, Shira. If you don’t really live, what was the point of everything you did to survive?”
I almost staggered from the weight of her question. What was the point of what my mom had endured and what I’d been through to get here if I didn’t make the most of what I now had?
Bea took a big bite of her muffin. She chewed twice then her face morphed into a look of horror. Bright red eyes rounded, and her mouth puckered in disgust. Then she ran for the sink, spitting violently. I followed her, worried she was choking. When she stuck her mouth under the faucet, I realized that wasn’t the case.
“Oh my god,” she cried between huge gulps of water. “Something’s wrong with those muffins. Don’t eat them. Throw them away immediately.”
“There’s nothing wrong with them. Roman and his brothers love them.”
Bea straightened, snatching a towel to wipe off her face. “No human being could love those muffins. They’re vile.”
I folded my arms over my bump. “The Wells brothers do. They all eat everything I cook.”
She shook her head. “There’s half a container of cinnamon in them. Did you make a mistake when you were mixing the ingredients?”
“No. Well, the first time I made them, I added too much, but Roman loved them. He seems to really love it when I add a lot of extra garlic and pepper to his dinner too. It doesn’t taste good to me, but he always clears his plate. Even Adrian devoured my ginger cookies. And that time I ran out of sugar, I used extra ginger to make up for it…”
I trailed off, considering what I was saying. None of the food I’d made for Rome and his brothers had tasted right to me, but he’d insisted it was delicious. He’d also done most of the cooking lately.
“So, Roman eats your disgusting cooking and tells you it’s delicious?” Bea snorted. “If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. He has it bad for you, Shira.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh my god. He hates my cooking and eats it anyway so he doesn’t hurt my feelings because he despises when I cry!”
“He loves you.”
“He loves me,” I whispered.
She knocked on my forehead. “Glad it finally sank in. Now, get your butt in gear and get your man. Don’t make him wait.”
“You need to make the most of this life you’ve got, Shira. Grab it with both hands.”
I picked up the plate of muffins. “Here goes nothing.”