Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Clover
Poppy stepped inside my house. “Wow, it’s small.”
I shot her a scowl. “You say that every time.”
“I’ve only been here once.”
She’d stopped by another time to give me some presents to hide from her family. According to her, Jensen had accidentally found her stash twice. “I know it’s small, but it’s all I need.”
She didn’t follow up on her dubious look and held up a paper bag that smelled delicious. The Rattler’s logo—a rattlesnake around a beer mug—was on the outside. “Girls’ night.”
Grinning, I led her to the kitchen. “Girls’ night is going to end much earlier than it used to.”
“Us soon-to-be mamas gotta get our beauty sleep.”
My gasp rattled the walls. “Is that your way of telling me you’re pregnant?”
She nodded furiously. “Yes!”
I clutched her arms and we jumped around, screeching and cheering. This was how it was supposed to be. Good news. Joy. Celebrating. I didn’t get this reveal, but I’d give it to her.
“I’m so happy for you,” I cried. “I have so many questions, but let’s eat first.”
When we were seated at the table, and I had a container with steak bites and mashed potatoes opened in front of me, I inhaled a contented breath. “Smells delicious.”
“Haven’t you been eating well?” She dropped her gaze to my belly like it was going to shrink right in front of her as a testament to how much I didn’t cook for myself.
“Yes. Not quite like when I was living with Van, but I cook.” I stuck a fork into a steak bite.
“If Van hadn’t come over the other night, I would be so sick of spaghetti leftovers.
I miss going out once in a while. I should see if he’s free one night.
Maybe New Year’s Eve.” I stuffed the food into my mouth and groaned over the flavor.
Poppy stared at me.
“What?” I asked around my savory mouthful.
“That’s a lot of Van you’re talking about.”
“He’s a friend.”
A brown brow ticked up. “He’s your ex-husband.”
Don’t remind me. “You know what that was about.”
She took a bite of her mashed potatoes, but her gaze didn’t stray from me.
I didn’t know what to say without inciting more questions about him. If I talked too much, Poppy would keep digging until she found the rare gem that was how I felt about him and had kept buried nice and deep.
I continued to gobble my dinner. “How are you feeling?” I asked around a bite.
Her expression turned stubborn. “Avoiding the subject won’t help.”
“I’m not avoiding anything.”
She pushed her food away and crossed her arms. “How close did you get?”
“I told you. We’re friends.”
“I didn’t believe you then. So you were messing around and caught feelings.”
She read me too easily—or thought she did. But she was happily married and settled in life. I was embarking on a new adventure. She didn’t understand. She took care of herself before she got with Jensen. I was the one with something to prove.
“We lived together.” Why was I insisting on downplaying everything?
Talking about it might make me process everything, help me move on from reliving so much of the months we lived together.
“Okay, yes. I really like him. He’s who I should’ve been with from the beginning, but it’s too late.
Now I have a life to build, and so does he. I’m not holding him back.”
“Is that what you think you’d be doing?”
“You don’t know his history, but he’s lost everything before. Because of a woman. Because of his brother.”
She dropped her fork and leaned toward me. “So now you’re both just going to be lonely because of that douche?”
“Yes! Wait—no? That’s not what it is.” How wasn’t it? The reason seemed important. “I’m trying not to be dependent on a guy, yet the guy I wouldn’t mind leaning on can leave at any moment, and he probably will. He should. He deserves it.”
Her back thumped against the chair. “I can’t believe I didn’t know you were going through all this.”
“You have your own life.”
“But you didn’t talk to me.”
“Van had to message you last time.” I didn’t mean to say it so bitterly, but there it was.
I pressed my fingertips to my temples. “Sorry. We’re both adults with our own lives.
I clamped myself to Elijah, and it was the worst decision of my life.
” But it was also the best. I was in the town I grew up in with the rest of my family.
I had a good job. I was going to be a mom.
So many changes. “At the very least, it was life changing.”
“Are you afraid he’s going to be like Elijah?” Sympathy shimmered in her eyes.
There was no way Van would ever be like his brother. “I’m telling you that he’ll be so successful that he’ll run his work online, move to the Bahamas, and never look back.”
“Is that what he said?”
No. He was staying in Coal Haven. But for how long? “You’re missing the point. He can do anything now. He was stuck living at home with his awful parents after his ex slept with Elijah and blew up the first company.”
“Elijah fucked his brother’s girlfriend?”
I nodded. My righteous rage was satisfied at how scandalized my sister sounded. “Van’s a catch. Any girl he lands would be so damn lucky.”
“But you caught him.”
“No, I didn’t,” I mumbled, miserable. We talked about him finding his soulmate. “I’m not going to manipulate him like everyone else has in his life. He’s important to me, and that’s why I’m not going to tie him down.”
She crossed her arms, her food forgotten. “What if he’s lying down and holding the ropes?”
I scoffed and pushed mashed potatoes around. “He’s not.”
“He’s living in Coal Haven, and Jasper’s moving in with him,” she said pointedly.
“It’s his launchpad.”
She shook her head. “You’re just afraid.”
Terrified, but that wasn’t the real issue.
“Poppy, if he fell head over heels in love, don’t you think he would’ve said so?
He hasn’t. He’s been a good friend. He’s a red-blooded male who wanted sex.
Then he moved into his own place. I’m not throwing myself at a guy just to bounce off him.
I’m not putting myself in that position again.
I’m making my own home, saving my own money, and raising this kid with only my name on the birth certificate. ”
“Oh, Clover. I would hate for you to miss out on something really special because of what Elijah did.”
“Bean is special. I’ll have that.”
She drew her brows together. “I don’t like it.”
Neither did I, but Van seemed satisfied with how everything was going, and that was without me as his girlfriend. “I’m happy, and we’re still friends. He was over the other night for dinner, and we kept our hands off each other.” It seemed easy for him. “He’s coming over for Christmas Eve.”
“What’s he doing on Christmas Day?”
“I don’t know.” It was like I was breathing through a damp washcloth. I wasn’t his wife, and I didn’t get to know his plans. “Maybe he’s found someone already.”
“Pssht. He has not.”
“He turned down your invite, and he hasn’t said what he’s doing. It’s not my business.” Either it was another woman, or he didn’t want to be with me. Didn’t matter which one, the outcome was the same.
She let out a small sigh. “And you’re ringing in New Year’s Day alone?”
“It’ll be better than last year.” I’d been recovering from bronchitis, and Elijah had insisted he couldn’t go out with friends alone. For some reason, staying home alone with me hadn’t been an option, so I’d let him drag me out.
She exhaled a gusty sigh. “I guess if it works.”
“Yes, it does. We’re friends.”
She picked up her fork and stabbed into a piece of beef. “You’re so stubborn.”
For the security of me and Bean, yes, I would be.
Van
My third attempt at wrapping the present for Clover was the best. The seams were still crooked, but it was covered. I held it and knocked on her door.
She opened it, dressed in an oversized cream knit sweater and red plaid leggings. Her hair was gathered behind her in a loose bun.
My mouth went dry. “Damn.”
She looked behind her. “The tree? It’s sad, isn’t it?”
What tree? Behind her was a small tree that didn’t reach two feet tall. The fake green needles were barely visible under the garland and silver and red ornaments.
“The tree isn’t sad at all. It matches you.” Only I didn’t want to strip the tree down. I didn’t want to lift its garland and see how big the baby belly had gotten. I didn’t want to frame my hands around the tree and imagine a life with it.
But she was thriving on her own. Her cheeks glowed, and she looked as sweet as a Christmas cookie.
“Come in.”
When I stepped inside, a familiar smell reached my nose. “Oh good, the pizza arrived.”
“Thank you for doing that.”
“No problem.” I passed her the gift, wincing at the crooked wrapping.
“I knew it. I got you something too.” She smiled and put the gift under the tree next to another box of a similar size.
“You thought I’d come over on Christmas Eve without a gift?”
“No, and that’s why I made sure to get you something. I would’ve anyway though.”
I knew that too. I followed her into the kitchen. She’d put up a few drawings on the fridge. One was from Auggie of Santa with a soccer ball, and another from Cali of a Christmas tree with a bright star above it. A third was hard to make out, much less have a signature of any kind.
“I like your decorations.”
“Thank you. I kept it low-key this year. Next year, they’ll have to be babyproof.”
A radiant Clover with a seven-month-old crawling around wasn’t the gut punch I expected, but I had to put a hand to my stomach. I’d better fucking be here for that.
By this time next year, would she be ready to let a guy into her life? Into Bean’s? In more than an uncle capacity?
You might meet your soulmate.
Those words had killed a lot of lingering hope inside me, but clearly not all of it had been shut down.
Buddy.
Fuck me.