Chapter 37
Gail
T he smell of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee and tea fills the air, a domestic symphony that feels like a mockery this morning as I sit at the breakfast table, flanked by Mickey and Soren. Their chatter about gym routines and deadlifts washing over me, making it clear they’re oblivious to the turmoil churning inside me, to the dread stretching my smile into a thin, brittle line.
They finish their food, unaware that each bite marks a countdown to the moment I’ve been dreading since they told me about the ruse with the owner of Cupid’s Court last night. My heart hammers in my chest as they push back their chairs and stand. This is it. Goodbye.
“Off to pump iron, then?” I ask, standing up with them, the act as natural as breathing even though every cell in my body screams for me to drop the pretense, to confront, to accuse.
“Yep,” Soren confirms, his broody demeanor never slipping. “See you tonight?”
“Of course,” I lie smoothly, and hate myself for it.
They head to the door, and I follow. I can’t let them leave without one last touch, one final memory to cling to. As they step through the threshold, I pull them down to me, one after the other, and kiss them. Deeply. Desperately. Memorably.
“Bye, Mickey,” I whisper against his lips.
“Goodbye, Soren,” I breathe, allowing a sliver of my anguish to color the farewell.
“See you, Gail,” they say in unison, and then they’re gone, leaving me alone with the shattered pieces of my trust.
As soon as the front door clicks shut, I spring into action. I storm through the house, gathering my belongings with frantic haste. I yank open drawers, closets, and throw everything into bags and suitcases. Their betrayal echoes in every empty corner, a relentless reminder of why I have to leave.
“Damn you both,” I mutter, zipping up the last bag. Betrayal tastes like acid on my tongue, and it’s all I can do not to scream. I trusted them, let them in, believed we had something real. But they’ve shown me that nothing is sacred, not even the bond I thought we shared.
My eyes sting, but I refuse to cry. Not yet. There’s no time for tears—I need to be strong for Fet, for the future I’m carving out for us.
Heartbroken, yes.
Broken? Never.
Dear Mickey and Soren,
This is breaking me, more than I can even put into words. But you need to understand why I’m walking away.
I’ve fallen in love with you both, and that’s what makes this so unbearable.
Being with you opened up a part of me I didn’t know was there, a piece of my heart that you both filled. But I can’t stay with people I can’t trust, especially when more than just my heart is on the line.
I need to find my way through this mess, to be strong and clear-headed for myself and for Fet. She deserves the best version of me, and being with you… that isn’t bringing out my best self. That’s not your fault, I think it’s mine.
I’ll make sure you’re a part of her life, because she’s part of you, too.
When I’m ready, I’ll reach out. Until then, please, give me the space to heal.
Gail
My vision blurs as I fold the letter, the ink smearing slightly against my fingertips. It feels like a final kiss, one that lingers with the bitter taste of goodbye. With trembling hands, I hang it on the fridge, right next to the newest picture of Fet.
Before doubt can claw its way in, I load my belongings into my car. As I return to lock up, I get the spare key from the lockbox next to the front door. I only know the combination because Soren gave it to me when I camped out at Luce’s house, in case I returned before they did.
I do a last check that I have everything I need; my phone, check, my purse, check, and the rest of the stuff is already in my car. With trembling hands, I lock up, placing the key back in the lockbox.
When I’m in my car, I see the replies from Luce and Jamie, both of them confirming they’re on their way to my apartment.
As I drive to my apartment, the city streaks past me in a blur of color and light. My grip tightens on the steering wheel, each block taking me further from the life I thought I had, propelling me toward an uncertain future.
I pull into the familiar parking spot, my heart a mix of lead and wildfire. My apartment waits, silent and indifferent to the upheaval inside me. Jamie’s car is already parked beside Luce’s, so I know they’re both here.
“Hey,” I call out as I push the door open to my apartment, my voice steadier than I feel. Moving boxes litter the living room floor where Jamie and Lucia are already waiting. The detritus of a life once lived with careless abandon, now a carefully curated collection of necessities.
“About time you showed up,” Luce teases, but her eyes are soft with worry. Jamie just nods, his big brother gaze saying everything his silence doesn’t.
I haven’t told them anything except I want to pack up my apartment, yet they’re here, ready to help with no questions asked. Christ, how amazing are these two people?!
“Let’s get this over with.” I roll up my sleeves, diving into the task like it’s a balm for my frayed nerves. Each object I touch sparks a memory, a ghostly whisper of what was. But there’s no room for sentimentality; that ship has sailed, or rather, I’ve set it on fire.
“Remember this?” Lucia holds up a photo of us from a night out.
A pang hits me, but I shove it down since this isn’t the time to fall apart. “Keep it,” I say. “To remember me by when I go off-grid and start a new life as a hermit.”
“Fat chance,” Jamie chuckles, ruffling my dual-colored hair. “You’d miss us too damn much.”
The hours bleed together as we pack, tape, and label, we’re moving like a well-oiled machine, and apart from a few minor breaks, we’re constantly going. Since it’s only my stuff here now, packing up my life doesn’t take as long as I’d feared, and we’re done by mid-afternoon.
“It looks like we’re done,” Jamie announces, stretching his back with a groan. We look around at the hollow shell of my apartment, and I swallow the lump in my throat. This is it—the first step toward reclaiming myself.
“I can’t believe this is it,” Luce says, looking around as though she’s sure we’ve missed something. But we haven’t; every room is now condensed into boxes, and the only things left are the appliances and furniture that were here when we moved into the apartment.
Wistfully, I run my hand along the kitchen counter. “Me either,” I whisper. “It feels… surreal.” That’s not the word I want to use, but since nothing else comes to mind, it’s the one I’m going with. “But I’m ready to leave.”
The words are laden with double meaning; I’m ready to leave and go to Jamie’s, where he’s already offered I can stay until I find my own place, but I’m also ready to leave this apartment in the past and look forward.
“I’m so proud of you,” Luce gushes, pulling me into a hug that I eagerly return. “Being a mom-to-be has made you a real badass, Gail.”
Despite the guilt churning in my stomach for not having told her why we’re here, I force a smile. “Thanks, buttercup.”
While Luce and I do a final walk-through, Jamie stacks all the boxes by the wall, making sure they’re ready for the movers I still need to hire.
“Gail,” Luce whispers when we’re in the now empty bedroom. “You have to tell me what’s going on. Why are we here? And why do you look like you’re about to burst into tears at any moment?”
Inhaling sharply, I meet her gaze. “I left them.” I barely recognize my voice with how hollow it is. I’m barely holding myself together as I give her the cliff notes version of what they said last night, of how they’ve manipulated me.
“Fucking bastards!” she whisper-yells, her hands balled into fists at her sides.
“I can’t do this right now, Luce,” I croak. “I don’t have time to fall apart.”
Nodding, she turns away from me, probably to get herself under control. I take the opportunity to join my brother in the living room, but when I try to help with the boxes, he shouts at me, telling me to leave it for him to do.
As soon as everything is done, the three of us walk down together.
“Hey, can I tell Sy?” Luce calls over her shoulder as she walks over to her car.
I don’t need her to elaborate on what she means. When Mickey and Soren return home and I’m not there, they’re going to call me, regardless of the letter. And when I don’t answer, they’re going to reach out to either Luce or Sawyer, maybe both of them.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “There’s no point in keeping it a secret.”
Luce is the first one to drive away, and I wave until she disappears in the afternoon traffic. Then Jamie gets into his car, and while he pulls away, I get into mine, following him all the way to his apartment where he waits for me in the parking area.
“Let’s get you settled in,” he grunts, taking my suitcases and bags from me, insisting he’ll carry them even though there’s an elevator in his building.
Jamie’s apartment is neat, much neater than you’d imagine from an eternal bachelor. The living room has a worn leather couch facing a mounted TV, with a coffee table that’s clutter-free except for a few coasters. The compact kitchen features granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, and a well-used coffee maker.
Down the hall, the bathroom is all white tile and essentials. The spare bedroom that’s going to be my temporary home is practically bare, just a bed with a navy comforter, a wooden bedside table, and a closed closet. It’s perfect for now.
After carrying my things to the spare room, he leaves me alone to shower and unpack. I make the mistake of leaving my phone on the bedside table, which makes it impossible not to hear every vibration as calls and texts come in non-stop. When I see Mickey’s and Soren’s numbers flash across the screen for the tenth time, I’ve had it. I need to do something, occupy myself so I don’t end up caving and answering.
“Jamie!” I shout once I’m dressed in clean clothes.
He quickly appears in the doorway. “Yeah?” His hair is still damp, and his skin flushed from his own shower.
I give him a pitiful look. “We should do something tonight. I need to… err, not sit still.”
Although I know my brother will do almost anything for me, I’m fully prepared for him to shut me down, tell me he just wants to kick back and chill on his night off. But he doesn’t. “Before you called me, I had plans with Mom and Dad,” he says. “We could go there for dinner?”
“That’s perfect!” I exclaim. “Let’s go, we can call them from the car.”
Proving just how perfect he is, Jamie doesn’t comment when I leave my phone behind and practically shove him out the door in my haste to get away from the constant messages and calls that call to me, begging to be read and answered.
Jamie insists on driving to our parents’, which makes no sense to me. Both he and my dad like having a few too many beers with family dinner, and since I’m pregnant, it’s not like I’ll be drinking, anyway. However, when he volunteers to be the one to call Mom, I don’t fight him on wanting to drive. Instead, I get into his car, making myself comfortable.
I take a deep breath, steadying my nerves as Jamie and I stand at the front door of our childhood home, the scent of roasting chicken slipping through the cracks. This is the first time I’m going to my parents’ without my wig or a hat, and I feel naked without either.
“They’re going to hate it,” I whine, pointing at my black and white hair.
Jamie bursts out laughing. “You’re about to tell them you’re knocked up without having a boyfriend, and you worry about your hair?” I elbow him in the stomach and ring the doorbell.
“There you are,” Mom coos as she opens the door. Her smile is wide, practically taking up her entire face. Then her eyes land on my hair, and said smile morphs into a stilted mask of concern. “Goodness, Gail, what have you done to your hair?”
“Hi Mom.” I force myself to smile as she pulls me into a hug, pretending her reaction doesn’t bother me. “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice.” Jesus, I sound like an idiot who’s surrounded by strangers rather than family.
Luckily, Jamie takes over; pushing me into the house and out of the way so he, too, can hug Mom. While they talk, I walk inside, finding Dad in the living room. His eyebrows shoot up high on his forehead as he takes in my dual-colored tresses. “What happened to you? Are you doing a play at school?” he grunts.
Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes, I mentally contemplate whether I should tell them about Fet and EduSync before or during dinner. They already know about mine and Luce’s business, but they aren’t aware I’m no longer teaching. I should probably tell them that.
“Come, come. Dinner’s ready.” Mom’s eager words make the decision for me.
We gather around the dining table, the familiar clink of cutlery and murmur of conversation wrapping around us like an old blanket. Despite their initial reactions to my hair, there’s no lingering criticism. They’re trying, at least.
“Mom, Dad, I have something to tell you,” I interject, halting the idle chatter. I pause, gathering courage like a gambler collects chips before a high-stakes bet. Inhaling deeply, I cradle my tiny bump that’s hidden by my sweater and the table. “I’m pregnant.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable. Mom gasps, clasping her hands together, while Dad’s fork pauses mid-air.
“Gail, that’s wonderful!” Mom exclaims, her eyes alight with excitement. “How far along are you?”
“A little over thirteen weeks. It’s a girl,” I explain, my heart swelling with a mixture of fear and fierce love for the little life growing inside me.
Mom leans forward, her eyes glistening with a mixture of joy and surprise. “A baby girl,” she breathes out, her voice laced with wonder. It’s clear she’s already envisioning a pink onesie and the soft coo of an infant in her arms.
“Congratulations, Gail,” Dad says, but his words are measured, careful, like he’s navigating a minefield of potential missteps. He’s not beaming like Mom; instead, there’s a furrow in his brow, a testament to his thoughts that are probably racing a marathon. “Who’s the father?” Of course, he’s cutting to the chase in a way that’s both intrusive and expected.
I straighten my spine, prepared for this question. “That’s not something I’m ready to discuss,” I say firmly, shutting down any further inquiry. Soren and Mickey remain unspoken shadows at the table.
Dammit, I really miss them; my two hockey gods.
They should be here with me, sharing the news about Fet is something we should do together. Just because it was my choice to leave them doesn’t mean I don’t miss them, that I don’t wish things were different. But… they made their bed, and now we all have to lie in it.
Throughout dinner, Mom keeps asking questions, and eagerly sharing her own experience from her two pregnancies. Her excitement shines through every word, and more than once, she places her hand on my stomach, commenting on the fact she can already feel the bump.
“Do you get paid maternity leave from the school?” Dad suddenly asks, unknowingly giving me the opening I’ve been waiting for.
I exchange a nervous glance with Jamie before answering. “Umm… I don’t work for the school anymore.”
“Why not?” he demands harshly. “Don’t tell me you—”
Holding up my hand, I interrupt him. “I got fired before the new year due to budget cuts. Look, Dad, it would be nice if you didn’t immediately assume it was my fault.”
“But that’s so long ago,” Mom interjects. “What have you been doing since then?”
Since we’re here, I might as well come clean about everything—well, as much as possible. “I’ve been working on EduSync with Luce full time while living off my savings. We’re getting ready to launch at the beginning of May.”
Dad’s face twists into a mask of anger and disappointment, and I know he’s about to tell me just how disappointed he is. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of Gail,” Jamie says, looking straight at Dad. “She’s doing what she thinks is right, and since it’s her life, that seems fair to me.”
My brother has this way of diffusing tension before it arrives, and right now is no different. Dad nods thoughtfully, emptying his beer. “I’m proud of you, too,” he says, surprising me.
“You are?” I gasp.
“Of course I am, Gail. I’m only hard on you because I want you to succeed, but if this is what you want, your mom and I support you completely.”
Tears well up in my eyes, and I’m transported back to when I was a kid and proudly showed him my homework. Although it was wrong, he told me he was proud of me for trying, and that sometimes trying is all we can do.
As I think back on all the times my dad’s been there for me, I realize that maybe he isn’t the problem; it’s me. I’m the one who has created distance through lies and secrets. Even though I’m not about to spill everything, like about Cupid’s Court, I vow I’ll do a better job at keeping my parents close from now on.
By the time we’re done eating the delicious chicken and one of Mom’s pies—spoiler alert; I ate half all by myself—it’s time to leave. Jamie and I also told our parents I’m living with him while looking for my own place, one with a garden. Much to my surprise, Dad thought it was smart to quit my apartment, and insisted he and Mom want to cover the fee for breaking my contract with three months left.
“Thank you for dinner,” I say, pulling on my coat, feeling relieved everything is out in the open.
“Take care of yourself, Gail,” Dad says, hugging me tightly.
“Don’t forget to send us the picture of… what did you call her? Fet?”
Laughing, I promise to send them the picture I showed them of their grandchild.