Chapter 41
Gail
T he chirp of Lucia’s phone shatters the silence we are— were —working in. She quickly snatches it up, her lips curve into a dorky grin that spells out “Sawyer” in flashing neon lights, even though she doesn’t say a word.
“Is he sexting you from the locker room again?” I tease without looking up from the spreadsheet that’s as tangled as my thoughts.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she singsongs, tapping away with fingers that dance over the screen like they’re on fast-forward. “Nah, he just told me he’d be late since he’s… doing stuff.”
I’m pretty sure “stuff” means he’s hanging out with Soren and Mickey, but since I’m too much of a chickenshit to ask, I push away from the desk to lean back in the creaky chair that protests under the weight of my exhaustion.
It’s been one week—seven days, one hundred sixty-eight hours—since I walked away from Mickey and Soren with nothing but my shattered heart and a baby growing inside me.
My little Fet, the only piece of them I have left.
Loneliness clings to me, a second skin I can’t shed, and heartbreak pulses through my veins with every beat of my heart. But there’s also this fierce determination to prove I can stand on my own two feet, even if they’re wobbly as hell.
Unaware of my turmoil, Luce pulls me out of my thoughts and back into business mode. “Do you think this call-to-action is edgy enough?” she asks, her green eyes squinting at the glowing screen in front of her.
I lean closer to have a look. “Edgy? If you make it edgier, we might get shadow banned,” I retort. But there’s a lilt to my voice, one that doesn’t belong in our business banter. I can tell she hears it—the way her eyebrows draw together like she’s solving me as if I’m her next big project.
“Let’s try it out then.” She hits “send” before I can protest, sealing the fate of our latest EduSync brainchild into the digital void. “And now we wait.”
I tap the screen of my phone, scrolling through the list of influencers Lucia and I have curated—each one a potential kindling for the firestorm we want to set off on launch day. “How about this guy?” I say, pointing to a profile with an impressive follower count and an aesthetic that screams “creative entrepreneur.”
“Perfect,” Lucia nods, her red curls bouncing as she leans over to peek at my phone. “He’s got reach and his audience is our target market. Let’s draft him an email.”
My fingers dance across the screen, crafting an invitation laced with just enough flattery to catch his attention without sounding desperate. We need these influencers to believe in EduSync as much as we do.
“Sent,” I declare, a tiny triumph amid the vast sea of tasks still ahead of us. “One down, a million to go.”
“Every empire starts with a single brick,” Luce quips, her eyes sparkling with that relentless optimism of hers.
I nod, rubbing at the slight swell of my belly that’s become my constant companion, along with this gnawing ache for Mickey and Soren.
I’m reaching for my mug when she fixes her eyes on me, a softness in their green depths that I’ve seen way too much this past week. It’s her I pity you but don’t want you to know look. “You’re glowing, Gail,” she says, her voice tinged with that mix of awe and concern only a best friend can muster.
Radiant isn’t a word I’d normally use for myself, especially not these days, but as I catch my reflection in the window, I see what she means. My skin has taken on this warm luminescence, like I’m backlit by some gentle inner fire, and my hair seems shinier.
My body, once average and predictable, now curves and swells in new, intriguing ways around the life budding inside me. At fifteen weeks I haven’t changed all that much, but it’s enough for me to notice and treasure it.
Leaning closer, Luce takes my hand. “Pregnancy suits you, but umm… are you doing okay otherwise?” She pauses, biting her lip, a clear sign she’s gearing up to offer help. “Anything you need, just ask.”
There’s this unspoken promise between us, one that stretches back to our college dorm days—a lifeline I’ve grabbed onto more times than I care to admit. But lately, I’ve been grappling with a heaviness that feels like it could drag even her down with me.
“Actually, there is something…” The words tumble out before I can stop them, breaking a vow I made to myself. I never meant to ask about them. I’m supposed to be focusing on my own growth, dammit. But here I am, weak and wanting. “Do you... do you know how Mickey and Soren are doing?”
Her sigh is barely audible, but I see the resignation settle over her features. For a moment, Luce looks older, wearier, as if the weight of my sorrow has draped itself over her shoulders. “They’re miserable, Gail.” Her eyes meet mine again, and the raw honesty there leaves me breathless. “Sawyer keeps me updated. They miss you. A lot.”
It’s like a punch to the gut, the air whooshing out of me in an agonized rush. I knew it. Deep down, I’ve felt their absence like a physical ache—a relentless, gnawing emptiness—but hearing it confirmed, knowing they’re suffering too, it’s both a balm and a blade to my battered heart.
“Shit,” I mutter, pressing a hand against the slight bump of my belly, seeking solace from the tiny being within. “I didn’t want to know, but I needed to.”
We continue to work for a few more hours, each of us engrossed in our own tasks. By the time I look out of the window again, it’s dark. I get up from the chair, stretching, and needing to move my legs. I’m just about to suggest another break, or that we stop for the day, when Sawyer bursts through the door, all smiles and kinetic energy.
My heart skips before plummeting into an abyss. There’s something about the way Lucia lights up at his entrance, her emerald eyes sparkling with unspoken words and shared secrets—a love so visceral it radiates from them like heat from a flame.
“Hey, Bunny.” Sawyer greets Lucia with a pet name that feels like a private joke, the corners of his mouth lifting in that boyish grin as he sweeps her into his arms. They’re lost in their own world, and I’m just a spectator peering through the looking glass. “Hi Gail,” he says when they pull apart.
“Hi,” I manage to say, my voice wavering with an emotion I can’t quite name. Is it envy? Longing? The crushing weight of missing Soren and Mickey is a constant companion, gnawing at the edges of my composure.
“Ready for the game tomorrow?” Lucia asks him, her fingers tracing patterns on the fabric of his jersey as if she’s drawing strength from the contact.
I take that as my cue to leave, feeling like I’m intruding on something sacred. “I should head out,” I murmur, slipping past them toward the door, trying to ignore the sharp sting behind my eyes.
The drive back to Jamie’s house is a blur, the streets merging into one endless stream of headlights and shadows. In the silence of the car, I let myself imagine—for just a moment—what it would be like to have that kind of love again, to be cocooned in the kind of warmth that seems to wrap around Luce and Sawyer like a protective shield.
I snort at myself as I realize I mentally said “again”. The love I experienced with Mickey and Soren was toxic and manipulative—fabricated instead of real.
My reality is a cold bed, and a heart hollowed by absence. I park in Jamie’s driveway, killing the engine and letting the stillness envelop me. Maybe someday I’ll feel whole again, but tonight, I cradle my burgeoning belly and mourn what once was—aching for the touch of two men who are as much a part of me as the life growing inside.
Entering Jamie’s apartment, I use the flashlight on my phone instead of switching on the lights. He’s on night shift and won’t be home until the morning, and since I don’t feel like doing anything, I slip under the covers, the chill of loneliness wrapping around me like a shroud as I curl up on my side. My fingertips brush against my belly, the gentle swell a reminder that life—stubborn and unyielding—continues amidst heartbreak.
“Hey there, Fet,” I murmur into the hush of the room. “It’s just us girls tonight.” Of course, I don’t get a reply, but that doesn’t stop me from continuing to talk. “You’ve got a hell of a family waiting to meet you, kiddo. Two dads with more love than sense and an auntie who’s kickass at everything she touches. Not to mention your uncle; he’s the kindest and most generous man in the world.”
In the darkness, I imagine Mickey’s broad palms resting over mine, while Soren hovers behind, a towering presence of warmth, his lips pressing a promise into the crown of my head. The fantasy is so vivid; it’s almost cruel.
“Your daddies are… they’re complicated, but they’re all yours.” My voice breaks, and I swallow hard against the ache. “And we’re gonna be okay. Promise.”
The morning light seeps through the curtains—a fresh start or a glaring reminder of another day without them. I’m not sure which.
Instead of doing what I really want to do, pine, I get ready quickly and then I silently slip out of the apartment, careful not to wake Jamie. Mom’s already waiting for me in the parking lot, ready to go shopping. We haven’t done a lot of that lately, so when she suggested it I didn’t hesitate to say yes.
She drives us to the mall where we end up walking aimlessly around for a couple of hours. In the baby shops she points out items she thinks I should consider buying already. I try my best to keep a good spirit, but in the third shop I break down, all of it reminding me of when Soren took me shopping.
“Oh, my God! Gail!” Mom’s tone is filled with concern. “What’s wrong?”
Unable to answer due to the ball of emotions lodged in my throat, I just reach for her, uncaring of who sees us. Right now, I need my mom more than I can put into words.
I don’t pay attention to where we’re going as she guides me out of the shop and into the nearest restaurant, straight into the bathroom. “What’s happening? Is it Fet?” she asks, handing me some toilet paper.
Although I want to answer her, reassure her that Fet and I are okay, I can’t. I can’t do anything but fall to pieces in the bathroom, sobbing into my hands. My entire body is shaking so hard that even standing upright is too much. Leaning against the wall, I let myself drop down to a crouch, still crying into my hands while Mom softly strokes my hair and murmurs that everything is going to be okay.
When I’m all cried out, I finally remove my hands and look up at her. “I miss them so much,” I confess hoarsely.
“Who?”
Letting out a shuddering breath, I tell her about Soren and Mickey. Not how or where we met, but I do make it clear they’re both Fet’s dads, and that we were in a relationship—all three of us—until I left last week.
“But why did you leave if you love them so much?” Mom asks, her expression bewildered.
“They lied to me,” I explain. “And manipulated me into moving in with them. But it wasn’t real. Well, it was, and it wasn’t…” Trailing off, I shake my head. It was real, I know that—it just wasn’t healthy.
Mom remains quiet while I wash my face, doing my best not to look like someone who’s just cried her eyes out. Once I feel okay being seen again, we find a table in the restaurant and order lunch—at least Mom does. I only want the chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream and an extra large chocolate shake.
While we wait for the food in silence, I can feel Mom’s eyes resting on me, and I don’t blame her for being worried. Not after the meltdown I just had. “Is it better to be on your own?” she asks curiously.
Furrowing my brows, I ponder the question before answering. “In some ways,” I say, finding it hard to explain how I really feel when I can’t tell her our entire story. “But I…”
Fuck it, I might as well go for broke here and tell my mom the uncensored version of what’s happened since November up until now. I wait until the food and drinks arrive before I start my sordid tale.
“Luce and I had an argument back in November,” I start. “I left the apartment and moved in with Jamie. That’s when I found out I was one of the teachers to get fired effective starting in January. It hit me a lot harder than I thought it would, and I became depressed.”
Mom nods, but stays silent. She knows me well enough to know I’m only getting started.
“He helped me get some anti-depressants, which, ironically, is the reason I became pregnant.” Knowing I’m getting ahead of myself, I force myself to go back. I can’t look at her while I tell her about signing up for Cupid’s Court. “I had my first job on New Year’s,” I whisper, nervously looking around to make sure no one is listening.
“Go on,” Mom urges, smiling softly at me while she eats.
So I do; I tell her how often they booked me, and how I fell in love with them. But when I get to the part about not telling them about the pregnancy right away, she presses her lips together, a clear show of her disapproval.
“Oh, Gail,” she sighs, taking my hand.
“I know, I know,” I sigh. Then I move on to how it went down when I finally did tell them, and we all found out each other’s identities. “I swear I didn’t know, Mom. I mean, I guess I kind of hoped, but that felt more like a fantasy, not something that could happen for real.”
She hisses—honest to God hisses—when I explain that they locked me up, and how the owner and Dr. Patel treated me.
The entire story takes so long we’re both done eating, and Mom’s ordered a third glass of wine by the time I finally reach the events that led to my decision to leave them. She listens just as intently as she did when I started, making noises of approval and disapproval as I tell her literally everything.
“That’s quite the story,” she says once I’m done. “But I still have one question.”
“Okay… shoot?”
She leans back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. “From what I can understand, you’ve all three made your share of mistakes and caused your share of hurt.” That’s a fair observation. “Are you happier without them? Because what I witnessed in the bathroom was heartbreak of the purest kind.”
“W-what?” I stutter, not sure I follow. Truthfully, I expected my mom to be disgusted by me, ashamed even. I never thought she’d sit here and casually discard all the sordid details to discuss my feelings.
Apparently able to read my mind, Mom smirks and says, “I’m not going to pretend you haven’t shocked the bejesus out of me, Gail. You have. But you’re my daughter, and I love you. Nothing is going to change that. Sure, I’d love it if you’d made different choices, but it’s your life to live. As long as you can live with it all, I can too.”
I’m so stunned I can’t move, can’t even look away from my mom as she sits there, all calm and so filled with love I can feel it in the freaking air. Talk about unwavering love and support.
“I’m not happier,” I say, answering her question. “But I feel like I need to do this. I need to find myself so I can be the best version of myself for Fet.” I’m pretty much repeating what I wrote in my letter to Mickey and Soren, which proves that I meant it then, and I still mean it now.
We continue to talk; Mom giving me her advice and promising she won’t tell any of this to Dad. If she did, I don’t think I could ever sit across from him at the dinner table again. Just no.
As it becomes time to leave, Mom waves the waiter over and asks for the bill. When it arrives, she smirks and points at me. “Now that I know how you’ve made your money, I have a pretty good idea of how much you’ve earned. You’re paying.” I burst out laughing and hand my credit card over to the waiter, signing the receipt as he returns with it after swiping my card.
Leaving the restaurant, we go to another end of the mall, one with jewelry, shoes, handbags, and those kinds of items. It hangs unspoken between us that we stay as far away from pregnancy stuff as possible.
We stay for so long I end up taking an Uber back to Jamie’s instead of having Mom drive me. Now that she knows who Fet’s dads are, she wants to watch the game as well.
Back at Jamie’s, the Sabertooths’ emblem is already blazing across the screen, the roar of the crowd a stark contrast to the shops’ tranquility. Jamie hands me a beer, non-alcoholic of course, and I sink into the couch beside him, the fabric enveloping me like an old friend.
“Did you have fun with Mom?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I reply, peeling the sticker off the bottle. “I told her everything.”
At my admission, he chokes on the swig he just took, sputtering so hard I consider whether I need to somehow help him. “You did what?” he sputters.
Nodding, I fix my gaze on the screen. “Yeah, I kind of had to after I had a complete breakdown in a baby shop.”
Something in my tone must warn my brother from asking more questions. All he does is throw his arm over my shoulder and pull me closer. “Let’s watch the game,” he says.