Chapter Twelve
Kade’s getting ready to go to his last gig of his solo tour, which is at a newly-opened nightclub at home here in Nashville. Here I am, describing Nashville as home.
It’s starting to feel that way.
I’ve been writing all afternoon and I’m deep in the scene where my two main characters finally meet. Kade likes me to come to his shows, though, so I save my document, email it to myself, back it up on the cloud and onto a flash drive, and close my laptop.
“How do you feel about meeting my parents?” I ask him. “My other parents,” I clarify. “My actual parents. The ones who raised me.”
“Yeah?” He smiles. “Are we ready for that?”
“Are you ready for that?” I nudge him with my elbow.
“I was always ready for that.”
So I Facetime my parents. After weeks of giving vague answers and non-committal replies, it’s time. My family’s expectations have lifted me up in my life, but they’ve also acted as a weight that has held me back or made me doubt my own path. That’s gone now.
They’re both there, in the kitchen, listening to my father’s favorite jazz playlist. “Hi Mom. Hi Daddy.”
“Stella,” my mother starts. “We were wondering when we might hear from you.” Her tone is slightly miffed, which doesn’t bother me like it would have a month ago. “How’s your little adventure going? Have you found yourself yet?”
I ignore the light gibe. “I want to introduce you to someone. A friend of mine. We’re seeing each other. His name is Kade.”
“Very nice to meet you, Professor Bell. Mrs. Bell.” Kade’s so easy in his own skin I can’t help smiling. And loving him even more. For his steadiness. And his absolutely alpha charm.
My father studies him through the screen. “Kade Tucker ?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I saw you play with Dusty Cunningham at the Underground in New York City last year. That was one hell of a show, son.”
“You saw that?” Kade says. “Oh, that was a good one. One of my top five favorite shows of all time. Very few feel as perfect as that one did.”
“It was phenomenal,” my father replies. “I’m a fan, Mr. Tucker.”
My father’s a fan ? Now, that , I was not quite expecting. Kade mentioned he played jazz sometimes, but I never knew he performed it.
“Please. Call me Kade, sir.”
And just like that, Kade Tucker not only slots himself into another major facet of my life, but makes it easier for me to navigate.
I tell my parents I’m staying in Nashville, I’ve applied to defer a semester, I’m writing a novel and I’ve moved in with Kade. Maybe it’s the time apart or the resolve in my voice, but they accept all of it with some surprise but also with grace. “I love you guys so much,” I tell them, “and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me more than you’ll ever know,” and both my parents get choked up by this.
“We love you too, honey.”
I don’t tell them the part about me meeting my birth parents but I will. It’s something I’d like to do in person.
We end the call and I’m happy with the way that went but I also feel strangely exhausted.
My stomach does a funny lurch. I go into the bathroom, wondering if I’m going to be sick. The room spins and my skin has gone clammy. But after a minute or two, the feeling passes.
What the hell was that?
I go over to the sink and splash my face with some cold water.
My reflection in the mirror looks ... good. I look different than I did a month ago. My hair is shiny. My eyes are bright and my cheeks are flushed. It’s a weird thing to admit to myself, but I don’t ever remember looking as beautiful as I do right now. My enlightenment feels downright complete and it shows.
Another wave of nausea rolls through my stomach.
Ugh.
Did I eat something? Maybe something didn’t agree with me.
I wait until the wave passes, which it does. I dry my face and go back out to the bedroom. I can hear Kade packing up his guitar in the living room so I go out to find him.
“Hey, beautiful. You ready?”
“Kade, would you mind if I stayed here tonight? I’m not feeling that well.”
He stops what he’s doing, his gaze stern and worried. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just a little tired.”
“Do you want me to stay home with you? Do you need a doctor?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. I think I might just need to have an early night.”
“I’ll cancel my gig. It’s not—”
“ No. Definitely don’t do that. You go. I’ll be fine. Really.”
“I don’t want to leave you if you’re not feeling well.”
“I’ll curl up in your big bed and go to sleep and I’ll be right here waiting for you when you get back.”
He pulls me between his knees from where he’s half-sitting against the couch. “You sure?”
“Absolutely sure.” It’s true that we haven’t been apart at all, since the day we met.
“I don’t want to leave you.”
I smile because he’s a sweetheart. “It’s only for a few hours. You go. I wouldn’t want you to disappoint your fans.”
“You’re more important than my fans.”
“I’m fine. I want you to go.”
I finally talk him into it, and after a few scorching kisses, Kade leaves.
It feels strange to be without him.
I go into the kitchen to get a glass of water, thinking maybe it’ll settle my stomach. I open the fridge and grab some bottled water, standing there for a few seconds to inspect the contents of the fridge because I suddenly feel hungry. My nausea is completely gone and now I’m craving food.
Something sweet.
Chocolate.
And ice cream.
I search his freezer but it’s empty, aside from a bottle of vodka. Ugh. The thought makes my stomach lurch again, but once I close the freezer, my craving is even stronger.
I search his cupboards.
There are a lot of canned foods, coffee beans, packages of grits.
But no chocolate.
I could ask one of his security guards outside the front door of the apartment to go get me some. There’s a convenience store right down at the corner that’s only a few minutes away.
But then, they might call Kade and tell him. They report every single thing that happens. I don’t want them to interrupt him. I have this feeling the slightest hint that I need something will have him canceling his show and rushing back to make sure I’m okay. Which I am.
Except that I feel like I could murder a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. Holy hell, I literally need Salted Caramel Brownie ice cream right now.
There’s a back entrance. There’s a staircase at the far end of the patio that leads down to a side door. I know the code. And I don’t think it’s guarded.
It’s probably a four minute walk to the corner store.
I shouldn’t. We’re being stalked, after all. Hence the brigade of body guards. It’s an unnecessary risk, even though no one would be expecting it and I’m sure it would be fine.
The craving for ice cream hits me again, followed closely by another wave of nausea.
Why am I nauseous? And why would I be craving chocolate this badly?
A manic wave of realization hits me.
Holy shit.
When is my period due?
I get my bag from Kade’s bedroom and I take out my birth control pills. There’s one pink one left and then it’s white sugar pills.
But what day is it? I remember the date I got my last period because I had a paper due on the—
Oh my God.
Did I take them every day?
I don’t think I did.
I think I missed some.
When I met Kade and we got so swept away and spent 24/7 of that first week in bed ... having very unprotected sex , I think I must have forgotten to take a few of my pills.
How could I be so stupid? What the hell was I thinking?
You were thinking about getting thoroughly fucked by a dreamy beefcake musician and counting down the minutes to your next orgasm.
Shit shit shit.
I think I forgot to take four. Maybe even five.
I sit down on the bed and have a mini panic attack.
Is it too late for the morning after pill?
I google it.
120 hours or five days after you have sex.
It’s too late.
I do the math in my head, thinking about my last period and counting backwards.
I’m five days late.
Holy fuck.
Maybe it’s just the intensity of the last few weeks that has my cycle messed up.
It’s possible that I’m just a few days late because my periods don’t always run like clockwork.
Pretty close, though.
I’ll go find a CVS or something and I’ll take a pregnancy test and it’ll be negative and everything will be fine.
But I don’t really want to ask the burly bouncers outside the door to do that run for me. Excuse me, could you go pick up a pregnancy test and two pints of Ben & Jerry’s please? Thanks so much.
I’ll go myself.
Kade will be gone for another few hours and his evil ex has probably moved on by now. It’s been more than two weeks since our encounter at Speakeasy. Surely she’s forgotten about her twisted vendetta against me. She’s an heiress and influencer, or something. She must have better things to do.
I decide to do it.
So I put on my coat and pull on a pair of black ankle boots. I grab my phone and check my bag to make sure my money card is still there. I haven’t spent any money since I met Kade. He pays for everything.
Which isn’t really ideal, but I’ve kind of gotten swept away in the haven he provides.
No kidding. That’s why you’re in this mess.
I let myself out onto the patio and find the locked gate that leads down the back staircase. When I get down to street level, there are no guards.
It actually feels sort of liberating to not be trailed and watched. All the crazy scrutiny is a million miles from what I’m used to and it’s nice to just go unnoticed for once.
I walk the two blocks to the corner and go into the store, where they have an entire glass freezer dedicated to Vermont’s finest. I grab two pints. Then I find the pharmacy aisle. To see if they have a pregnancy test. Turns out they do. So I grab one and the tiny photo on the box of a pregnant woman hits me hard.
What if I’m pregnant with Kade Tucker’s baby?
Maybe that’s something you should have thought more carefully about when you were—
It doesn’t matter. There’s no point churning about what I should or shouldn’t have been doing. It’s done now.
I made a mistake.
Just like Madeline did.
God. I’m not ready.
But I also know, after everything that’s happened and because of who I am and where I came from, that if something has taken hold inside me, it’s with me for life.
I’ve already made my choice.
You wanted conflict, Stella? Here’s some conflict for you.
Like he said, life will offer up its own angst, and plenty of it.
Can you sense the choices people will make when you first look into their eyes? Can you see the decisions they’ll make are in sync with your own?
I don’t know.
As if everything he’s done so far isn’t enough, here’s where the hero Kade Tucker steps into his own. Because I already know the choice he’d make too.
I remember asking him what he was doing when he pushed his cum back inside me with his fingers.
Keeping me inside you.
I’m scared. More than scared. Terrified.
I’m also ... completely sure about what I’ll do.
I’m keeping it.
Somewhere on the other side of my fear, I’m already in love with it.
Making my way back outside, I head back down the street toward Kade’s, walking quickly.
A black car pulls up next to me.
I look over at it, thinking it’s pulling over to park, but two men jump out. I’m entirely not expecting it. One of them grabs my bag and the other pushes me into the back seat of the car.
Before I can even scream or struggle, the car door slams shut and it pulls away from the curb.