Chapter 22
Teagan
The car is eerily silent as Quentin makes the drive over to my place. Or what was once my place. I need to see it for myself.
It’s almost as if it’s not really real until that happens.
My mind is a mess. I don’t know where I’ll live. I have the money, but I don’t know where to even start. I’ve lived here since I was old enough to get and afford my own place.
Quentin makes a left, pulling down my street, when my mouth falls open and an audible gasp leaves my lips.
“Fuck.” My lips quiver, losing the battle to the tears that are escaping down my cheeks at the sight in front of me.
The Victorian modern apartment complex is still standing, but the windows from my place on the second floor are shattered, the edges darkened from the fire.
There’s still smoke coming from the windows as firefighters are on the scene, dousing water into the broken windows.
I don’t know much about fires, but from what I’m seeing, I know the owner of the complex wasn’t lying when he said there is nothing left.
My body goes numb as it settles in that everything’s gone.
Blueberry’s room that was just getting started.
Every piece of furniture. Every medal and trophy. All of my clothes. Every. Thing.
It’s almost like my life before didn’t exist, a clean slate if you will. There’s no evidence of the past, nothing that screams I existed here. All that’s left is me, Blueberry, and the clothes on my back.
I hiccup, overwhelmed with so many emotions that I break and sob with my hands covering my face.
Quentin leans across the console, his large arm wrapping around my shoulders, pulling me into him. I should push him away, but I don’t have it in me to fight off his comforting embrace.
“I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“What do you mean?” he counters as his fingers trail gently up and down my arm.
“I…” I hiccup. “Don’t like crying in front of people.”
I’ve always been embarrassed letting anyone, let alone a man see me vulnerable like this. I don’t like how I feel when I’m sad. I hate that it feels like I’m weak and giving up by crying, as if I’m letting something else win over my ability to self-regulate and fix the problem.
“If it makes you feel better, I can pretend it never happened.” He offers with a gentle smile, his voice so soft and comforting.
All I offer is a subtle nod before I bury myself into him. The tears I’d been holding free-fall down my cheeks as I let myself grieve the past life it feels like I lost.
Quentin never stops rubbing his hand up and down my arm while repeatedly telling me it’ll be okay in the most gentle voice.
Eventually, the tears slow and my breathing evens out, so I drag my hands away from my face.
Quentin offers me a tissue he must’ve grabbed from the center console, and I clean up my face as he removes his arm from my body.
I kind of miss his warmth, but I’ll never admit that to him.
“Thank you for that,” I mumble, not looking over at him.
“Nothing happened, right?” he says, his voice light and teasing.
It makes me scoff and fail to hide a small smile. “Right.” Inhaling and exhaling deeply, I stare at what was once my home, realizing there’s nothing to be done about it. As much as it sucks, I have to figure out a game plan.
“I guess I’ll have to move in with my brother,” I relent, knowing I have nowhere else to go for now. While he’s going to be overbearing, it’s the easiest choice right now.
“With it being a secret from Ian, do you think that’s the best option?” he counters.
“It’s not like you and I planned on being cuddled up on the couch reading Parenting for Dummies books together, so I don’t see why it would be a problem,” I say sarcastically.
“No, but I’ll pick you up for appointments. I’d want to come over and set up the crib again, or help paint the nursery. Things like that,” he says as his eyes drift down to my belly for a beat.
“I’m sure Ian won’t mind helping me with baby stuff, and I’ll call the office to rearrange my appointments so they’re between classes and you can pick me up there,” I suggested. It’s not ideal, but for the time being, it’s the only solution I can come up with.
“I want to do those things.” Quentin’s voice rises, not in anger, but passion. “You’re the mother of my child and I want to be the one taking care of both of you. If you think I’m going to let another man, family or not, take care of what’s mine, you’re wrong.”
Warmth spreads across my cheeks and breathing suddenly becomes harder than before.
Platonic, I remind myself. This is platonic and he’s being protective.
I clear my throat, hoping he didn’t notice my cheeks heating. “Fine. I’ll stay with Ian only until I find a new place to live. It might take me some time, but I—I’ll try to get an apartment as soon as possible. I have money, bu—”
“Move in with me,” he cuts me off with a tone so serious I don’t dare question if he was joking or not.
“What?” I balk because I must have misheard him suggesting we live together.
“It’s the perfect solution. Moving or even just finding a place is stressful and I don’t want you to have to go through that.”
“We can’t move in together,”
“Why not?”
“Be-because…” I stutter, trying to come up with an excuse. “That would complicate things,” I finally say. It’s a legit excuse and something we need to tread carefully about.
“We have a pact for a reason, remember? What just happened to you today was a lot, Teagan. And I want to watch over you and make sure you’re okay,” he says gently.
“Sounds a bit clingy if you ask me,” I attempt to joke, throwing anything at him to make him realize his idea is ridiculous.
“If that makes me clingy, then so be it.” He smirks with a low chuckle and fuck me, I hate how my body warms whenever he smiles at me. “But I’m serious. Move in with me.”
“What if Ian asks where I’m living?”
“Eventually, we’ll have to tell him and he has to accept the fact that I’m here to stay. I’ve seen what postpartum was like for my sister, and I want to be there for you. For both of you. I want to help with feedings and make sure you and our baby are okay.”
He’s right about Ian, and most importantly, having someone around to help during the first few months doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.
“You make some good points,” I relent with a sigh, blowing a stray hair out of my face.
A smile creeps up on his face. “So it’s a yes?”
I roll my eyes and sigh. “Yes, I’ll move in with you. But can we wait to tell my brother until I feel ready?”
Quentin nods. “You could tell him you were crashing at one of your friends’ places while you get your affairs in order.”
I ponder that for a moment, then decide it’s the only option that is believable.
“That could work. One of my best friends, Clara, has a condo in the city, but she lives in Miami for work, so I can say I’m staying over there.”
It’s not the best plan, but it’s the best I can think of right now. In a matter of minutes, my entire life has turned upside down, and I don’t have the energy to make important decisions. I just want to sleep. I’m exhausted in every way possible.
“Let’s go home then. I’ll bring you back to get your car tomorrow after my game. Okay?”
“Okay,” I say meekly as he pulls his car from the curb and drives out of my neighborhood.
I glance at my apartment building for the last time. It’s the first place I ever called my own and where I thought I’d raise my child. Just when I thought I had a handle on this detour, it seems like my life’s GPS decided to reroute me once again.
I don’t know where this path will take me. I only hope it’s a good one.