Chapter Fifteen
TOMI
One Week Later
The cold texture hits my tongue as the burned caramel flavor explodes through my mouth. It’s the umpteenth time I’ve eaten this ice cream since the tattoo studio closed down a week ago, and what am I doing? I’m sitting here in my pajamas in the middle of the day, eating from a tub of creamy goodness, scrolling through jobs in the employment section.
Way to reach rock bottom, Tomi.
Levi’s at school. It’s a miracle I got him there this morning. He’s been off, suspended multiple times, and has been acting out since the shop closed. He’s been out of his usual routine of going there after school. He doesn’t like change, and this minor adjustment has thrown him for a loop. I’m getting calls from the school saying he’s distracted in class, his temper has flared, and his sensory issues are heightened at the moment. Where he could stand certain things before, now he’s having issues with them. Things like chairs scraping on the floor and in a classroom that’s going to be an issue.
He is not coping.
I am not coping.
I miss working.
But more than anything, I miss the feel of my tattoo machine, Betsy, in my hand. The vibration it sends through my fingers is like a shot of adrenaline that I haven’t felt for a week. I miss my friends, my work colleagues, but most of all, much to my horror, I miss Xander.
Having him around, his funny texts, having him to rely on.
I just miss him.
I hate admitting that I miss him.
I know I’m much stronger than this.
So much for a better more positive Tomi.
Xander was never truly real. He was playing a part, his sole purpose to manipulate me—pushing me to leave so they could fast-track their project. But he failed. I stayed my course, only leaving when I had no other choice . He didn’t accomplish his mission, and for that, at least, I’m grateful. It means I wasn’t just another fool taken for a ride.
A sudden beep cuts through my thoughts. My phone. Reaching for it on the coffee table, my gaze flicks to the screen. Xander.
I exhale.
I should change his contact name to Alex. Or better yet, delete him altogether. But curiosity wins as my thumb swipes across the screen, opening the message.
Xander: You’re still my girl, Tomi.
Bringing my pen to my mouth, I chew on the end with such force I hear the plastic cracking under the strain. I’m annoyed to see his name, but I can’t stop the corner of my lips from turning upward.
My lips are traitors.
Inhaling deeply, I shake my head, exiting the chat without replying.
It’s almost comforting to know he’s thinking about me after a week apart. I’m still stuck on a man I thought I knew, and Xander—or Alex, or whoever the fuck he really is—seems to be stuck on me too. But I can’t afford to dwell on that. I have bigger priorities.
Finding a job is at the top of the list. The inheritance from my parents won’t last forever, and I need to support Levi. Thankfully, they made sure he’d always be taken care of. His trust covers his therapy, his nanny—everything he’ll need for the rest of his life. For that, I’m endlessly grateful. If I had to come up with that money on my own, I’d be screwed.
They left me some money too, but not enough to sustain me until I find another tattoo studio. So, for now, it’s job hunting. The payout from Scott Enterprises wasn’t much, but I’m holding on to it, saving it for the day I can finally open a new shop. Until then, survival mode it is.
So, I get back to work, shoveling another spoonful of ice cream in my mouth as I scour the employment section.
One Month Later
“Thanks for shopping at Frank’s Fresh Food Mart,” I drone as another happy customer walks away from my register. I begin to swipe the next customer’s groceries, my belly rolls again, sending that feeling through the pit of my stomach.
I shouldn’t be here.
I should be doing something with art.
Celebrating the way drawings come to life on skin.
Not scanning packets of condoms, cable ties, and cucumbers?
What the hell does this person get up to?
“Tomi?” I glance to my left to see Hogtie walking in as I finish up this customer’s strange collection of groceries.
“Thanks for shopping at Frank’s Fresh Food Mart,” I mumble as the customer walks off with his weird sex fetish purchases.
I glance at Hogtie as he steps up to my register with a strange expression. “What the fuck are you doing wasting your talents here?”
My eyes search the room for my boss, Brent, who happens to be a nineteen-year-old pimply-faced jerk with a superiority complex, but he must be out the back right now. “It’s so good to see you, Hogtie, but I need to pay my bills.”
Hogtie turns his lip up. “You need to be working in another studio, Tomi. Why the hell aren’t you slinging ink? Why the hell aren’t you renting a spot somewhere?”
My chest squeezes. I hate this. “It just doesn’t feel right if it’s not at Hope & Faith Ink.”
He slumps. “I get it, I do. But don’t waste your talents for too long, Tomi. I’m over on Sheffield Street if you change your mind. There’s a spot there for you any time. Just say the word.” He winks at me as he turns, walking out of the store without buying anything. It’s like he came in here simply to talk to me.
Could I work in the industry again as an employee?
I’ve had this swirling feeling in my stomach ever since I left, and I can’t dull it. The stress messes with my body in all kinds of ways.
Brent steps up to my register, tapping the end of it, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Tomi, you’re good to go. Close up your shift.”
I furrow my brows. “But I don’t finish for another half hour.”
Brent steadiest his shoulders. “If you’re going to stand around talking rather than working, then you need to leave.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “This is my wage you’re taking away here, Brent.”
He scoffs. “Then maybe you’ll learn to work and not be a Chatty Cathy.” That smirk, I want to wipe it off his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I scrunch up my face as I unwrap my apron, throwing it down on the checkout bench, then storm to the locker room mumbling under my breath. Moving to my locker, I open it, grab my bag, and reach in for my cell to see if there are any messages from Greta. There’s a text from Xander instead.
My stomach flips.
I dream of him every day, without fail. I miss him more than words, but I’m still so undeniably fucking angry at him. I take a breath as I swipe the screen to open the message.
Xander: You’re still my girl, Tomi.
I pull my lips in to try and stop the smile forming on my face. I haven’t gotten a text from him in a month, though he has sent me two bunches of flowers in the last two weeks. Even so, I thought he’d move on, that he would forget about me, while I dream about him constantly all the time even though I tell my head to forget about him.
I don’t even know how to comprehend forgiving him.
I’m still angry as fucking hell.
All I know is I miss him.
And I hate that I fucking miss him.
My finger hovers over the keypad for a moment, and I start typing.
Me: I’m not your girl.
I hesitate over the send button.
I go to push it, stop, and then groan out loud.
“Ah, fuck it!” I hit send, and with it, I stand, tapping my foot impatiently as the little ‘read’ sign comes up, followed by the three bouncing dots. My stomach flutters as I impatiently wait for him to write back.
Xander: Yes you are.
I giggle, tears forming in my eyes as I blink them away.
I don’t reply, leaving it just as we did over a month ago.
Sniffling, I grab my shit and head off to relieve Greta.
On my way home conflicting emotions swarm through me, rattling my already unsettled stomach. I’m pissed at Brent for sending me home early, but hearing from Xander has lit something in me. I’ve been moping about for the last month with my tail between my legs, hating him but missing him. The dueling emotions wreak havoc on my body as I try aimlessly to get through each meaningless damn day.
But knowing he’s still thinking of me has melted a little piece of my frozen heart.
I might be broken.
I might be weak.
But that message has perhaps mended a tiny crack.
I don’t know how.
I know why.
But even so, I can’t allow myself to get trapped in his web again.
All I know is no matter how hard I try, I can’t get Xander out of my head.
And when I do think of all the good times we shared, the flooding nightmare that he’s actually Alex comes soon after, and the tidal wave crashes over me once more.
I’m a mess.
But I need to be strong for Levi.
He’s my main focus right now.
So, I take a deep breath, steady my shoulders, and open the front door. Levi plays his video game in the family room. Calmness washes over me, knowing he’s doing okay tonight. I walk in, hang my bag on the rack, and kick off my flats. Greta glances up at me as she stands in the archway with a coffee in hand, her slightly graying hair up in a loose bun as she warmly greets me. “Hey, sweetheart, I wasn’t expecting you for another half hour?”
“Brent,” is all I reply.
She scrunches up her face as I peek in at Levi, who’s happily playing his game. “I swear you’re far too good for that place, Tomi. You need to find work at another tattoo studio. You’re wasting your talent.”
“You’re the second person to tell me that today,” I snort.
She tilts her head. “Think about it then? Promise me?” She pulls the mug up to her lips to take a sip of the steaming cup.
I nod. “How did Levi do at school today?”
Greta grimaces, gulping down a mouthful of her coffee. “He tried to throw a chair at a student. They had to shut the classroom down for a short time while they placated him. I was called to pick him up early.”
My eyes widen as I almost choke on thin air. “No. Really?”
She places her hand on my forearm sympathetically. “He wouldn’t open up to me about it. The principal was lenient because he didn’t actually throw the chair, but the intent was there.”
“Shit. Okay.” I sink in on myself. “Thanks for handling this till I got home.”
She rubs my arm tenderly in acknowledgment, reminding me she’s so much like my mom.
God, I miss her.
I sniffle as I exhale, walking past her to the sofa. Levi glances up as I enter. I try not to get in the way of the game when I sit down next to him. My feet ache like hell as I bring them up to rest on the coffee table.
Levi groans. Damn! I realize my mistake and shift them more to the middle of the table for him. I have no idea when he’s so focused on a game how he can still be so attuned to his surroundings. I recline into the sofa, my body feeling like death as I lean my head back into the plush cushions, waiting for Levi to be ready to talk to me. I don’t want to push him if he’s had a shitty day. The last thing I want is to trigger him again. He needs to know that behavior isn’t okay, but I need to know why he did it first.
But I have to let him come to me.
This is how we work.
“When is Xander coming over again?” he asks out of nowhere.
My eyes fling open as I drop my legs from the coffee table, sitting upright to stare right at him. “Wow! Where did this come from?”
He pauses his game and turns to me with a sad demeanor. “He’s my friend.”
My entire body deflates— he misses Xander just like I do.
Xander never once saw Levi for anything other than the bright spark he is.
“I know, buddy, I know.”
“So, can he come tonight?” he asks, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
It suddenly clicks.
I grab his hands. “Levi, did you get angry in class today because you miss Xander?”
His eyes dart around the room like he’s thinking. Then he finally glances back at me and nods. “He’s my friend.”
My chest squeezes as my eyes water. “You have friends at school, though, right?”
He scrunches his face. “They said I was weird, that I don’t have any friends. I told them Xander was my friend, and they didn’t believe me ’cause he hasn’t come in the car again.”
I clear my throat to try and stop myself from crying in front of him. “Xander is your friend, but you can’t use him as an excuse to try to hurt people, Levi. If those kids are picking on you, you tell a teacher or me. Or Greta. We will help you. There’s never an excuse for violence.”
He picks up his video game controller, turning away from me. “I understand. Don’t throw chairs. It’s bad. Xander is my friend. He will come to see me soon.” He turns the game back on, effectively ending the conversation and making me feel like I want to be physically ill.
Slowly, I stand from the sofa, making my way back over to Greta, who’s watching intently but also sympathetically. I’m almost stumbling as I try to keep my shit together. I can’t let Levi see me fall apart as I rush past Greta. She glances at me like she knows I need a moment before I head straight for the bathroom.
I’m upset.
I’m tired.
I’m run down.
And my stomach’s swirling like there’s a damn tornado going on in there. I open the bathroom door, then close it behind me. Walking to the basin, I turn on the faucet and wash my reddening face. The cold water on my skin soothes the irritation before I glance into the mirror to see my eyes puffing up and turning more bloodshot every second. “Get a grip, Tomi.”
Taking a deep breath, I turn, pulling down my panties to sit on the toilet. As I glance up at the ceiling, a thought pops into my head, and my stomach swirls again violently.
Then panic swarms through me.
When the hell was my last period?
I quickly finish on the toilet as I do the sums in my mind— I’ve definitely missed at least one.
It could be stress.
I’ve been under a lot of it lately.
I wash my hands in the basin then glance at myself in the mirror again. “Tomi, you idiot!”
Drying my hands first, I then rush out of the bathroom into the main room, slide on my shoes, and grab my bag. “Greta, I gotta go to the pharmacy. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I don’t wait for Greta to reply before I rush out the front door to get into my car. I’m moving about so fast I drop the keys on the concrete. “Goddammit,” I mumble, picking them up, then jump in my car and pull out. I take off like a shower of shit to get to the pharmacy before it closes.
What the hell am I going to do? If I’m pregnant, this is going to change everything. Do I even want a baby? I mean, I’m only twenty-five. I didn’t plan for this to happen just yet. Not with a man I’ve fallen for but equally despise.
I pull up at the pharmacy, rush inside, and quickly find the aisle with the tests, but of course, they only have a limited supply. The only one on their shelf at the moment is one which displays a damn smiley face if you’re pregnant. Panic washes over me, but I need to know for sure, either way. So I grab two and run to the cashier.
I can’t even wait to get home to take it—the thought of this kills me.
“Excuse me, do you have a bathroom I could use?” I ask the uninterested clerk.
She points to the other side of the shop, where there’s a small bathroom.
I sigh a breath of relief. “Thank you,” I reply, not that she cares.
Briskly, I walk to the bathroom with my paper bag of pregnancy tests. I open the door and walk in, nerves rattle my entire body. That swirling in my stomach has intensified even more as I make my way to a stall and sit down.
I pull out a test, unwrap it, and stop for a minute to simply take a breath. The next few minutes could dramatically alter the course of my life and Levi’s. I need to take a beat and try to calm myself. Taking in a few long, deep breaths, they come in staggered and shallow. No matter what I do, I’m not calming down.
I need just to do this.
Get it over with.
So, I use the stick and then place it on the toilet roll holder out of my field of sight to try not to think about it for the next three minutes.
They roll by the slowest in the history of time itself.
I’ve never had a longer wait in my life.
I’m sure it hasn’t even been the full three, but I can’t wait any longer, so I pick up the stick. My eyes narrow, but I peek at the display to see a smiley face brightly illuminated.
My stomach falls through the floor, my eyes shoot wide open while I bring the stick closer to examine it. A tidal wave of emotions erupts through my body as I flush with a surge of heat. I’m so hot as I grab the front of my dress and fan it.
I can’t place the emotions running through me.
Am I happy?
Am I freaking out?
I’m simply unsure.
The only thing I am sure of is that I’m pregnant.
With Xander’s baby.
No, with Alex’s baby.
Right now, I can’t fathom what the hell I’m going to do with this information.
Abruptly, my stomach swirls as bile creeps up my throat. My stomach lurches as I jump, spinning around before I’m physically ill into the bowl. I cough and splutter, heaving as tears prick my eyes.
Eventually, I slump onto the tiled floor.
Then, shock hits me.
I have no idea what the hell I’m going to do.
I have no one to turn to for advice.
No mother or father I can run to who will help me.
No sister to give me a pep talk.
I’m all alone in this.
There’s only one thing I can do—suck it up and go home. So, I sniff back my emotions, flush, and grab my things, including my positive test. I might not be sure how to feel, but this baby is a part of me. Whether I like it or not, it’s happening—this test stick is worth keeping.
Standing, I straighten myself out and rinse my mouth with water. I pack the test back in the box and place it in the paper bag, then head to my car and home.
Now I understand what’s been going on for the last month or so.
Why I have felt so off.
I’m pregnant.
Holy shit.
Still, with the amount of sex we were having, and the fact my brain left town barebacking for most of it, I guess I can’t blame anyone but myself.
I take a breath before I turn the handle and walk through my front door. I place my bag and things on the counter as I walk in, making sure to keep the tests with me. The house smells of a baking cake as Greta walks out of the kitchen to greet me. Her expression instantly tells me she knows something’s up.
She steps up to me, glancing down at the paper bag I’m holding, then back up at me. “I’ve been watching you the past month. You’re running yourself ragged. What’s going on with you?”
Exhaling, I open the bag handing her the positive test back in its container without saying a word.
Greta exhales, her body slouching. “This is okay. Every life is a precious life, my dear. We will get through this together. If you need me more, I’ll be here, for you, for Levi, no matter what you need.”
My heart warms with the love oozing from Greta. I’d be so lost without her. It’s only now that I realize I’m not alone. I have her, I have Levi, I have Jana, Hogtie, Gigi, and Skins. If I need any of them, they would come at any time.
They may not be blood, but they are family.
I lean forward, taking Greta into a massive embrace. She’s the mother figure missing in my life, the mother I need.
Greta pulls back, gazing into my eyes. “I know you don’t want to hear this, sweet girl, but the father has to know, no matter how much you might despise him.”
My stomach rolls again.
I grimace with a single nod of my head.
Shit.