Chapter 14
The week passed amidst a torrential downpour before I saw Ian again.
Caught up in the daily grind of work and spending every free moment at the hospital, I wasn’t prepared to face him yet.
If I was being honest, I wouldn’t ever be ready to cast him aside again.
I watched Eve slumber peacefully, grateful for the hour Gage had given me, and thought back to the day seven years ago when I told Ian goodbye.
We’d stood in my driveway, too consumed with despair to care about the rainstorm soaking us.
After being inseparable friends for three years, we’d finally given in to the feelings neither of us could deny any longer.
If I had to list my favorite moments in life, that night with Ian would be at the top.
No one had ever made me feel the way he had… cherished, worshipped, loved.
But then everything fell apart when I realized I was pregnant with Rick’s baby.
Rick and I had been together for a year—a rocky on-again, off-again year filled with screaming arguments and too many tears to count.
He’d revealed a hint of his dark nature as the months went by: jealous, possessive, mean-spirited.
I’d eventually hit a crossroads—either continue down a destructive path with him, or risk my friendship with Ian by turning it into something more.
I’d chosen the latter, experienced a small taste of happiness, and had thrown it all away before something truly amazing could bloom.
Going back to my ex had been a misguided attempt at doing the right thing by my baby.
How naive I’d been. I closed my eyes to the memory of that first beating, the one that began them all…
the one that ended my first pregnancy just shy of twelve weeks.
Even now I asked myself why I’d stayed so long…
even knowing how I would never regret the decision; Eve wouldn’t be here if I’d left sooner.
I didn’t allow myself to think of the past often, but I didn’t have a choice now.
The memories seeped through the cracks of the metaphorical room in which I’d locked them.
They flooded me, especially the night I’d told Ian I didn’t love him.
Raindrops had disguised his tears, but not the devastation in the depths of those hazel eyes I still dreamed about seven years later.
“Hey, if you’re gonna cry every time I come near you, maybe I should bring chocolate.” I raised my head and found the object of my thoughts standing in the doorway. He frowned, despite the light tone of his words, and closed the door behind him. “How’s Eve?”
I took a deep breath. “You should go.”
“You have a habit of telling me that.” He folded his arms and leaned against the door.
“I can’t handle seeing you right now. Eve started a new treatment yesterday, and I’m under a lot of pressure at work right now…” Under Gage Channing’s watchful eye. “I’m glad you’re back, but I think we need a few weeks to let things settle first.”
“Meaning you’re gonna barricade yourself from people and deal with her illness alone.” He shook his head and pulled up a chair, legs scraping the linoleum, and settled across from me on the other side of the bed. “You look like hell. Have you gotten any sleep at all?”
“Not much,” I admitted quietly. Unable to tear myself away as the weekend approached, I’d slept at Eve’s bedside for the past two nights. “You really need to go.”
He leaned forward, and his eyes—greener today than usual—froze me to the spot. “Don’t shut me out. I won’t walk away this time. I’ve regretted it every day for seven years.”
“I need you to stay away from me and Eve for the next few weeks. Please…I’m begging you.”
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you—” I broke off, cringing at the slip-up. “Please, just go.”
“You’re worrying me, Kayla.” He rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.” Firming my resolve, I met his unyielding stare. “I need for you to leave me alone. I don’t want to see you, or hear from you—”
He sprung to his feet, and every muscle in his body tensed. “So we’re doing this again? Is it someone else? If you’re involved with someone, just say so. I won’t like it, but I can deal with it.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, and his shoulders relaxed a fraction as he waited for a reply.
Waited for me to deny it.
I stared at my shoes—spiky heels that made my feet ache and reminded me of the man who’d trapped me. Saying I was seeing someone would be the easiest solution to this dilemma. “There’s no one else.” I looked up and met Ian’s gaze. “There’s no one else,” I repeated. “I just need time.”
“Take all the time you need.” He flung the door open. “I hope you don’t take another seven years to figure it out.”