Chapter 4
I’ve been driving around aimlessly for an hour.
After my mini meltdown in the kitchen with Jayson, I needed to be alone for a little while so I could think.
Ryder was still asleep, and Jayson said he would stick around while I was gone.
I drove to the cemetery, wanting desperately to talk to Mom and Dad.
I never made it out of the car, my promise to Hailey that we would go together preventing me from opening my car door.
Instead, I drove to Ryder’s quiet spot on the hill; the place he took me to after our first date and again a couple of weeks ago.
But bittersweet memories of us dancing under the night sky had me turning the car around.
Thanksgiving was the last time I danced with Ryder.
My fingers slide up his palm, and he pulls me to stand.
Needing to feel his hard muscles beneath my fingertips, I glide one hand up the crisp dress shirt molded to his chest. My palm flattens over his beating heart.
I curl the fingers of my other hand around his and step into his body.
His free hand trails a path to my lower back, pulling me in tighter until there is not one inch separating us. And we slow dance.
This is the memory I will cherish about this Thanksgiving. Me in Ryder’s arms as we dance around Fallon’s living room. I hope to dance with him every Thanksgiving for the rest of our lives.
That forever may be taken from me.
Now I find myself in a very similar circumstance to one I was in before. The one where I’m standing in front of two massive double oak doors. Luckily, Fate intervenes once again as the man I came to see opens the door wide; that beautiful, cocky smirk on his face.
“Kitten.”
“Fallon.”
“This seems oddly déjà vu-ish.”
“Except it’s daytime.”
“True.”
He reaches for my hand and pulls me inside, like he did that night. But unlike that night, Fallon immediately wraps me in a hug, his hand cradling the back of my neck as he holds me to him. I should be dry of tears by now, having cried rivers for days on end, yet they still fall.
“I would ask how you’re holding up,” he says.
I chuckle despite the desolation I’m feeling. “Not good.”
“Me neither.”
Ryder’s illness has delivered a blow to all of us.
I lean into his strength, allowing it to prop me up. I used to be afraid of Fallon. Wary. Unsure. God, I was so stupid. Well, Old Elizabeth was. To New Elizabeth, the girl I am now, Fallon is her hero. Her protector. I need that right now. I need him.
“Can we talk?” I ask, pulling back and smoothing down his shirt soaked through with my tears. “I’m sorry,” I lamely say.
“It’s a shirt, kitten.”
“Probably a two-hundred-dollar one.”
His bark of laughter has me smiling. I’ve come to appreciate each and every time he smiles or laughs, knowing they are few and far between. They tend to come easier whenever he’s with me, and I take great pride in knowing that I can do that for him.
We walk toward the living room where a fire crackles in the hearth.
The awe of this place never ceases to amaze me.
The mansion is enormous and inside is like stepping foot in the Louvre or a grand, royal palace.
And it always smells like a rose garden with the various vases of fresh flowers decorating almost every surface in each room.
“Want something to drink? Coffee?”
I stopped drinking caffeine as soon as I saw the positive pregnancy results. It’s a personal choice. Decaf peppermint or chamomile hot tea from now on. It royally sucks. No coffee for nine months is going to be pure torture.
“Water or ginger ale would be nice, thanks.” I tend to get a second bout of morning sickness midday. I started throwing up a week ago. That’s when I knew something was wrong. Or right, depending on how you look at it.
Fallon leaves to fetch our drinks instead of calling for them to be brought to us.
Foregoing the couch, I curl up with my legs tucked underneath me on the Persian rug in front of the warm fire.
The massive marble fireplace isn’t one of those gas-burning ones, and the smell of charred wood is pleasing.
A lot of smells now make me nauseous. I guess it’s a pregnancy thing.
What a cliché I’ve become. Pregnant at seventeen. Well, I’ll be eighteen in a month, but still.
I jump when Fallon sits down beside me, so lost in the dancing flickers of flame and my own thoughts, I didn’t hear him come back.
“How’s our boy doing today?”
“Still asleep when I left. Jayson skipped this morning and is at the house now. He’ll text me if anything comes up.”
“What do I owe the surprise visit? Not that I’m complaining. But you did make the trip out here without knowing if I’d be home. So whatever you want to talk to me about must be pretty important.”
I didn’t even consider he might not be here or would be at work before heading this way.
“Shoot. I’m so sorry. Do you need to leave or go to MP? We can talk later,” I apologize, starting to stand up, only to be pulled back down by his hand on my arm.
“You will always come first, kitten, so sit your ass down.”
“Why?” I blurt.
“Why what?”
Why do I come first? Why me? I had asked him similar questions while we were on his yacht sailing to New York City. He never would give me a straight answer.
“Nothing. Forget it,” I answer.
“Elizabeth, what’s going on? You’re acting cagey. You show up on my doorstep out of the blue—again. You’re not telling me someth—”
“I’m pregnant.” Shut up, stupid word vomit. Pregnancy must also make you lose your ever-loving mind.
Fallon rears back like I’ve slapped him, his ice blue eyes going wide with shock. “You’re… fu—.”
His expletive is long and drawn out. I start laughing. It’s so reminiscent of the night my memories came back when I confessed to him that I had slept with Jayson. Yep. My brain has definitely taken a vacation.
“What do you need?”
My laughter dies as abruptly as it began. This freaking guy. In what universe am I worthy of his friendship?
“This. You,” I tell him honestly. “Letting me vent and rant and scream and cry when I need to because I can’t do it in front of the others. I can’t do it in front of Ryder. He needs me to be strong.”
Fallon shifts and brings me between his legs so that my back is to his front and his arms are holding me tight. The heat from the fire and his body sandwich me in a cocoon of warmth, and I slowly relax.
“Secret for a secret,” I say.
An ember pops and sparks out from the fireplace, only to be caught by the mesh grate, the red glow slowly diminishing until it disappears completely.
“You first,” he counters, dipping his chin to my shoulder.
“The baby may be Jayson’s.”
He sighs, causing a few whisps of my hair to flutter around my temple and cheek. “I figured as much.”
“Jayson knows.”
“Does Ry?”
“No. I want him to get through his chemo and the transplant graft first before I drop this bomb on him. But Jayson wants me to tell him now and not wait.”
His cheek rubs against mine as he nods in understanding. “Waiting could mean months, Elizabeth. During the ablative chemo, Ry will be in isolation to protect him from exposure to germs, and then recovery after the graft can take months. Are you sure you want to wait that long?”
Yes. No. “I don’t know.”
“And that’s if nothing unexpected happens.”
My heart strangles itself with fear of the unknown. He’s right. We can’t take a second for granted now.
“What do you think I should do?” I turn my head on his shoulder so I can see his face.
“Do you want to keep the baby?”
I try to move away from him, but he just tightens his hold on me.
“That’s a stupid question to ask me! Of course, I do!”
“I know you do, but I still needed to hear you say it. My opinion is: don’t wait. The fact that I’m agreeing with Jay makes me want to punch something, preferably him. But he’s right. Even if you think the baby is Jay’s, Ry needs to know.”
“If Ryder is worrying about me, the extra stress could set him back.”
“He isn’t going to care who the father is.”
“How can you say that? Of course, he’s going to care.” I squirm in his arms, trying to break free, but it’s like he’s a human octopus.
“You know him better than that,” Fallon comments.
“He should care,” I argue.
“He won’t.” Fallon removes his right hand from mine and spreads it across my lower abdomen as if he can already feel the baby kicking and growing there. “This kid is going to be loved so damned much because he or she is going to be yours.”
My heartstrings are pulled taut with those words and the fight in me evaporates like mist in the sun.
“Have you seen an obstetrician?”
“I was going to call and make an appointment, try to get something scheduled after school one day this week. I also need to talk with Coach about track. I was really looking forward to that.”
Coach had promised me a spot on the team for the spring, but it looks like that’s now out the window. My old music teacher wants me to enter the state-wide public school music competition again this year. I was supposed to do it junior year, but then the car accident…so, yeah.
“Once it’s scheduled, let me know. I’m coming to that appointment and if you open your mouth to tell me that I don’t have to, we’re going to have words,” he threatens.
Fallon has a way of making me smile when I feel like there’s nothing good to smile about.
“I love you, Fallon,” I tell him, knowing he’ll understand the meaning.
Fallon has dug in and cemented himself in my heart just like Ryder, Jayson, and Julien did when I was a young girl. And I am so proud to be able to call him my friend. I don’t care if no one other than Ryder gets it. They don’t know Fallon like we do.
“I know you do, kitten. And if you haven’t figured it out, I love you, too.”