Chapter 39
Sadie
Ileft the office in tears. It seemed to be becoming a pattern.
Go into Jeremiah’s office, and come out crying.
I couldn’t give two damns what people thought or what they were speculating as I rushed toward the elevator, clutching my purse, desperate to get out of there.
Unlike Jeremiah, who was only concerned about everyone’s perception of him.
I realized those opinions would always come before me. Before our baby.
It was a heartbreaking realization, especially when I was beginning to think we were finally on the same page. We weren’t even in the same book.
As I pushed through the glass doors of the lobby, I breathed in the fresh air outside and tried to clear out the words that still laid heavy in my heart.
I unbuttoned the lapel of my blazer, trying to free myself from the suffocating feeling that enveloped me.
I pulled my phone from my purse and called Erica.
I needed to talk to someone. If anyone would understand, it was her.
She had been through her own ups and downs in pregnancy with a man she couldn’t seem to figure things out with, until finally, they got it together.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Can you meet me?” I asked urgently.
“Is everything okay? Is baby okay? Are you okay?”
“Baby is fine. Me, not so much.”
“I’m coming.” I could hear her ruffling papers, and guessed she was at work at the newspaper she ran.
“Thank you,” I said gratefully. “Usual spot?”
“Save me a seat.”
I smiled weakly and hung up, heading down the block to the nearby coffee shop we frequented.
I found a small table at the back of the shop, ordering a hot peppermint tea for me and a vanilla latte for Erica.
Fifteen minutes passed before I saw her walk through the wooden door, looking around worriedly.
I lifted my hand and gave her a little wave before she strode toward me, her dark hair bouncing with each step.
“Sadie,” she said breathlessly, taking the seat across from me.
“Did you sprint here?” I asked with a weak smile.
“Practically!” she panted. “What is going on?”
“It’s over. The whole thing with Jeremiah. It’s done,” I said, keeping my voice steady as it threatened to break.
“What? Why? I thought things were going well.” She slid off her white linen blazer and slung it on the back of her chair, revealing her tan skin damp with sweat.
I shook my head, looking at the paper cup I held, its warmth seeping into my hands. I felt the tears burn the back of my eyes, but tried hard to blink them back.
“I thought so too, but every time things get back on the right track, he derails us again.”
“What is it this time?” asked Erica, her lips pulling into a slight scowl of disapproval.
“He was always intending on keeping me and the baby a secret. Not just now, but even after the baby is born.”
“But you live with him. He asked you to move in. You’re sharing a home, building a life. I don’t get it.”
“He’s scared of the scandal. What it will do to his business. His reputation.”
“Because being a father is career-ending.” Erica rolled her eyes.
“He seems to think so when he’s the father of his gold-digging assistant.” My voice broke, remembering his words, and the tears flowed into quiet sobs.
Erica frantically grabbed napkins from the dispenser on the table and handed them to me.
“He did not say that,” she said shocked.
I nodded. “Aren’t I though?” I threw my hands up in the air. “I live in his penthouse rent-free and let him buy me clothes and all the things the baby needs. I mean, he’s not far off…”
I started second-guessing myself, even though my intentions were never to take anything from Jeremiah. I just wanted to be with him, and believed him taking care of me was his way of showing he was ready for a family.
“Stop that,” said Erica firmly as I dabbed at my eyes with a napkin.
She gave me a moment to get myself together, watching me carefully.
“How did you and Marco figure it all out?” I asked.
Erica took a sip of her latte, looking thoughtful before she looked back to me.
“It took us a while, you know. Our situation was different. I kept our baby a secret from him because I was scared. But the truth eventually came out, as it always does, and we had to work through our shit. We had our own baggage we carried, but we realized we loved each other enough, and our baby enough, to make it work.”
I nodded, taking another sip of tea. It seemed so easy for them, but I was there when she was going through it.
I knew it was anything but easy. Erica had gone through her own hell, but she found her happy ending.
It was hard to believe the same thing could happen for me and Jeremiah. Lightning didn’t strike twice.
“I know you’re hurting,” said Erica softly. “But I also know how badly you wanted the whole happy family thing with him. Maybe it’s not over yet. Take some time. Think it through.”
“Yeah,” I murmured, feeling more confused than ever.
“You know I’ll support you either way, and your baby is already so loved by me and Auntie Gabrielle. We’ve got you, Sadie.”
She reached across the table and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. I gave her a thankful look just as her phone buzzed on the table.
“Shit,” she said, picking it up and glancing at the screen. “I’m needed back at the paper.”
“Go, go.” I waved her off.
“You sure?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” she said, standing. She rounded the table and gave me a big hug. “Thanks for the coffee. Call me later.”
I gave her a reassuring smile and watched her grab her jacket and purse before weaving between the wooden tables toward the exit of the coffee shop.
I felt better. I took a deep, shaky breath, determined to figure this whole thing out.
I grabbed my tea and made my way toward the door.
I hailed a cab and took it to Central Park, finding the same park bench where I had watched the ducks.
I was relieved to find it empty and settled against the sun-soaked bench, the wood warm against me.
There were no ducks in sight, which made me feel even more alone.
But that was why I was here. To be alone with my thoughts.
And my tears apparently because they began to fall again.
I silently let them, holding my head in my hands.
I felt the bench creak as someone sat next to me.
Embarrassed, I quickly wiped my tears away before lifting my head.
I sucked in a breath when I saw Anderson sitting next to me, staring straight ahead at the lake.
What the hell was he doing here? A wave of fear washed over me, thinking back to Jeremiah’s warning.
As if feeling my gaze, he turned to me, offering me a warm smile.
“Here,” he said, reaching into his pocket. I braced myself slightly, but relaxed when I saw it was a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. I shook my head slightly.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
“I-I should be going,” I stammered. “I shouldn’t be here.”
He looked confused for a moment, but as if realizing something, he put his handkerchief back in his pocket and gave a knowing nod.
“I see Jeremiah told you about me,” he said.
“Yes, he did.”
“Or maybe it was just his side of things.” He shrugged easily, leaning back against the bench and looking out at the lake again.
I didn’t say anything and followed his gaze.
“He’s always been a good liar, that Jeremiah,” said Anderson. “It’s why we aren’t friends anymore.”
“Wh-what?” I asked, wiping the remaining tears from my cheeks.
“Jeremiah dragged me into a lot of trouble when we were younger. Stealing, lying, getting us involved with the wrong people. We were young and dumb, desperate to survive in the city. You do stupid things when you’re hungry and homeless.”
It sounded just like the story Jeremiah told me, except the roles were flipped. I knew I should get up and leave, knowing everything I had heard about Anderson, but he seemed so kind. So convincing.
“He told you about the street gang?” he asked, looking over at me with a weak smile.
“Yes.”
“It’s a good thing I was too afraid to go through with it. If I had, who knew where I would be. Where we would both be.”
“You were afraid?”
“Oh yeah,” he said with a shake of his head, as if remembering. He chuckled to himself as he settled further into the bench, draping his arm behind me. I was suddenly hyperaware of his presence, the hair on my arms standing up. “It feels like a damn lifetime ago. It was all so ridiculous.
“You know, I tried to make amends with him a few months ago,” Anderson continued.
“Really? He didn’t tell me that,” I said in surprise.
“I doubt he would. He wasn’t keen on the idea. He rejected my attempt at finding our way back to being friends again. We had history, you know?” A reminiscent look washed over Anderson’s dark eyes. “But Jeremiah…he always has to hate someone. There’s so much anger in him. He thrives on it.”
I hated how I found comfort in his words. How I agreed with them. Jeremiah was stuck in his past, scared of the world. Pushing everyone in it away. Stewing in his own angry memories.
“If you’re a smart girl, which I believe you are, you’ll leave him,” said Anderson, his thumb stroking my shoulder gently.
It felt wrong and comforting at the same time. My insides were torn up. If I weren’t conflicted already, Anderson’s version of events was making me question everything. Maybe Jeremiah was worse than I thought.
When I left the coffee shop, I was leaning toward working things out with him.
Like we always did, so we could build the life I had imagined for us.
The life I thought we both had imagined.
But Anderson was planting seeds of doubt in my mind, each one slowly sprouting and spreading.
It felt unfair to Jeremiah, letting a near stranger have this kind of pull on me.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Sadie,” said Anderson, his words smooth as silk as he slid his hand down my shoulder and back up in comforting strokes.
“Th-thank you,” I whispered, feeling frozen on the bench, even though part of me was screaming to run.
“You deserve someone who sees that,” he continued. “With that smile. Good heart. That figure.” He whistled as I felt his eyes wander over me slowly.
“You could have anyone you wanted,” he said, leaning closer, his breath warm against my cheek. “Hell, you could have the whole fucking world if you picked the right man who would love you enough to give it to you. You shouldn’t pick the one who makes you cry.”
I stiffened slightly as I realized how close we were. I could smell his cologne, every bit as sensual as he was, with every heavy inhale. My heart began pounding in my chest.
This wasn’t right.
He leaned in further, reaching his hand to gently turn my face toward his. I searched his black eyes fearfully to find any truth in them, but came up empty-handed. They weren’t the piercing blue eyes I was used to. The ones I wanted. I pulled my head back slightly about to tell him to stop.
But suddenly his hand was torn away from my face as he was being lifted from the bench and thrown on the grass.