Chapter 11 #2
I picked up the nearest object—a plate—and threw it at the TV. The plate shattered into bits against the screen, sending bits of porcelain and cookie crumbs to the floor. The screen was covered in black rectangles, but the speakers were still perfect.
“I can’t wait ‘till Dad comes back from the war,” said the stupid boy. “Then we can shoot bad guys together!”
I launched up from the couch, yanked the TV out of the wall, and threw it to the floor. I held my breath through the initial crash, but let out a long, soothing exhale in the silence that followed.
When I opened my eyes, I took in what Olivia had done to the media room.
She had strung multi-colored lights on the dark paneled walls, lined the cabinets of the bar with plastic evergreen garland, and taped a fat, glittery golden bow right on top of the framed poster listing all of Lindsay University’s national championship wins.
I walked over to the little Christmas tree and admired the cherry red and bright gold ornaments. I wrapped my hand around an odd, lumpy disk hanging off a high branch to find that it had Titus’s paw print stamped on it.
A flash of green beneath the tree caught my eye. Wrapped in shining emerald paper and gold ribbon was a present with my name on the tag.
Olivia had…bought me a present?
I carefully tore through the tape and unwrapped the paper to find a set of pajamas in the box.
Well, it wasn’t exactly a set. Olivia had paired blue plaid flannel pajama bottoms with a navy “Elren Oilers” cotton long-sleeve.
I couldn’t remember the last time I wore an Elren Oilers shirt and I couldn’t remember the last time I had exchanged Christmas presents with anyone, either.
Maybe I was too quick to accuse Olivia of not trying.
My eyes moved from the Christmas decorations to the ruined TV on the floor—yeah, I was definitely too quick to point fingers.
I blew out a breath as I rested the back of my head against the wall.
I was tempted to blame Olivia’s outburst on her hormones, but that felt too simple.
She had always gone the extra mile because she had a chip on her shoulder about needing to prove herself for whatever reason.
Creating a Christmas explosion all over my media room was proof that she still had that drive in her, but why couldn’t she just care for herself?
I would have thought Olivia would have been grateful for the easy days I had given her, but maybe it was too easy.
She had always run around like her feet were on fire between study hall or whatever new club she had signed up for, so I could only imagine how busy she would have been as a lawyer in a big firm.
Losing that lifestyle must have felt like being a racecar crashing into a brick wall.
How…sad. That was it. Between the shock at the initial doctor’s appointment to refusing to care for herself, Olivia was just sad. If I were spending weeks alone grieving a life that I had lost, I might also count down the days until the pregnancy was over.
I looked down at the box in my hands. And yet, she had still bought me a Christmas present.
I groaned. Keeping Olivia at a distance made me look like an asshole, but I didn’t have much of a choice. If she had only known what had happened in my past, she’d give me a little grace.
Or she’d run to her gossipy best friend and ruin me.
God, Olivia was a fucking conundrum. I didn’t trust her, but that didn’t mean I thought of her as a cow. Where had that even come from? And why had she brought up graduation, of all things?
She was the one who had been a terror that day. As if her valedictorian medal hadn’t been flashy enough, she had to wear all the medals from debate team and the fucking marching band, making them all clang together when she walked like a…
My eyes widened as ice trickled through my veins. Oh…oh God.
I ran a hand down my face, wishing I could brick up the door to the media room and stay there, but I couldn’t just hide. I could almost feel Grandpa’s spirit whacking me with his cane to steer me in the direction of the kitchen.
I had to fix this, for the sake of my babies. If that meant I had to let a couple of the skeletons out of my closet to get her to understand, so be it.
So, against all my self-preservation instincts, I went to the kitchen. As I moved through the house, the sounds of Olivia’s sobbing got louder until I found her in a heap on the floor by the kitchen island.
A younger version of myself would have loved to see the smug, proud Olivia Adams cry on my kitchen floor—to witness her finally knowing what it feels like to lose.
The present Beau, however, watched Olivia’s tears drench her sleeves and felt like the smallest man on Earth.
Olivia looked up at the sound of my approaching feet and her eyes traveled up my body. I had put on the pajamas she had given me as sort of an olive branch. Though the flannel was cozy, I couldn’t feel comfortable just yet.
“I’ve been an asshole,” I admitted.
She nodded and looked down. “I…I barely cried when my mom died. I didn’t even shed a tear when I got fired from my dream job, or when I found out I was pregnant, b-but here I am now.”
She wiped the glistening tear tracks off her face with the heel of her palm. “I…I hate what you’ve done to me.”
My stomach filled with lead. I would have rather she stood up and slapped me than say something that loaded. I wasn’t sure if she meant that she hated that I made her cry, or if the sentiment went deep enough that she hated me for making her a mother.
I rubbed the back of my neck. My lifetime of horrible luck had transferred to her as soon as we left that attic at our class reunion. I couldn’t restore her old life, but hopefully I could try to repair what I had broken.
Slowly, I sat on the floor across from her. My throat twitched as I worked up the nerve to speak.
The truth was dangerous, my mom had always said. The “Fontaine facade” was a decades-old trick—we hid our feelings, our thoughts, and our plans to protect ourselves from the leeches of the world. We kept people away. We ran from problems and covered up everything we couldn’t escape.
But I couldn’t escape Olivia. I had to face my old rival once again, but this time I hoped we could both leave the kitchen with at least a small victory.
And first...I had to start with an apology I should have said a decade ago.
“I was pissed off at our graduation,” I admitted. “Your medals sounded like you were wearing a cow bell when you walked so that’s why I…”
I couldn’t say it. I knew I was being a little shit when I actually mooed at her when she crossed the graduation stage, but I never thought it would bring me so much shame after all this time.
I swallowed. “That’s why I did what I did. I never considered how it would have come across…or how it would have made you feel. I’m sorry.”
She looked up at me and sniffed. “You were that upset about coming in second place?”
No, but I wasn’t ready to tell her the real reason.
I ran my hands down the flannel pants. The back of my neck warmed and I chewed on my lip. It was exactly as Mom had warned—as soon as I opened up a little bit, more would come flooding out. I couldn’t stop what was coming, but maybe I could limit what I admitted to.
“And…I was a jerk at the hospital, but it wasn’t because of you,” I said.
“Grandpa died there, Christmas break of my sophomore year of college. It was…” I swallowed, trying not to remember what the doctors had done to Elren’s greatest man.
“…horrendous. I was by his side when…when it happened. Clear case of medical neglect.”
She blinked away a tear. “Did you sue?”
I almost laughed, because of course she would ask.
I rested my head against a lower kitchen cabinet, not caring that I was getting protein shake in my hair, and let my eyes wander up to the white enameled ceiling that resembled clouds of icing. “I did, but we settled. All I got was money, there was no justice.”
I still remembered the sound of the paper sliding against that overly-lacquered table at the law office.
I had wanted to throw the settlement offer back in my lawyer’s face, but Mom held me back.
My lawyer had explained that Grandpa’s medical records would be made public if we went to trial.
Mom gave me a pointed look and shook her head, so I clenched my teeth and picked up the pen.
My hands gripped my knees as I remembered that lawyer’s eyes lighting up like a fucking cash register as I signed my name on that settlement.
If that wasn’t the moment that solidified that I was just big game in a money-hunting world, then…
I closed my eyes, wishing I could cover my mouth with tape instead of admitting what was about to come out.
Though if Olivia was hurt because of how I reacted to her pregnancy, I needed to tell her why I had done it.
The last thing I had wanted to do was rip open that scabbed-over wound, but I would do it for my babies.
I pried my eyes from the ceiling and looked at Olivia. She stared back at me, her eyes soft with fatigue but dry. Her face was splotchy and her shoulders were slumped forward. She was completely and utterly pathetic—harmless.
Yet I was still terrified.
With a silent gulp, I swallowed my cowardice. Though I couldn’t open the iron vault and let all my secrets out, I would let Olivia Adams have just one more.
“I was engaged once,” I said.
Her eyes dropped to the floor. “Oh.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “Her name was Katie. I met her freshman year at Lindsay and we were together all through college.” My tongue suddenly felt too heavy in my mouth, but I couldn’t stop talking. “Right before spring break of our senior year, she told me she was pregnant.”
Olivia’s eyes met mine. “The pregnancy wasn’t real, was it?”
Damn it, Olivia. Always smarter than me.
My eyes prickled with heat and I held up my hands before dropping them back into my lap.
“I proposed as soon as I found out. I even took her to Paris so she could pick out a ring. I remember she would choose one and I’d keep telling her to get a bigger diamond.
” A hollow laugh escaped my lips and I shrugged.
“Most guys would have panicked but I was just…so excited to be a dad.”
I let out another shallow laugh. And I was an idiot, a fucking idiot.
Shaking my head, I met her eyes again. “I…didn’t take it well when I found out the truth.”
I held back the gory details of the explosive breakup—tossing a whole box of wedding invitations into the firepit, blinking away cold tears as I shut that nursery door for the last time, and spending years trolling clubs as I tried but failed to numb the pain and paranoia Katie fucking caused me.
“She never had a reason to lie,” I said. “She wanted my money, but I would have given her a glass jar full of stars if she had asked. All I wanted, all I needed from her, was to trust her, and…”
I swallowed and nearly collapsed under the weight of the moment. Olivia merely looked at me—not mocking me, not chastising me for being foolish, not even pitying me, really—but still I felt completely naked as I sat on the kitchen floor.
With little else to lose, I released the last confession I could bear. “…and now I can’t trust anyone. No one but my mom and my finance guy, of all people.”
“I’m sorry,” Olivia softly responded.
“It’s not your fault, I just—” I reflexively opened my hand and closed it, as if I were trying to catch something.
I pursed my lips and gently tapped my closed fist on top of my knee. Fuck, might as well say it.
“I’m sorry that I…disrupted your life,” I said. “I approached you at the reunion because I wanted to mess with you—to get some vengeance after we were so shitty to each other in high school. I never thought we would end up here but…”
Her hands moved over her belly. There they were, real as could be. My babies.
I let out a breath, but then forced myself to look up at her. “I might be the biggest mistake of your life, but you’re not a mistake to me.”
“Beau…”
“I regret how I did it, but I don’t regret what I did.” I chewed on my tongue. God, I sounded like an asshole. “I never thought I would get to be a dad again and…”
“Beau…”
“Thank you,” I said in an exhale. “Thank you for letting me disrupt your life so I can finally be a father.”
Her hands stayed on her belly and she gave me the softest smile. Maybe that meant she accepted my pathetic ramble of an apology.
“OK,” I sighed as I slumped backward against the cabinets. “I’m done. What is it?”
Olivia’s eyes shined with tears. “I feel the babies.”
My heart stopped. “Y-you do?”
She poked near the pocket of her hoodie. “Here.” Then her other hand poked at a lower spot. “And here.”
Now it was my turn to be speechless.
Her face grew serious. “I think it’s obvious that neither of us would have picked the other to have a baby with—much less two of them.”
I nodded.
“But I’ll make you a deal this time, Beau Fontaine III.” Her smile returned, but only a little bit. “I can accept your help, but not if you ice me out. You don’t trust me to not hurt you and I can’t trust you to not hurt me, but…”
She flattened her hands against her belly and looked down. “…we have to try.”
“I’ll try if you try,” I promised. “But, hey, the pregnancy will be over before you know it, then everything can go back to normal.”
“Only five months left—law school was longer than that.” Her smile grew bigger. “I’ll get to go back to my apartment and get a new job…and never have to wake up to you shoving a giant yellow tumbler in my face.”
I laughed. “And I’ll never have to dodge flying protein shakes. I’ll finally have my peace and quiet back.”
The earliest glimmers of sunlight streamed in through the kitchen window and stretched across the floor. Slowly, I stood and extended a hand to Olivia. She raised an eyebrow, but finally let me help her up.
As soon as her hand met my palm, a rush of warmth shot up my arm. I blinked and held my breath.
Five months. Five months and then everything goes back to normal.
The instant Olivia was steady on her feet, I let her go and shoved my hand into the pocket of my pajamas.
And then I made her as many pancakes as she could eat.