Chapter 45
Alyssia
“What time is your appointment?” Kandace asks from my bedroom doorway.
Two days after my blow up with Travis, Kandace showed up on my doorstep. He’d made all of the arrangements for her to be here with me, according to my best friend.
She’s been here for almost weeks now and I don’t want to think about her leaving. Not when my heart is still aching because it hurts to think about Travis too much.
He was on his summer break from racing, but aside from a few visits to ask how I’m feeling and some phone calls, we haven’t engaged much. It hurts too much to look at him.
Hurt and anger mix every time I look and think of him.
“Thirty minutes,” I mumble.
“We’ll walk over, right? It’s not too much for you?” she asks, making her way to the bed.
“Walking is good for me,” I say.
Kandace wraps her arm around my shoulder. “We’ll get through this. His mom is coming, too, right?”
This is my second to last appointment before I officially hit my fortieth week. As of now, the progression of my pregnancy and growth of the baby has all been flawless, and the plan is to allow my labor to happen naturally.
Mrs. Townsend is in town and comes over almost every day. I’m grateful both she and Kandace will be with me at today’s appointment.
Travis is out of town in the Netherlands for another Grand Prix.
So far, he’s respected my need for distance and moved back into his apartment downstairs.
“Yes,” I answer, laying my head on her shoulder for a moment. “This is one of my final appointments before the baby comes.” I wrap my arms around my belly.
“I don’t know what to do,” I almost whisper. My heart feels as if it’s shredding into pieces.
“Alyssia, you have to talk to him.”
“We talk all of the time,” I say. “About what time my doctor’s appointments are. He texted the other day about two pieces of furniture that were being delivered for the baby’s nursery. All types of stuff we talk about,” I add, lamely.
Kandace sighs. “That’s not talking and you know it. Have you talked to anyone about what you’re feeling? Because it certainly hasn’t been me. Or have you chosen to resort to withdrawing in on yourself and dealing with everything on your own again?”
I sigh.
“Have you ever told him that you’re in love with him?”
“He knows,” I say.
“But have you told him?”
“What difference does it make? Especially now?”
“Talking to the man you love about how you feel would make it easier for—”
“For what? For him to lie and withhold the truth from me or die in an accident?”
I shake my head. “I can’t be with him,” I say, impatience lacing my tone. “How can I be with him, Kandace? Tell me? When he’s not truthful with me? He knows every time he puts on a racing suit my heart jumps into my damn throat and he still lied to me by taking me to that damn museum?
“How can I be with someone like that?”
There’s a long pause before she answers. “It sucks. I know,” she confirms. “But what if he was trying to protect you?”
I frown.
She pushes out a breath. “When Brian and I were dating, he lied to me about something.”
“About what?”
She hesitates. “His depression. He was diagnosed before we met and in therapy and treatment, but when I opened up to him about my sister, he thought telling me would cause a burden I didn’t need. So, he tried to keep it from me. Eventually, the truth came out.”
“As it always does,” I say around a sigh.
“We became stronger as a couple from it. He learned he can lean on me and that he doesn’t need to always be my rock. Sometimes I can be his because we’re a team.”
The words ‘a team’ ricochet through me. My dad often referred to our family as that, a team or a unit.
A knock on the door stops my train of thought.
“I’ll get it,” Kandace calls out.
It’s Mrs. Townsend, ready to head out to my appointment with Dr. Dupas.
A pang of guilt hits my chest as I eye Mrs. Townsend while we make the ten-minute walk. She’s been so great. Never once making me feel like a burden or impatient with me for hurting her son. Because I know the distance between us is hurting him.
“How do you not hate me?” I ask her the moment Kandace steps out of the waiting room to use the bathroom.
She frowns, cocking her head to the side. “The thought never crossed my mind.”
There’s an honesty in her voice that I can’t deny. Besides, Mrs. Townsend doesn’t come across as the type that would be nice just to spare my feelings.
“I don’t know, if someone kicked my son out of his own home, I might be a little bitter,” I say, honestly.
I run my hands over my belly just thinking about someone hurting my baby.
Mrs. Townsend chuckles. “That’s your home,” she counters. “Travis knows that and respects and loves you enough to give you the space you need. Plus, he knows he’s wrong for not disclosing the whole truth to you.”
She tosses the magazine she’d been reading back onto the glass coffee table.
“It wasn’t the nicest way to break up,” I admit. “You should be livid with me.”
I realize my words don’t make much sense. I think a part of me would feel relieved if she were even a little angry with me.
“Did Travis ever tell you that I was married before I met his father?” she asks.
I lift my head to look at her. I clear my throat.
“I’ve listened to some of your old podcasts,” I admit. “It really helped me a lot in organizing my finances.”
She smiles. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear so many women are still being helped from those podcasts.” She turns toward me, holding out her hands. “May I?”
I nod, allowing her to take my hands into hers.
“I would never be upset at you or anyone else who’s lost what you have and is terrified of giving your heart to someone else. Love is a beautiful gift, but man, it makes us open and vulnerable to so much hurt.
“Travis’ father had to convince me to take a chance on him.”
“What made you?”
She snorts. “The man is relentless. I didn’t trust athletes, and he was at the top of his athletic career. But his actions spoke louder than any words could have. He was protective, attentive, and a major pain in my ass.”
I actually laugh.
“No, seriously. He showed me in small and big ways that he would protect my heart.”
“And he has?” I ask, knowing but still needing to hear the answer.
“Every day since the day he slid this ring on my left finger.” She holds up her hand with the sparkling wedding band.
My chest tightens, my mind filling with all of the ways Travis has protected me over the past months. Somewhere along the line, he’s become the place where I feel the safest.
Yet, now my heart hurts every time I think of him, how he could withhold information from me.
“You don’t have to think about forgiving him now, or honestly, ever,” assures Mrs. Townsend, surprising me.
“He hurt you by not giving you the full truth. Take your time. If he’s the person I believe I raised, he’ll be standing there, ready to make whatever amends he needs to, to win you back, if you want to go back. ”
Her words fill my heart in a way that I didn’t know I needed. Without thinking, I lean in and pull her into a hug.
I hear her shocked gasp and think I’ve maybe gone too far. But when I start to pull back, she hugs me tighter, comforting me in a way only a mother knows how. My heart aches, longing for my own mother but appreciating Mrs. Townsend.
The second we separate, my phone buzzes from a text message
Travis: I’m so sorry I lied to you and I’ll spend a lifetime making it up to you.
Today I’m grateful for:
A love for you that I didn’t know was possible.
The little hitch in your laugh when you’re watching something hilarious.
The way your entire body glows whenever you wear the color yellow.
All of the nights we spent together in bed talking for hours.
Our healthy baby who’s growing bigger every day and will be here soon.
I burst into tears.