Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Ridge
“You bought her a house?” Whitney yells as she aggressively stuffs the remnants of brightly-colored holiday wrapping paper into a garbage bag.
She’s already had a few Bloody Mary’s to ring in Christmas morning, her exaggerated mood amplified from the alcohol.
Her mood is night and day compared to last night.
“Yes. I bought Beverly a house.” I’m standing next to the bedazzled tree with Roman in my arms, the two of us looking on as Whitney continues ramming each piece of paper into the bag. Sylvia is in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
“Why are you mad?”
“Because it matters, Ridge. That’s why.”
“Why does it matter?”
She halts her assault on the paper and stands up straight with her chin in the air, all the festiveness of the morning ruined because she’s tipsy and asked me what I got Beverly for Christmas. Unfortunately, I told her the truth, and it set her off.
“Because now I know what you’ve been planning on all along. You want to take our son and move to Georgia!” She spits the last word out loud, her venomous reply causing Roman to hide his face against my shoulder and cry.
“Now look what you’ve done.” I try to soothe him as Sylvia quietly enters the room and thrusts her arms out to take him. I nod and hand Roman off, knowing he’ll calm down once he’s away from our heated conversation.
As soon as Sylvia exits, I plant my hands on my hips and scowl at Whitney.
We’re in a standoff. “What do you want from me, huh? I have a life of my own. I can buy a house wherever and whenever I want to. Look around, Whitney. I’ve set you up pretty nicely in this home in Beverly Hills, and it’s still not enough for you, is it?
You want more. You always want more. You always want what you can’t have. ”
Whitney lashes back, mimicking my stance with her hands on her hips. We look ridiculous in our matching pajamas. “That’s not fair, Ridge, and you know it.”
“Then why does it matter, huh? Why does it matter that I bought a house for the woman I love?”
A look of pain flashes across her tired face. “Because you’re going to forget about me and take Roman far away.”
I close my eyes and exhale a long breath. “No, I’m not. That’s not how joint custody works.”
“Then how does it work, Ridge? How will it work when it’s your turn to have Roman but you’re on a movie location in another country, huh?
Will you hand our son over to your girlfriend to watch after him?
And what if I have something planned and I need help here in California?
Are you going to hop on a plane and perform your daddy duties at the drop of a hat? ”
I squeeze the back of my neck and shake my head. “I don’t know how this will work. But we’re two grown adults. We’ll figure it out, I guess.”
“You guess?” She walks over to the sofa and collapses on the fabric. “If I would’ve known parenting would be this hard with you, I would’ve never told you I had your son.”
My mouth drops open. “Whitney, you don’t mean that.”
Anger fills her eyes. Or maybe it’s resentment. That’s it. She resents me. She resents what I have with Beverly. She can’t stand seeing me in love with another woman.
I watch her drop her head into her hands, her muffled groans concerning. “I don’t know what I mean anymore.”
I sit beside her and flinch as she grabs onto me, burying her face in my chest. She’s mumbling, her words coming out of nowhere.
“Why can’t you love me, Didge? Why can’t it be me? It was supposed to be me. I knew going into this that you were the kind of man who would do the right thing. I wanted us to get married. Oh, God, we could’ve been the king and queen of Hollywood everyone talks about.”
I don’t speak. I sit there, rigid in my seat, and listen closely to her drunken admission.
“You know I wasn’t really on the pill that night, right?”
My mouth falls open. I couldn’t have heard her correctly. “Say again?”
She pulls back from me and swipes at her tearstained eyes. “I wasn’t on the pill when we slept together.” She gauges my reaction, but I don’t give her one. “I think it’s time for me to be completely honest with you about that night.”
The little hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention as I force myself to breathe. “Honest about what? Roman?”
“Yes.” She sniffles and looks away. “I intentionally slept with you, hoping I’d get pregnant. There. I said it.”
I lick my lips, the implications of her confession causing my blood pressure to rise. Whitney forced fatherhood on me? She made a huge life decision without my consent? She took away something precious to me. Something I will never get back.
I vaguely remember the night of our drunken liaison.
She convinced me she was on the pill, and because of my vulnerable state, I believed her.
And now, sitting on this couch, dangerously close to her, the truth is finally pouring out, like a bottle of booze purposefully turned upside down.
It all makes sense now, and I’m reeling.
“I wanted to get pregnant, but I didn’t really want to have a baby at all.
I just wanted to keep you around for movie opportunities.
You’re a good guy, Didge. Everyone loves you.
You are Hollywood royalty, and I knew if I had your baby, you’d stand by my side and do the right thing.
You might’ve even asked a few of your director friends for a favor for me.
Like an audition for a movie role in one of their films.”
She gives me quick glance as if to see how I’m responding to this news.
I don’t emit any emotions, although my shoulders are knotted with tension, and I can feel my pulse throbbing at my temples.
Still, I remain stoic and quiet, flabbergasted by this revelation.
But I’m even more worried about what this means regarding her relationship to our son.
I clear my throat, careful with my whispered words. “Why are you telling me this now, Whitney?”
She shrugs and reaches for her drink on the side table. “I don’t know. I guess I’m tired of feeling guilty and I needed to get it off my chest.” I watch her throw back the last dregs of vodka and tomato juice. “I’m sorry I ruined your Christmas.”
I cough and turn on my acting skills to buy some time. I need to process what she’s just told me. I need to figure out my next steps.
“You didn’t ruin it. We have some things to figure out. And we will figure them out.” My voice is stern as I look right at her. “Do you trust me, Whitney?”
Her bloodshot eyes are large saucers staring back at me, and her nod is slight.
Can she tell I’m about to come unglued? That I’m definitely going to lawyer up and take her to court to get Roman away from her once and for all?
She admitted she never wanted him anyway.
She only wanted me. Well, she can’t have me.
She’s going to regret her alcohol-infused confession.
“I hope I can trust you after what I just told you,” she says brazenly.
I clear my throat again, aware that what I’m about to say is something Whitney won’t want to hear.
And even though I’m nervous about this conversation I wasn’t planning on instigating, I know that we need to have it.
It’s the perfect diversion from her bold confession.
And besides, I need to, for our son’s sake.
“I don’t want you drinking around Roman anymore. You need help, Whitney.”
She forces a laugh and angrily scoots away from me.
“I know this conversation isn’t easy for you, but you have to know how much this affects all of us, especially Roman.”
“I had some champagne on Christmas Eve and a Bloody Mary this morning.” She holds up her empty glass. “So what.”
“So what?” I repeat. “You take it too far. You get drunk, Whitney. You drink every single day. It affects your decision-making. As the mother of my child, I’m worried about you. Your own mother is worried about you—”
“Leave my mother out of this,” she interrupts in a hiss.
“I’ve been here for less than twenty-four hours, and not once have I seen you feed, change, or even hold your son.
It’s been me and Sylvia since Mira left for her Christmas vacation.
It’s obvious you don’t want the responsibility of a child.
This all makes sense now. You’d rather hold on to that champagne bottle from last night and your cocktail glass this morning than Roman. ”
“Stop it.”
“No. You need to hear this loud and clear, and from someone who only wants what’s best for you and our child. If you don’t get the help you need, you’re going to hurt yourself. And you’ll end up hurting Roman. Is that what you want?”
She’s looking at her hands in her lap, fingers twisting with unease. “Of course not.”
“Good answer.” I stand and offer her a lifeline. “It’s not gonna be easy, but I promise I’ll be there for you every step of the way. Even after what you’ve just told me.”
Her head turns, her muddled eyes finding mine. “You’ll… you’ll be there for me? You’ll stay?”
“Yes.” I lie and reach for her hand. She links her fingers through mine, and I pull her up into a standing position. The last thing I want to do is touch this woman. She’s despicable, and I can’t wait to get away from her. But I need her to trust me.
“Why don’t you go freshen up and get dressed for the day? I’ll clean up the rest of this mess. Sylvia made a breakfast casserole, and it should be ready soon. I’m starving.”
Her eyes scroll my face before a tiny smile emits from her lips. She believes me. “Okay.”
“I’m not gonna say anything about this to anyone else. Not even to Beverly. And I promise I’ll keep it that way if you take the next step and get the help you need.”
“I’ll do anything to get you to stay, Didge.”
I offer her a devastating smile of approval and watch her exit the room. When she’s out of sight, I frown and collapse onto the sofa. The crash from the strong adrenaline rush of her confession has left me exhausted and emotionally drained.
***
“Merry Christmas, Lovely.”
“Merry Christmas, Ridge. How was Roman’s first Christmas morning? Was it everything you wanted it to be?”
Beverly’s smile over FaceTime melts away the stress of the morning in an instant. I’m sequestered in my room and pan my phone across the silly pajamas I’m still wearing, and she laughs. “It was… fun,” I say.
“Fun?” Her brow furrows. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”
My shoulders lift in a deep sigh. “Whitney got a little out of hand.”
“She was drinking again, wasn’t she?”
I nod. I’ve been open and honest with Beverly about everything Whitney-related, coveting her take on how to handle things when they get uncomfortable.
But I’m not ready to tell her what Whitney just told me.
Not yet. I don’t want this holiday to go down in flames.
I need some time to figure this one out.
Instead, I only tell Beverly about the drinking, and she agrees it’d be better for all of us, especially Roman, if Whitney stopped.
“I told her this morning I’d help her get sober,” I admit.
“And what did she say?”
“Well, she didn’t disagree, so that’s positive.”
“One day at a time, Ridge. I’m proud of you for finally saying something. And you need to be there for her. For Roman too.”
I grimace, my heart aching in the moment. There is no other woman as compassionate as Beverly. I want to be with her so badly. And I want it to be in her new house in Heartsboro.
I shift and offer her a dazzling grin. “You haven’t opened your present yet, have you?”
“No!” she exclaims. “You told me not to. I’ve been patiently waiting for you to give me the green light, like you asked. Can I go get it and open it while we’re on the phone together?”
I notice the time and shake my head. “You need to wait until two o’clock. That’s eleven my time.”
Beverly growls, and it’s adorable. “Why do I have to wait?”
“Because there’s one more piece to your present that’s being delivered before two, and believe me, you’re not gonna want to miss it.”
She presses her top teeth into her bottom lip to thwart a smile. “Okay.”
We stare at each other from our phones, and I’m desperate to hold her. Anxious to feel the warmth of her lips against mine. Thank goodness she’ll be in California in a few days. I’m not sure I can make the entire holiday week without her, especially after the bomb Whitney dropped.
“Go get ready and start the countdown with your sister and George. I think they’ll enjoy it just as much as you will.”
Her giggle is music to my ears. “Ridge, I don’t know what you’ve done, but the anticipation has been thrilling. I feel like a little kid again.”
I laugh with joy. “Mission accomplished. And, sweetheart?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll call you later after you’ve opened your present. You’re gonna need some time to soak it all in.”
“Okay. And don’t forget, I’m giving you your gift when I’m in California.”
My eyes drink in her beauty. Cheeks dotted with a subtle pink. Dark eyes full of childlike wonder. Lips glistening in the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights. I sigh with pure pining.
“I can hardly wait.”