29. Wendy
This couldn’t be happening, but it was happening. I sat on the cold floor, staring in disbelief at the white stick with two red lines in my trembling hand. How was this even happening? Maybe I had gotten sloppy with my birth control a few times leading up to Vincent’s second departure, but I didn’t think this would happen. After being on a contraceptive for years, I thoroughly believed it would take months for my body to remember what it was built to do naturally.
Well, I was fucking wrong.
I hadn’t spoken to Vincent despite his incessant calls and messages. During his absence, even I had to admit it wasn’t the same as the last time he disappeared, but it wasn’t about that. It was about this fear he couldn’t shake to allow him to let us flourish as a team. Was this going to be a representation for the rest of our lives? I refused to wait around for him to see this realization. Now I had something even bigger to worry about: a baby.
I must have been lost in my blaring thoughts when the doorknob jiggled twice, and the door swung ajar, revealing Marissa’s head, whose eyes shot down to the positive test in my hand.
“Shit, Wendy,” Marissa muttered, her eyes wide as dinner plates. She closed the door behind her and entered the cramped bathroom, slowly sinking onto the cool tile floor beside me. Her hand reached out, hovering over mine that still clutched the positive test. “Are you going to tell Vincent?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
I nodded, my free hand scrubbing at my face. It felt like I hadn’t slept in weeks. In fact, I probably hadn't. “Of course,” I said quietly, not wanting to further confront my reality. “I haven’t spoken to him since I left weeks ago. What a great way to start talking again.”
Marissa nodded as though she expected that answer. She inhaled before looking at me, her dark eyes full of concern. “What can I do? You know I’m here for you and support your decision about the baby. Even if you decide not to keep it…” Marissa trailed off as my head shot up.
“I’m keeping the baby. It’s not even a question.” I straightened my posture. “I’m forty-two. Despite the wacky circumstances, this could be my one chance at having a child. I know what I want to do.”
Marissa nodded, offering me a weak smile as she reached to wrap an arm around my shoulders. “Then we'll deal with this. Together.”
I broke down into sobs, burying my face in her shoulder. Marissa didn't say anything else. Her presence was a wordless comfort I needed desperately.
“Are you scared?” she asked quietly.
I kept my face hidden in my hands longer before looking up at her. My eyes bored into hers, raw with vulnerability. “Terrified,” I admitted. But not for the reasons she might think.
This baby wasn’t just a result of a careless night or contraceptive failure. It was a product of love, fierce and consuming. The love I had for Vincent was as undeniable as it was terrifying. It had survived years of separation, heartbreak, and disappointment. Despite everything he had put me through—despite everything we had put each other through—I still loved him.
But loving him meant facing his demons, his past that always crept its way back to him. Did I have the strength to bear it? Could I stand strong not only for myself but also for this unborn child? The thought made me shiver despite the stifling warmth of the room.
Marissa squeezed my hand, jolting me back from my thoughts. She was still there beside me—steady, unwavering Marissa—her presence grounding me like an anchor in rough seas.
“I’m here for you, Wendy. And we’ll figure this out. You’re not alone, okay?”
I nodded, my throat too tight to form words. I wasn’t alone. But soon, I would have to face Vincent. How was he going to react when he found out? Would he run? Or would this give him a reason to finally stay? Did I want this baby to serve as a reason for him to stay? Vincent should just want to stay.
Of course, to complicate and confuse everyone, there hadn’t been any threats or obvious ones I knew about. So, I had no idea what happened and when Vincent planned to return. “You really are the best, you know that, right?” I lifted my gaze to meet Marissa’s warm orbs, casting an eternal glow of sincerity, enough to bathe me for life.
She gave a soft smile, her eyes sympathetic. “I'm just doing what any best friend would do.”
I closed my eyes, tears falling silently down my cheeks. The image of Vincent's face flashed in my mind. I could hear his deep voice vibrating in my ear and feel his rough fingers tracing gentle patterns on the small of my back. I longed for him, yearned for his touch, his presence. But the harsh reality was that he was gone, and there was no telling when or if we’d ever be together again.
“I hate to spring this on you now, but Stephen is eating at the counter. He kind of seems down.” Marissa scrunched her nose.
“Is he alone?” I fought to keep my voice steady.
Marissa nodded. “He's been nursing the same cup of coffee for the past hour. Hasn't said much.”
“Oh wow. I didn’t realize I was back here for that long.” I sat up, smoothing my hair.
“It’s okay.” Marissa shrugged. “Everything is under control, I just needed to tell you about Stephen. He kind of looks like he wants to talk to you.”
I raised a questioning eyebrow. Why me?
“About what?” I questioned, trying to suppress the unease rising within me. Stephen and I hadn't interacted much since Vincent nabbed his poker table. When we did, it was laced with tension and disapproval.
“I don't know.” Marissa’s hands twisted into the hem of her apron. “But he seems sad. Not the usual happy, perky Stephen, we know.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I didn't need this, not now when things were already spiraling out of control. But a part of me felt like I owed it to Stephen to at least hear him out. He was, after all, my first friend here in Newport when I had originally arrived here a broken woman.
“Alright, give me a minute.” I stood, brushed off my skirt, and adjusted my top, suddenly self-conscious. Why was I nervous? It was just Stephen.
Marissa offered an encouraging smile, patting my arm. “Just breathe.” And then she disappeared to tend to the waiting customers.
Steadying myself, I made my way toward the counter where Stephen sat hunched over his lukewarm coffee, his shoulders slumped in a way that suggested defeat. Seeing him like this filled me with a strange sense of dread.
I cleared my throat, announcing my presence.
“Stephen.” I smiled, taking a hesitant step closer.
He peered up at me, his face momentarily holding a flash of surprise before it smoothed out into a familiar smile. The sadness Marissa had mentioned was there, lurking in the depths of his eyes.
“Wendy.” His voice was low and subdued, unlike the cheerful and boisterous Stephen he usually was.
I frowned, pulling up a stool to sit beside him. “Are you okay?” It felt like we were on a precipice—one wrong word and everything would collapse.
He shrugged. “Just one of those days.” Except, there was more than a bad day etched on his face.
“Talk to me.” I shifted closer. Despite everything, I found myself willing to listen to Stephen's problems.
He was quiet for a long time before finally making a decision. Stephen’s words came out in a rush, as if he'd held them back for too long. “What am I doing wrong? I try to be a gentleman. I pick the nice restaurants. Pay for the bill. Walk her home one night, drive her home the next. We were doing great.”
“Woah. Back up.” I signaled with my hands. “Who are you talking about?”
“I started to date this really nice girl,” Stephen blurted.
“Does she have a name?” I bit my lip, fighting a grin.
“It doesn’t matter now. I've been completely ghosted after four fun and really nice dates.” Stephen slashed his fingers against his neck. “Like, why would she do that? And before she decided to ignore me, she was texting me nonstop. I mean, I liked it. I loved speaking to her. But seriously? Where did it come from?”
“For her to turn from hot to cold on you so quickly, she just sounds immature to me.” I shrugged.
Stephen sighed, his head dropping into his hands. “You think? I mean, I thought we had something good going on.”
“Maybe you did.” I patted his arm. “But it's her loss. If she can't see what an amazing person you are, she's not worth your time.”
Stephen dropped his head, shaking it. “It’s just unfair. I’m sick of being alone.” He lifted his gaze to meet mine. “Do you ever feel that way?”
I blinked, taken aback by his question. My heart pounded as I thought of Vincent, our love whose conclusion remained unknown. Did I ever feel alone? All the time.
“I guess...we all feel that way sometimes.” My eyes dropped to my hands. “It's a part of life.”
Stephen listened, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he stared at his coffee cup. “You're right.” He nodded. “It's just tough sometimes, you know?”
And I did know. And though my heart ached for him because, in a different universe, we could've been kindred spirits finding solace in each other's company, it was not meant to be. Not when my heart belonged to another.
“Just remember this. That girl? She sounds fucking stupid. Her loss. Your gain to know now rather than waste your time.”
Stephen sputtered out a laugh. “Thanks, Wendy.” He massaged his temple. “You’re right.”
“I know I’m right.” I nudged his shoulder with mine, and we shared a warm smile. “I think I’m going to call it an early day.”
“Yeah? Everything okay?” Stephen raised an eyebrow.
“Everything’s fine. I’m just tired, you know?” I locked eyes with Stephen, hoping he’d understand.
“Of course.” Stephen downed the remainder of his coffee. “Want some company? It’s a nice day out. We could take a walk?”
If it were any other day, I’d probably say no, but something about Stephen’s warmth and the kindness swimming in his deep eyes poked my mind to say yes. “That sounds great. Give me five minutes, okay?”
“You got it. I’ll be here.” Stephen spread his long arms out, emphasizing his point.
Stephen's eyes followed me as I sauntered across the cafe and disappeared into the back to gather my belongings. I said a quick goodbye to Marissa without her questioning my decision before returning to Stephen.
He was now looking out the front window near the restaurant’s entrance, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of afternoon light. “Ready?” he asked as I approached.
“Yeah,” I replied, mustering up a half-hearted smile. We walked side by side, our steps synchronized in a comfortable rhythm.
We strolled along the narrow streets of our quaint little town, exchanging small talk about the weather and our favorite places to frequent lately. Anything to keep the noise at bay.
“Can I ask you a question?” Stephen walked half a step ahead.
“Sure.” I kept my eyes glued to the uneven pavement under my feet.
“Are you and Vincent still together?” He slowed his pace, knowing the question brought me to a halt.
“No. I mean, maybe.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
Stephen remained silent, his eyes locked on mine as if he were searching for something—understanding, empathy, or maybe more. His hand landed on my shoulder, a comforting gesture that felt surprisingly natural.
“I'm sorry,” he said softly. “I didn't mean to pry.”
“It's okay,” I looked away from his empathetic gaze and focused on a small pebble by my foot instead. “It’s just…difficult. Everything with him was always difficult the more I think about it.”
Stephen nodded his understanding without pressing any further. We continued our walk in silence, the only sound being our synchronized footsteps on the cobblestone streets and the distant hum of early traffic. I guess I hadn’t been paying attention and following Stephen almost blindly as he steered us to an unknown excursion. When I finally paid attention, my eyes met brick walls on either side of us, and that was when I realized we were in an alleyway.
“Stephen,” I began, my voice wavering slightly with unease. “Where are we?”
“Just a shortcut,” he reassured me, his hand still on my shoulder. “Oh, before I forget. I’ve wanted to give you these, but you know how time can get away from you.” Stephen reached into his jacket, pulling out an oversized white envelope, holding it out for me.
“What’s this?” I took the envelope with a shaky hand, my pulse going into overdrive.
“Open it. You’ll see.” Stephen popped his shoulders, hands clasped behind his back.
I peeled back the top flap and pulled out a thin stack of photographs I hoped to never see again. They were the black and white photos Vincent had shown me the night he came clean about everything.
My blood ran cold. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I sifted through each picture: Vincent fucking that woman, solo candid images of me doing various things, another of Vincent and me, and finally, one of Vincent alone with red letters spelling LIAR across his face.
“Why?” I forced the single word out.
Stephen flashed a sick smile. His arm flung around from his back, swinging in my direction. I flinched, and a sting shot through my neck. I hadn’t a clue what was happening or what hit me, but soon, the world started to fade.
“Wha... Stephen?” My words slurred as my vision became blurry. I felt myself swaying, and in a final desperate attempt to fight the oncoming darkness, I reached for Stephen.
But he was no longer there. Or maybe he had never been with me at all. Heavy as lead, my legs crumbled beneath me as I fell onto the cold cobblestone.
As my consciousness slipped away, I saw a figure standing over me, a figure bearing an uncanny resemblance to Stephen. But his face was twisted into a cruel grin that was nothing like the warmth I was used to seeing from him.
“Goodnight, Wendy.” His laughter echoed in my ears as everything went black.