CHAPTER THIRTY
CAYLEE
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My bad, I shouldn’t have said anything. Tonight is our girly monthly book club catch up.
Except, there are no books.
Although Trina just recommended a spicy romance, she recently read...but yeah, no books.
And no men.
Just wine, or juice for those pregnant or breastfeeding. An ever-increasing scenario. Not me though, I’m still single (technically) with no wedding ring or baby bump in my future.
I’m being realistic.
After Jake told me we needed to take it slow and made me feel like some desperado seeking a sperm donor, I haven’t felt the same.
Maybe he’s not the right man for me.
“Hey, you okay?” Briar asks, and because I’m two wines in and feeling confused as hell, I start blabbing.
“No,” I sigh, twisting the stem of my glass. “This thing with Jake. I don’t know. I think I’m wasting my time.”
“How serious are you two?” Trina asks.
How do I answer that?
I like Jake. I could see him being the man I marry...if he opened up and was honest with me.
Which he hasn’t.
Last weekend, we went for a walk through the park and he surprised all of us by catching a little boy who was about to fall off his tricycle.
To be fair, we were close, and his parents were distracted by his screaming sister, but it created a swarm of butterflies in my tummy when he swooped the young boy up, then handed him to his father.
I almost swooned.
This oversized, bulky man with rolled-up sleeves, a baseball cap and a smirk, rescuing a little boy.
How could I not be falling in love with him?
“Jeez, thanks, man.” The father held out his hand.
“US Marshal. Former.” Jake grinned. “Taking care of American citizens, big and small.”
Be still, my heart.
Then he ruffled the boy’s hair, and I swear my ovaries started doing the Tango.
Ugh.
Which just makes all of this so much harder. He would be such a great dad. It’s clear I’m not the woman who’s going to make him change whatever is going on for him.
I’ve seen men fall over backwards when they meet the right woman.
That’s not happening here.
The only thing happening is my falling deeper and deeper. While Jake...wants to slow things down.
That hurt so much.
“Serious?” I reply, noticing all the girls were now listening. “Jake is amazing. Gorgeous. Knows his way around my body, if you know what I mean.”
A round of oh yeahs sounded.
“But?” Cassy asks, tucking some hair over her ear.
“He’s too hot. You can’t love a man that sexy.” Trina nods.
What?
Everyone stares at her like she just announced she was in the Taliban.
“What the hell! You just got back from your honeymoon.” Scarlett snorts. “Do we need to tell Marshall you gave him a three star?”
Briar and Cassy start laughing.
“No, I’m just saying, Jake is an exceptionally handsome guy. I love Marshall. Fuck’s sake, Scarlett, stop typing on your phone.”
“Taking notes.”
“Well, don’t.” Trina rips the phone out of Scar’s hand, glaring at the screen. “Stupid grocery list.”
Scarlett winks at me.
God, she’s trouble. Which is why I love her to death.
Savannah walks in the door, heavily pregnant, with her bodyguard hovering nearby. That silences us. They claim not to listen, but given they work for BHS, there’s a one hundred percent chance they’d repeat our girl talk. Especially if it’s about the guys.
Which, let’s face it, it almost always is.
“What did I miss?” Savannah asks.
“New book. I’ll send you the link,” Trina says.
“And...” Savannah knows we’re concerned about a leak, so she frowns, turns and waves her guard further away.
He shakes his head.
“Ugh.” Savannah flops back in her seat.
I lean across the table and whisper. “Trina thinks Jake is hotter than Marshall. Scarlett is writing a grocery list. You’re now caught up.”
The confusion on her face lasts about ten seconds. “Okay. So...weird thing to say about your husband. But no judgment.”
“I never said he was more handsome than Marshall.”
“I mean, you did.” Briar shrugs.
Yeah, she did.
“I was trying to be nice. To give Caylee an out. Instead, my kindness bit me in the ass.” Trina sighs.
No one is buying that.
But we also know she’s madly in love with her husband.
“Fine, my real opinion is he’s a hot jerk. If Jake isn’t cheating, then he’s clearly one of those forever bachelors.”
The kind who never commits or settles down.
Trina read my mind. It’s been my fear all along.
Sure, we aren’t just having sex anymore.
He takes me on dates, he came to my party and invited friends, but he won’t introduce me to his family and the topic of them seems to be locked down tighter than Fort Knox.
Cassy nods, agreeing with Trina.
Briar shrugs again but then nods.
I glance at Scarlett, waiting for her response, but that damn poker face of hers is rock solid.
“Scar,” I press.
“Babe, it’s your life. Give him an ultimatum or wait a year to see if he changes. This is your relationship. We can’t tell you what to do.”
“I’d dump him,” Trina adds.
“I’m thirty in a few months.” I sit back in a slump. “You’ll all be on your second child by the time I meet someone.”
“Hello,” Cassy waves.
“I did that already.” Briar giggles, referring to her twins. “Saved myself nine months, I guess. Do not recommend.”
We all know she adores her twins, but the shock was substantial when both she and Aidan, after finding one another again, discovered they had two babies on the way.
“My point is, I haven’t even met the one.”
I think.
“Or you have, and Jake just needs a kick up the ass.” Trina shrugs. Scarlett lifts a marshmallow off the saucer of her hot chocolate and drops it into Trina’s wine. “Hey!”
I tune out and sip my wine.
I need to decide.
With this many red flags, I don’t want to be thirty-two and look back with regret and be told my eggs are dried up.
It’s a shame he can’t trust me. If his mom, assuming he’s telling the truth, needs help, I’d love to see what I can do for her.
But he’s not even giving me a chance.
The one thing that has kept me going is watching his commitment every time the phone rings. What a good son he is.
Or I’m a fool.
I deserve to know the truth.
But I don’t feel like I have a right to ask him. He made me feel stupid for even asking to meet them. Let’s slow down.
It really feels like Jake is having his cake and eating it too.
Trina is right.
I’ve known all along it likely wouldn’t work. I was hoping I was wrong.
Tomorrow is Friday, always a busy day in the clinic, so on the weekend I’ll tell him we need to part ways.
It’s over.
––––––––
I OPEN THE door for Trinity and smile as she takes one last look in the mirror, grinning. I see this regularly, but there’s nothing like watching a patient walk out of here for the last time—sort of, there are follow-ups—with their perfect smile.
It changes lives.
As it changed mine when I was a teenager.
I do love my job.
“I can’t wait to show Brittany,” Trinity says, grabbing her bags and chatting away as we walk down the hall. “She got hers off ages ago. So unfair.”
When I open the door to the waiting room, her dad has gone. He said he’d be waiting for her, but in the past he’s shown his work is his priority, taking calls and disappearing.
“Amy, where—?”
“Mr. Whitebrook paid up and then got a call. He said he would be back soon,” Amy replies, twisting back and forth on her office chair.
Which means he won’t be.
Trinity rolls her eyes. “It’s fine. Dad’s always on his phone. I’ll find him.”
God, no.
After what happened with Louisa, I’m not letting her leave this office alone.
“Wait here a minute,” I tell her after glancing out into the hall and not seeing him. “I’ll go with you.”
“Honestly, it’s fine.” Trinity says, hating the fuss as teenagers do.
“Don’t let her leave,” I tell Amy, and dart out to get my phone. I’m back in less than a minute, then lead her out the door. “Let’s find your dad, Trinity.”
I pop my head into the stairwell and can’t see or hear him, so we wait in the hallway for a few minutes by the elevators when we see one heading to our floor.
It’s not him.
I punch the button, and we catch the next one.
“He’s probably downstairs. He hates people listening to his conversations. How can insurance be so secretive?”
I have a few thoughts on that matter but keep them to myself.
“Privacy, no doubt.”
“Oh yeah,” Trinity checks her smile in the glass and then blushes when she realizes I’ve seen her.
“They look good.”
“It felt like forever. I was so over them.”
“We hear that a lot.” I laugh.
I quickly glance at my phone and slip it into my back pocket, tugging my lab coat down over it.
“I honestly don’t mind waiting for him in the lobby downstairs if you have to go.”
“I need the fresh air. This gets me out of the office.” I wink. “You’ll understand one day when you have a job.”
“Oh, god no. I’m going to be a landscaper so I can work outside,” she announces.
The elevator stops, and we step out as Trinity shares more about her love of gardening. I make all the right noises as I seek out her father.
Where the fuck is he?
Doesn’t he know about the girls who have gone missing? Louisa was taken only a few weeks ago.
Jesus, I’d be glued to my child if it were me. That is, if I ever get the opportunity to be a mom.
I picture the discussion I’ll be having with Jake this weekend and feel the heaviness in the pit of my stomach. I think we both know.
Last night we were both quiet, and our lovemaking was almost poignant.
Not a word I would have used before.
It was like we were saying goodbye.
I should have said something, but when he slid inside me, those beautiful eyes of his locking on mine, my heart clenched, and I just clung to his arms and let myself feel everything that could have been.
That never will be.
And then I let him wrap his arms around me and laid awake until the early hours. As if enjoying the last hours.
Christmas isn’t far away. The new year can be a fresh start.
I don’t want a fresh start. I want Jake.
Trinity and I step out into the sunlight, and I wish I’d brought my sunglasses. Both of us wander along the street, glancing around.
“There he is!” Trinity exclaims, pointing across the road. “Dad!”
Clearly he’s a walker-talker, as he’s gone a long way down the street.
I wave out to get his attention, trying to remember her surname to call over to him, when suddenly our view is blocked by a wide van.
Ugh. Annoying.
It pulls up abruptly beside us.
The sounds of the van door scraping open, boots slamming to the ground and Trinity gasping happen all at once while my brain is still trying to see across the road.
It’s confusing.
It’s disorientating. Especially when three huge black-clad figures surround us. We both scream as our bodies are picked up and tossed into the vehicle.
Oh, my god!
This can’t be happening.
No. No!
Then I feel the pinch of a needle.