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“Hazey, I was so wrong to take it out on you. It’s just, I was feeling all these crazy emotions at the time, and I needed to express them, and then you were there with that super sexy guy and I couldn’t deal with it.” She shuffled her feet.
“I wasn’t there with him. It just happened.”
“Jacob made me choose between the two of you, and he apologized for that,” Carly said, and swallowed. “Which brings me to my next point.”
“What point?” I massaged my stomach but it did nothing to quell the nausea brewing there. This was surreal. I hadn’t expected an apology or even contact from Carly and I had way more important stuff to deal with today than this.
“I – are you okay?”
“Fine,” I said. “Just a little sick.”
She dismissed that with a wave. “Right, so there’s something you need to know. Jacob’s sorry, too. He’s really sorry. And so am I. I’m so sorry, and I’m sorry for the next part, too, because you have to know that Jacob and I are an item and we have been for a really long time, for months before you two broke up and oh, god, I think I’m going to pass out. I’m so so so sorry.” She swayed and stumbled.
The shock hadn’t even had a chance to settle in. I scooched off the edge of the bed and rushed to her side, then guided her to the sofa beside my desk, right under the shelf groaning with a collection of all my favorite fantasy novels.
I’d have to replace them with copies of What to Expect When You’re Expecting or How to Know Whether You’re Crazy or It’s the Hormones.
“Breathe,” I said and patted her on the back. “You’re fine.”
“Are you kidding?” she asked, between gasps. “I betrayed you. I slept with your boyfriend before you broke up with him.”
Carly, beautiful blonde, busty Carly, had taken Jacob from me. Had she really?
I’d always been more into the relationship with him than he’d been with me. And it certainly hadn’t helped that I’d been super insecure about myself the entire time.
The fact that he’d moved on with her, and that I had something so much bigger than a relationship to deal with helped. The anxiety slid from my shoulders, at least, when it came to this.
What did it matter in the grand scheme of things?
Carly grasped my hand, still suctioning in breaths like a vacuum cleaner low on juice. “I love him. That’s why I broke up with Pete. I love Jacob. I was so confused about everything before the wedding. I was doing it because my parents expected me to marry Pete, and I love Jacob. I really do. I would never have done this to you if I didn’t. I swear. I’m sorry. I’m –”
“Stop,” I said. “Carly, stop. It’s okay.” She could have Jacob. I prayed that he wouldn’t cheat on her as he’d done to me. “I forgive you, not that there’s anything to forgive.”
Her brow wrinkled, and she licked her lips, swallowed once – an audible gulp. “Okay, how are you so calm about this, right now? You’re like, super relaxed. I thought you’d be angry at me.”
“I’ve got bigger issues to deal with, right now,” I said, with a small, tight smile.
“What?”
I laughed. “I’m pregnant.”
Carly flumped back on the sofa and wailed, “Oh god, you’re pregnant with his child. I knew something like this would happen. Jacob’s going to freak.”
“What? No,” I snapped – please, god, let me never have been this pathetic. “Jacob’s not the father.”
“What? Then who is?” Carly’s frown smoothed out as if an invisible iron had been run over her skin. “Oh. My. God.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Fuck me, right?”
Chapter 8
Bain
“What do you want?” I asked and shifted the papers on my desk to one side. A collection of documents, really, signed lease agreements from folks who’d decided to rent out villas at one of my resorts for longer periods.
I removed my reading glasses – fuck, thirty and I needed a pair, god damn my dad’s shit eye genes – and pinched the bridge of my nose.
My brother sat on the side of the rosewood desk in my office, lazing in the leather chair like I couldn’t kick him the fuck out of here at a moment’s notice.
“Well?” I asked and dropped my hand. “I’m busy.”
“I haven’t seen you in a couple months,” he said. “Thought I’d pay you a visit.”
A couple months? No. Three months and two days, exactly, since the moment Hazel had stormed out of her hotel room. I’d ticked off every day mentally, much to my chagrin.
Since when had I cared about a one-night stand? A fling? Since, now, apparently.
Since I’d met a woman who was vulnerable, and sweet, and smelled of cherry blossom, and radiated good will.
