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“I don’t believe you,” I argue and I have no idea why his words are making me panic, but they are.
“Can’t help that, babe. It’s true,” he says and when I look up at him, he’s grinning. I’m thinking that grin means bad things for me. “What’s this?” he asks and I hadn’t realized we were at the door already. He picks up a large white box. There’s a giant red bow on it.
“I don’t know,” I answer. “Maybe Hope sent me something, or perhaps Charity got my letter about the baby and sent something.”
“It has your name on it, but nothing else.” He flicks the gift tag on top of the box.
“Bring it inside and I’ll open it there. I know I’m not that far along but I swear I have to pee again.”
“The romance has really left our relationship, hasn’t it?” Titan jokes as I unlock the door.
“I don’t think we have a relationship, remember? Divorced?”
“Annulled… and we’re about to be parents together, so…”
“Please don’t finish that sentence. I’m not sure I can handle much more today,” I laugh, only half kidding.
He places the box on the table and I lift the top off and look down inside.
I pull out an old worn Dallas Cowboys football jersey. At first I don’t realize what it is, and then it hits me. It’s Brad’s shirt. My ex-boyfriend, the creep who has been calling and the creep that hit me and knocked me on the ground because I had the nerve to tell him I didn’t want to go to a party with him.
I used to sleep in this shirt every night—back when things were good. They hadn’t been good for a long time. They were bad long before he hit me. Any feelings I had for him were long gone way before he hit me. The hit just gave me the courage to finally leave. I drop the jersey on the table.
“Dallas cowboys?” Titan asks, but I barely hear him.
It feels like blood is rushing through me and I can hear my heart beating in my ears. That’s how much this reminder of my time with Brad bothers me. There are two other things in the box and I reach in and get those. One is a 5x7 picture in a silver frame. It’s a picture of Brad and me one week after we met. It was our first official date. He flew me to Hawaii and had a private dinner served for us on a beach. He pulled out all of the stops. I thought I’d finally found something good in my life… someone who cared about me. We’d been dancing on the water’s edge, barefoot, and I used my phone to take a selfie of us with the ocean and the sunset as our backdrop.
I used to love that picture.
“Faith?” Titan’s voice again, but still I can’t pay it attention.
I look at the folded piece of paper which was inside and open it up, barely noticing my hand is shaking.
Faith,
We were so good together. I miss you, Sunshine. Come home to me. You’ll always be the only woman for me. We’ll start over.
Brad.
I drop the note on the table and run to the bathroom, feeling the bile rise through me just like this morning. I’m going to be sick again and this time the cause is much worse than just the smell of eggs.
forty-three
titan
I should run after Faith, but something upset her and right now, with anger—and jealousy—firing through me, I don’t. I pick up the note she dropped and read it. I read it again and then I wad the bastard up in my hand. Then I take in the picture of a smiling Faith with a man I don’t know, but a man who was holding her close and doing it while smiling—not at the camera, but at her, and I don’t like that at all. Then I look at the faded jersey—obviously a man’s and obviously well worn. I like that and the fact a man sent it to her even less.
I throw it all back in the box, because I don’t want to see it. I actually have to fight the urge to take it out and burn it. I do that barely, though I make a note to do it later if Faith doesn’t have an issue with it.
But that’s the thing that’s bothering me the most.
Is she upset because she has feelings for this… Brad? Or is she upset for a different reason? I finally control enough of my reaction—and I know most of it is unreasonable—to follow her into the master bathroom.
I saw pictures of this place and floor plans before I agreed to my contract. So I know the layout. That said, walking into the master bedroom, it’s all different. In here, Faith has definitely put her stamp on the place. She’s painted the walls a calming gray which you would think would be washed out with her white furniture, but it’s not. It feels peaceful. Of course the yellow curtains and throw pillows on the bed covered in white, along with plush yellow rugs on the floor scream vibrant and happy, like Faith herself—or like the Faith I remember in Vegas…
