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My mouth drops open as I read between the lines. I’m no longer welcome here. I’m Drew’s problem now.
He smiles at me, and maybe it’s just me, but I swear there’s some sort of satisfaction in the gaze that has nothing to do with love.
Has this always just been some weird power trip with him? Or like, being with me is the ultimate get as far as virtue signaling—look at him, everyone. What a good man he is—he even loves a disabled girl. That sense I got occasionally when we were together, that he cared more about how we looked together than who I was as a person… Yeah that’s coming back in big vibes right now.
“Come on, honey,” he says, standing. “It’s time to go home. Now where are your arm crutches? Your walker?”
“Yes, yes,” Mom says, also standing as if to usher me more quickly toward the door. “You two love birds should be off having time to reconnect without a third wheel around. Oh I’m so happy!” She claps in delight. “You two will have such beautiful babies, I can’t wait.”
I rise because I’ll scream if I stay here another second.
What will my mother say when she finally sees the grandbaby that’s already planted inside me? I choke on a half-hysterical laugh. Because this baby will likely have some assortment of wings, fangs, and claws.
But I do enjoy the surprise on Drew’s face when I stand and come almost eye to eye with him. Hmm, he really is shorter than most men, isn’t he? He was just always taller than me because of how slouched and bent my back was.
So I smile right at him when I say, “I don’t need the crutches anymore. Or the walker.”
He frowns but nods, gesturing toward the door. But before I can take the lead, he quickly walks ahead of me. He walks at a quick clip, too, seeming a little disconcerted when he glances over his shoulder only to find me easily keeping up.
The car ride home is quiet. “Everyone at work will be so excited to see you,” he says.
I nod, offering nothing back. I can’t help but feel like I have always been a burden to my mother that she has once again found a way to rid herself of. And that’s… not a great feeling.
I clutch my stomach and promise the little being in there to do so much better. I promise if nothing else, I’ll love you extravagantly. I swear it. No matter if you’re easy or difficult to deal with, I’ll love you for everything you’re worth.
I turn my face toward the window and tears fall.
Drew turns on his favorite talk radio show and ignores me the rest of the drive to his apartment in the city.
Chapter Fifty
HANNAH
“Do you need any help getting ready—”
Drew’s question cuts off when he comes into the bedroom only to find me stepping out of the guest bedroom, already dressed.
He pauses, his gaze flicking up and down. “You look beautiful.” But his voice is flat as he says it, and he turns around almost as quickly as he enters the room.
This is how it’s been between us all week since my mother unceremoniously foisted me back upon him. I was able to get my job back, and I try to spend as little time in the apartment as possible. He was startled that first night when I informed him I’d be sleeping in the guest bedroom, but he didn’t argue.
He doesn’t say much of anything but seemed slightly enthusiastic yesterday when he came home and said some people from his division at work are having a dinner tonight he hoped I’ll attend.
I feel nothing as I look at him, so handsome in a tailored black suit. Different, I think, from the tailored brown suit he wore to work. But I’m not sure.
My chest aches, looking at him, because all I’ve been able to think about all day has been Abaddon. How is he? Is Thing okay? Every time I close my eyes, the fight replays like this terrible, vicious loop behind my eyelids. Do they fight like that often?
And then, a thought slides in that I have absolutely no idea what to do with: does Abaddon miss me?
I rise, wearing low high heels for the first time in my adult life, and grab my purse from the floor. “Shall we go?” I can’t quite manage to smile at Drew, and he doesn’t look my way as he nods.
“We don’t want to be late.”
I let out a depressed sigh as I follow him.
The last thing I want to do is go be paraded out in front of his work friends around whom it always feels like we’re playing a game of Who Deserves the Next Raise—with rules I’ve never been able to follow or understand. I just wanna curl up in bed, wrap my arms around my stomach, and cry for the lover and the strange future I’ve lost.
