Forsaking All Others (From This Day Forward Book 2) (13 page)

The heartbeat is strong and I find a weight is taken off of me. I feel like I can finally relax, knowing that he or she is okay. He gives me a prescription for anti-nausea medication just as I belatedly remember that my doctor gave me one as well at my visit last week. I stuffed it down in my purse, instantly forgetting it. He uses the term hyperemesis gravidarum and urine ketones—all of which mean nothing to me until he breaks it down in layman’s terms. Dr. Westland tells me that if I feel morning sickness to this magnitude again, to come straight to the hospital so they can give me fluids and monitor the baby. He assures me that he’ll send everything over to my doctor for her records before leaving the room to see other patients.

David comes back about thirty minutes later (Man, do they know how to stall) and we sit in comfortable silence together, his hand firmly clasping mine. The IV fluids and medicine do wonders for me. My body gives up its fight and lets me rest peacefully.

 

Watching her rest is such a relief. She smiles in her sleep and I wonder if she’s thinking of me. I’d like to think she is, given all the hell she’s put me through in the last six hours.

I woke up to a full bladder and an empty bed. My first thought was that she took the guest room, the very idea of it pissing me off. I’d wanted to wake up to her in my arms, to have some small feeling of normalcy with her.

I shouldn’t have been drinking last night, not after I’d done well enough without it. I allowed the stress of our situation to cloud my judgment and once again found myself in over my head. I was amazed she could keep up with me though. Normally, Beth kept herself to a two-drink maximum. The funny thing is, she seemed completely sober when we left to go home.

Just as I flushed the toilet, I could hear the sounds of her retching from down the hall. I didn’t think, I just ran to her.

She was a ghostly shade of white even against the porcelain of the toilet. I tried asking her questions, but she could only answer me in moans. I tried wetting her face with a cold washcloth and when that didn’t work, I went with my never-fail hangover cure. I felt that if I could get her to eat a few dry Cheerios and get some electrolytes in her, she’d bounce back.

I was distracted from my worrying when I realized she was in my shirt. I don’t know, but just the thought of it had me ready to puff up my chest and proclaim to the world that she was mine.

I stroked the damp hair back off of her forehead while taking her in. “You’re wearing my shirt?”

She looked up at me and nodded her head.

“My shirt and nothing else?” My heart was pounding and I ached at the thought of being inside of her.

She must’ve picked up on my thought process because she weakly said, “Not the time, David. Not the time.”

I watched her eat the dry cereal and wash it down with some Gatorade. I thought she’d be right as rain soon.

Turns out, I was wrong.

If anything, my cure made her sicker.

She continued to vomit and when she started falling asleep immediately afterward, worry turned into something more.
Alcohol poisoning.
It didn’t make sense though. She’d seemed fine last night. I told myself I was jumping to conclusions—that I just needed to give her more time to recover.

I leaned against the counter and watched her, praying the signs wouldn’t be there. She started shivering violently so I moved over her again, calling her name. She wasn’t as responsive as I would’ve liked and her lips had a blueish tint to them. When she threw up on the rug, I was convinced we needed help.

Trying to dress an unconscious adult was not my idea of a good time, but considering that she did the same for me the night before, I couldn’t complain.

I felt like I ran every red light trying to get Beth the help she needed. She’d tried arguing with me in the driveway, but her words all ran together—yet another sign she was still intoxicated.

Thankfully, the nurses seemed to take her situation seriously as well. The one nurse, Barb, immediately found the doctor so they could get labs ordered. They took her back and ran all the tests, but it wasn’t until just now—watching her sleep that I feel I can exhale.

I grabbed her purse as we ran out the door in case they needed her identification, and I can hear her phone vibrating from across the room. I go and get it, trying not to wake her.

Landon.

It’s like the guy can’t take a hint. He’s called five times in a row. The phone starts vibrating again in my hand and I step out into the hall, closing the door softly behind me.

“Hello?”

“Who’s this?” Even over the phone he sounds condescending.

“Who the fuck do you think it is?” I hiss the words into the phone, earning myself a dirty look from the nurse’s station.

“Why are you answering Elizabeth’s phone? Where is she?”

I walk down the hallway, out of earshot of anyone. “It’s none of your fucking business where she is!” I’ve got a death grip on her cell phone right now.

He laughs, “Geez Davey, calm down! I’m just wondering why she isn’t here right now. She said she’d help with the search party today, but she never showed up. Hence, why I’m wasting my breath talking to you.”

I clench and unclench my jaw, working to keep my voice low.
Davey? Oh, hell no.

“She’s sick and won’t be coming today. That’s all you need to know.”

His tone becomes worried, “Sick? What’s going on?”

I should hang up, but I can’t help myself.
I’m a prick.
“I guess she drank too much when we were at dinner last night. I woke up in our bed alone in the middle of the night—poor thing was sick in the guest bathroom. Don’t worry, Landon. She’s in good hands.”

He protests, “What?—Why were you over there? You’re getting a divorce! She said—”

I cut him off, “Great talking to you, Landon. Good luck finding your
fiancé
.”

I mash the end button.
Fucker.

I’m gonna need a few laps around the floor to calm myself down.

 

 

Beth is starting to wake up when I make it back to the room. She gives me a sleepy smile and my heart turns over in my chest.

“How you feeling, baby?”

She nods, “Good…my mouth is still really dry.” She sounds pretty hoarse. I go and grab her some ice chips after clearing it with one of the nurses.

I spoon a few into her mouth, getting comfortable on the bed in the process.

Beth starts giggling and I give her a puzzled look, “What’s so funny?”

She tries to compose herself, “You—I’m just laughing at the picture we must make. The big, tattooed alpha spoon-feeding ice to his invalid wife.”

I spoon more ice into her mouth and give her a stern look, “My dad would’ve done this for my mom.”

She gives me a sad smile, “Yeah, he would’ve. He loved you and her more than anything else in this world, David.”

I swallow hard at her words. “You.”

She looks over at me, “What?”

I grab her hand, “You. He loved you too, Beth. So damn much.”

She quiets for a moment, continuing to eat the ice chips as I feed them to her.

“Did you love her?”

I freeze, the spoon stopped halfway to her mouth, “Who?”

Her voice comes out barely above a whisper, “Jess—did you love her? Is that why you um went to her?”

Why? Why can’t we just have one moment where the past doesn’t threaten everything?

I realize she thinks I ran to Jess because of her looks and I’ve never understood why she’s never felt that she could measure up next to her. I’ve always thought Beth was sexy as hell, but she never agreed, especially if Jess was in the room. The implications of what I did extend beyond those three encounters. That’s glaringly obvious to me right now.

I slept with the one person she measured herself against. I took those insecurities and validated them by my actions. I’ve hated myself for what I did to her, but this is an entirely new level of self-loathing.

I couldn’t process my dad dying so I fucked her best friend? Why is it, that up until this point, I’ve thought we could move past everything? I am the last person she needs in her life.

What I’m about to tell her makes this worse, because I never felt anything toward Jess. She just happened to be at the right place at the right time—or wrong place at the wrong time, depending on how you look at it. If anything, I hated her. I hated that she would do that to Beth, but more than that I hated that she wasn’t Beth.

“No. I never loved her. She was just there…” I don’t know what else to say to make this better. Her eyes well up and she looks out the window, away from me. I realize I never wanted anything more than to be like my old man—in this moment, I’m the furthest thing from that dream.

 

Luckily, my second hospital stay was short-lived. I immediately filled the prescription for anti-nausea medication and fell into bed upon arriving home. David said he had to take care of some things and left me to rest, but I knew the truth—he was punishing himself. After he admitted that Jess had been nothing more than convenient, the atmosphere in that small room changed.

And not for the better.

I didn’t know whether I was crying tears of relief that he didn’t love her or tears of hurt because he went to my best friend.
Former best friend.

I also didn’t know why I couldn’t just enjoy a moment with my husband? It’s like some part of me refused to let myself be happy, as if I didn’t deserve it. I know he felt the same way too. I saw the way the light in his eyes was extinguished by my question.

He’d just finished telling me how much his dad loved me and I had to go and verbally hit him in the nuts for it. As if he needed reminding that he was not his father.

Why? Why am I so cruel to him?

As I lay there, wondering where David ran off to, I began to think that I must have a victim complex. Either that, or my level of masochism was through the roof. How could tearing my heart open all over again possibly help me heal and forgive?

 

 

It’s not until the following Friday when I realize I never showed up to help Landon. I realize this when I see his name flash across my cell phone screen.

“Hey, Landon—” He cuts me off before I can apologize.

“Elizabeth? Are you okay? I heard you were sick.”

What? How?

“You did? Who told you that?”

“David did. I called you Sunday afternoon and he said you were sick, but that he was taking care of everything. He told me you called off the divorce and that he’d moved back in—I guess it surprised me.”

I try to keep the anger from my voice, “Oh, he told you all that?” I need to change the topic and get back on neutral ground, “How did the search go for Katya? Any leads?”

He sighs, “Not a damn one. We’re going to try to cover more ground tomorrow and Sunday if you want to join us. I could use any and all volunteers.”

“Okay, I’ll go. What time and where?”

He gives me the time and location before we hang up and I sit in silence at my kitchen table. I’m not mad that David told him that. No, what I’m mad about is the fact that I haven’t seen or heard from the man since he dropped me off Sunday.

He tells Landon we’re together, all but pissing on my leg it sounds like, but won’t tell me. If he would’ve asked to move in, I would’ve said yes. As crazy as it sounds with an impending divorce on the table. I want him to prove me wrong. I want him to show me that we can work through this, but if he’s going to pull a disappearing act every time something happens, there’s no way.

I think back over the conversation we had in the hospital and cringe.

My words.

I’ve been pushing him away for the last few weeks. So, why am I surprised that he’s finally listening?

I hold the phone in my hand, ready to call him.
It’s not enough.

I need to go find him, tell him I’m sorry.

I call up Mike, who picks up on the first ring. “Elizabeth, everything okay? Is David okay?”

I smile at his concern, “I’m fine, Mike. I was actually wondering if you knew where I could find David.”

He’s clicking something in the background, “Have you checked your app?”

I frown, “My what?”

He sighs heavily into the phone, “
Find my Friends
, Elizabeth. The app I had you and David download. Are you telling me you’re still not using it?”

His words spark a memory. Right before the wreck he was on this kick about keeping tabs on his friends and family. I teased him mercilessly about his poor detective skills if he was relying on a phone app to know our whereabouts. Up until this point though, I’ve paid no attention to the thing whatsoever.

“Oh right…the app. Sure, I’ll check that. Thanks, Mike!”

He continues rambling on, “Seriously, no one pays attention to anything I have to say. I’m try—”

I stop him, “Wait, so that means you must have Lauren on yours. Ooh la la. How’s that going?”

The clicking sound stops, “Uh, I’ve got another call coming in. I’ll talk to you later.”

He disconnects before I can say anything further.
I’ll have to ask Lauren about that later.

I take the time to pull up the stalker app on my phone, fascinated with seeing where everyone is.

Mike is at the station.

Lauren is at the gym.

David pops up about seven miles away from me and my stomach gives a nervous flutter in anticipation.

What am I going to say?

I know if I think about it any longer, I’ll lose my nerve, so I throw my phone into my purse and prepare to meet my fate.

I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel. I need to keep my head clear. I’ve gotten so caught up in his kisses and being near him, that I’ve forgotten we have real problems to work through.

So, first I’ll apologize and then we can work through this mess. I won’t act like a love-struck teenager around him anymore. He’s right about one thing—we can’t have sex until things are worked out and divorce is no longer an option. No more physical until we work out the emotional (I’m smiling at my own cleverness).

Right. Good plan.

I find the cross streets from the locator app and park in a dirt lot. I can see David’s truck parked not too far from mine along with various other work vehicles. I get out and my heels immediately sink into the soft dirt. I sigh. I didn’t quite think everything through.

Who shows up to a construction site in heels?

I get back into my SUV and look around for another pair of shoes. Luckily, there’s a pair of cheap flip flops in the back seat. They’re bright yellow and don’t match my outfit, but they’re all I’ve got.

A radio is blaring country music and people are shouting back and forth to each other as they work. I get more than a few curious glances as I walk past and I realize I must stick out like a sore thumb.

David’s right in the thick of it, laughing with one of his employees as they frame out the building. The heat is blistering and I’ve only been out in it for a few minutes. I don’t know how David is managing.

As if sensing my thoughts, he pulls his t-shirt free from his jeans and over his head. He mops the sweat off of his brow with the hem of it and then his crystal blue eyes meet mine.

The script in my head is forgotten.

All my plans? Gone.

My panties? Through the dirt beneath my feet and halfway to China.

He remains rooted where he is as if he can’t allow himself to believe I’m really there.

I know I need to remember my reason for coming, but as I stand there with the breeze blowing my long hair, I only want one thing.

Him.

I don’t wait for logic to return. I take off running across the dirt and jump into his arms. My legs go around his waist just as his hands come up to support me.

The whistles and catcalls begin almost immediately and I bury my face in David’s neck as I’m blushing crimson.

“Beth?”

“Shhhh…I need to tell you something.”

He waits expectantly, his arms tightly holding me in place.

“I’m sorry, David. For everything. I know you think I was comparing you to your dad the other day, but I wasn’t. You are a great man in your own right. I’m sorry I didn’t always see the best in you…I’m sorry that I allowed Landon into our lives. I’m sor—”

I’m trying to focus on his chest instead of meeting his eyes, so he has to lean down to get close to my face.

“Hey. Look at me. You think I haven’t been home because I felt like you were comparing me to my dad?”

I nod, tears welling up.

He laughs and walks us away from the crowd. “Baby, I left because I’m no good for you. I’ve been fighting for us, but it wasn’t until you asked me if I loved Jess that I realized the enormity of what I’ve done to you. I’ve watched you compare yourself to Jess for years and the instant things fell apart in my life, I went to her. Not you. A good man doesn’t do that. You have every right to want to stay far away from me.”

No.

I shake my head mutely, disagreeing with every word.

“You don’t think we can make this right?”

David gently sets me onto the dirt, several of his employees are still very much invested in the soap opera we’re playing out. He takes note of this and walks me back to my vehicle. Once we’re hidden from prying eyes he answers me.

“Beth, I want you—I do. That makes me a Grade A prick. You deserve better…I guess it took me long enough to see it.”

I blink rapidly trying to make my eyes stop watering. This is not how I saw this going. “So, there’s no chance? I came all the way down here to ask you to move back in…and all of it was for nothing?”

He looks like he’s been sucker punched. “You wanted to ask me to move back in? Even after all I’ve put you through?”

I sniff and open my car door, wishing the dirt would swallow me whole. “Not anymore, I guess.”

I leave him standing in the dust that my SUV kicks up.

 

 

“So he’s changed his mind all of a sudden?” Lauren pours another glass of wine as we sit on the patio, watching the sun sink lower and lower on the horizon.

I sip my sparkling water, a poor substitute in comparison. “I don’t know, Laur. He’s so hard to figure out—one minute we have this intense chemistry and he’s begging for a second chance and the next he’s pushing me away, saying I deserve better. The man is giving me emotional whiplash!”

She laughs and takes a long drink, “Beth, maybe he’s taking all of your sadistic questions as a sign that you aren’t ever going to move on. I mean, really, how can rehashing all the gritty details be helpful?”

I press my fingers to my forehead, massaging away the headache that’s starting behind my eyes. “I just want everything out in the open—no more secrets. I don’t want to run into her and leave feeling like she knows something I don’t. With both of us being pregnant and seeing doctors in the same office, these are real concerns here.”

Lauren nods, “You’ve got a point, but I think you’ve got to preface any conversation you two have with what you just told me. Let him know that you want the details in order to move forward—not to relive the past.”

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