Love Me Like That (34 page)

My tiny baby bump isn’t even noticeable with most of the clothes I wear, but I’m totally in love with it, as if it’s the proof I needed that there really is a life growing inside of me. I know each appointment to the doctor is verification as well, but now I have the ability to reach down and run my hands over the proof anytime I need to.

I’m talking to the baby I’m not even certain has ears yet about what to have for lunch when Jillian wanders into my office. The first time she caught me doing it I felt like a complete idiot, but her ‘tell him auntie Jillian says hi’ reaction set me at ease.

“Has he decided what we’re having today?” She asks and sits down in her usual spot.

“He
or she
thinks Chinese food will be best,” I answer with a smirk. “But I don’t think I can handle all the sodium. We’re compromising with that buffet place down on Chamberlain.”

“A little bit of everything. Good choice.” I make sure I have everything I’ll need and stuff it all in my purse before she begins speaking again. “What are you doing this weekend?”

I glare at her. “No.”

“What?” She smirks at me.

“Don’t even ask. I learned my lesson the last time. You know Justin asked me if he could kiss me.”

“Did you?” She leans in closer like we’re sharing gossip no one else should hear.

“Of course not,” I huff.

She arches a brow at me. “Why not?”

I shake my head in response.

“You can talk to me you know.” She's sincere. I’ve learned that Jillian is always sincere, even when it’s something you don’t want to hear, she’s brutally honest.

“Okay,” I agree needing to talk to someone; the emotional roller coaster I ride every day is becoming exhausting. “This weekend?”

“Of course. I’ll come to your place and bring chocolate and a chick flick.” She grins from ear to ear. “Let’s go feed that baby,” she says nodding to my invisible bump.

Saturday has arrived quicker than I’d anticipated. I don’t know why but I’m nervous about spilling my guts to Jillian. I know she won’t judge me, but that doesn’t stop me from judging myself. Hindsight is always twenty/twenty and looking back I can see all of my mistakes like they should have been blatantly obvious while they were occurring even though I know when you’re in the situation perception is always different.

I inwardly wince at the look of pure shock on Jillian’s face after completing my history about Brian. I clear my throat to keep from crying as she clutches my hands and a tear rolls down her cheek. She tries to speak, but it seems her throat is just as blocked as mine. She slowly just shakes her head back and forth in disbelief.

I move onto Trent and Keira next, and like any good friend she gets madder than a wet hen. I honestly think if I wanted to go seek vengeance on either one or both of them right now, she’d offer to drive and pay for the gas. As a woman, she knows the detriment we all have when a friend betrays us. Most aren’t double-crossed as thoroughly as I was, but we all know the pain when someone we trusted stabs us in the back.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She finally asks.

“Nope. They were going at it in the office at the bar. He used the same pet name on her that he’d used with me for years.” I explain.

“What was the pet name?”

“Kitten,” I respond.

“Ick. Really, London? You let that man call you kitten?” She crinkles her nose, and it makes me laugh.

“It was enduring when I thought it meant something to him,” I admit with mild disgust. “Now that I heard him use it with her I hate cats all together!” We both laugh and it lifts my spirits slightly, but I know the rest of the story is coming and even though I suffered the abuse for years and Trent ripped my heart out, it’s the last part of the story that hurts the most.

“So the baby is Trent’s?” Here we go.

I sit back further on the couch and curl my legs under me, getting comfortable for the emotional devastation I’m sure is going to hit.

“That’s the thing,” I admit softly. “I haven’t told you about Kadin yet.”

I continue my story up until the day I left Kadin’s condo, and she’s sitting beside me with her mouth gaping open.

“You’ve dealt with more shit in the last ten years than most people go through in several lifetimes!” She finally says.

“Don’t I know it,” I mumble.

“He just lied to you and left with that woman?”

I nod because words are too difficult at the moment.

“What are you going to do?” Her voice is soft, and I appreciate her ability to read my mood and respond in kind.

I shrug and wipe a stray tear from my eye. “I’m doing it. I’m taking care of myself. Saving money for when the baby gets here. Living my life. I’m okay with where I am. It’s not the situation I ever dreamed I’d be in, pregnant and single, but I’m making the most of it.”

“What about Kadin?” she asks gently.

“What about him?” I look up at her.

“You love him.”

“And he loves her,” I say referring to Savannah. “I can’t compete with a ghost, Jillian. He spent seventeen years with her; the couple of weeks I was in his life don’t even compare.”

We sit in silence for several long minutes. “Plus, let’s not forget about the twin. I don’t even know what’s going on with her, but there’s enough there that he lied to me to go be with her. I refuse to play second fiddle to anyone else. Ever.”

“Believe me I get that.” She agrees, but then looks away.

“What? Just say it, Jillian.” I may be asking for trouble, but I want everything out in the open.

“You’ve had no closure,” she finally says. “I think if you had some-good, bad, or indifferent-it would help you move on. I know you put on a brave face, but I notice the times at work when you grow distant. I’ve seen your eyes begin to water and how hard you fight to keep the tears at bay some days. If you spoke to him and laid it all out, I think you could
actually
move on, rather than pretending like you have.”

“Tell me what you really think,” I mutter with a small laugh.

She’s right even if I don’t want to admit it. Most days at the office are hit or miss when it comes to my emotional stability. I usually blame it on the crazy hormones, but I know it has more to do with my unhealed shattered heart.

“I don’t know if I can face him,” I admit somberly.

“You need closure. That’s if it’s what you actually want.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m all for kicking an asshole to the curb, but you should confront him about it. The situation with Trent and Keira was different than what happened with Kadin. There was no room for misconstruing what they were doing, but the thing with Kadin could possibly be different.”

I sit quietly for a while and mull over what she just said. This whole time I’ve pushed reasoning with what he did to the back of my head, telling myself I’m tired of making excuses for people who hurt me. I turned Kadin’s lie into an all-or-nothing; myself, of course, ending up with nothing.

“You think I made the situation with Sierra into more than it actually is?”

She shakes her head vehemently. “I’m not saying that at all. There’s something there, but without him explaining it you’ll never know just how deep it goes with her. Did you get a vibe he was sneaking around the week you were at the condo with him?”

“No,” I answer truthfully. “I mean he retreated into himself a couple of times and I’m certain that had more to do with Savannah than anything, but it wasn’t until that Sunday that things got weird.”

“You need to let him explain,” she says resolutely.

“And if he feeds me a line of shit?”

“You walk away because you’ve done everything you can. But you know as much as I do that he deserves to know about that baby.” I hate when she’s right.

We left the subject alone after that and tortured ourselves with
The Notebook
… twice. When she left, I went to the park nearby and sat watching the moms and dads play with and chase after their children. The smiles on their face brought one to my own.

I know I have to tell him even if there’s a chance this baby is not his, but that’s not the reason I’m sitting in the parking lot of his building gripping the steering wheel with sweaty hands. I’m here because I miss him more than I could ever explain. I left months ago, but I can still close my eyes and see his handsome face; I can still hear his voice as if he’s standing behind me whispering in my ear.

I’m terrified that he’ll lie to me or worst yet tell me he has no room in his life for me. I’m scared to death that he won’t be happy to see me. Certain I’ll walk away from here today rejected by him has my stomach in knots. I haven’t been on this side of town since the day I left; I’ve avoided it like sure death would come if I crossed over into his territory.

Stepping out of my car, I can’t stop the tremble of my hands and the thunderous pounding of my heart. I’m full blown trembling by the time I get off the elevator and stand in front of his door. I’ve raised my hand to knock more than a half dozen times and each time I’ve lowered it and paced up and down the hall.

Taking a final deep breath, I lift my hand one last time and tap gently on the door. I wait a few seconds and turn to get back on the elevator, suddenly relieved and heartbroken at the same time that he hasn’t answered. Before I can take a solid step, I hear the door tug open. I freeze momentarily but eventually turn around to look into the eyes of the man I dream about on a nightly basis.

I gasp when my green eyes meet blue ones instead of the chocolate brown I’d grown to love.

“Can I help you?” The elderly man asks from the doorway.

I try to look over his shoulder, but he steps to the side, further blocking my view. “I’m.” I clear my throat because that just came out in a squeak rather than English. “I’m looking for Kadin Cole.”

He blinks at me a few times but doesn’t respond, and I have to wonder if he’s senile. “He used to live here.”

He tilts his head up as if he’s checking his memory for the name; he comes up empty. “Names not familiar, but I’ve lived here the last forty years.” Clearly he’s senile.

“Okay, thank you.” I tell him respectfully and get back on the elevator.

He’s moved, and now I have no way to reach him. I’ve waited too long, and I’ll never see him again. This hurts almost as much as the day I walked away. In the back of my mind I’d always assumed I’d have the chance to speak to him, tell him about the baby; apparently I was wrong.