Men of Nat Ex Boxset, page 51
part #2 of Men of NatEx Series
So far this week, I’ve learned that her favorite food is vegan mac and cheese—I understand Elle’s proclivity for vegan food now—and her favorite movie is the first Harry Potter. But the biggest thing I’ve learned is that she’ll ask anything. She’s learned way more about me over the last five days.
What I do for a living: packing delivery trucks with boxes like her uncle Jeremy used to do.
Why I moved here: a.k.a. my story with Amanda.
How I feel about her mother: that it’s complicated but I obviously care about her.
Overall, I’m just grateful we’ve had an hour almost every day to get the awkwardness out of the way.
She picks the right Lego up and places it in my hand. “Are you going to give me a clue?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Let’s see what you got.”
Her blue eyes stay locked on my hands while I work. I point to a few more and she hands them over. I’m not even close to finishing when she decides to guess.
“A peace sign.” She lifts her head to gaze at me, her expression unreadable.
My head jerks back in shock. “Wow. Yeah. You’re right. That was so fast.”
The hint of a smile peeks out around her mouth, and I raise my hand for a high five. When she slaps it, a twinge of warmth spreads through my chest. Sooner than I can name the emotion, she reaches forward and scoops up a pile for her next project.
“Okay. My turn.” Then she gets to work.
“Hey,” I say while she clicks pieces together. “I’m sure this is still kind of weird for both of us, but I’m glad you feel comfortable with me.”
She peers up at me through her tiny lashes as she snaps two Legos into place. Whatever else I was going to say floats right out of my brain as soon as she says, “Yeah, me too. I like hanging out with you. You’re pretty cool.”
So I watch her put something together.
It takes her two minutes to build a pretty slick-looking Nintendo controller. When I guess it, she looks almost as proud as I feel shocked that she knows what that even is.
“How’d you get so good at these?” I ask her.
“YouTube videos,” she replies without missing a beat as she takes the controller apart. “I watch them on my tablet after homework and while my mom works at the bakery.”
The mention of Elle makes me check my phone to see what time it is. She was supposed to be home a half hour ago, but I assume things are taking longer at the doctor than necessary. Honestly, I just hope she’s okay. But I can’t lie—I’m having a really good time with Sadie. Even if we are just playing with Legos after her homework.
“Do you need to leave?” she asks, not looking at me. “I can go over to Aunt Amelia and Uncle Jeremy’s if you do.”
“No.” I shake my head, uncrossing my legs and bending one of them to rest my elbow on it.
“Good,” she says, which makes me smile.
“I was checking to see if I’d heard from your mom though. You think everything’s okay? She’s been really sick, huh.”
“Yeah.” She starts putting her Legos in the tub by the handful. “But she’s not at that kind of doctor.” Then she freezes, her hand hovering over a pile of pieces on the floor. “Whoops. I wasn’t supposed to say that.”
I tilt my head and gaze at her intently. “What do you mean? What kind of doctor is she seeing?” Immediately, my thoughts start racing.
Maybe she’s at a plastic surgeon. That’s not a doctor who’d make her better. But then I think about other kinds of doctors who don’t make people better, like hospice doctors, because they’re just around until people die. And oh my god, does Elle have cancer?
Fuck. I’d hate to think she’s been going through that alone. Maybe there was more to her secret than just Sadie, and I’ve pushed her away like she’s an old pair of worn-out jeans I don’t care about anymore.
Has she been throwing up because of chemo? Does she only have a few months to live? What kind of person would I be if I wasn’t there for her when she needed someone the most?
Shit.
“I don’t think she wants me to tell you,” Sadie says, securing the top on her Legos. “You have to talk to her. I’m just a kid who wants to stay out of it.”
I’d laugh at the cuteness of that if the situation felt less dire.
She rises from the floor and takes the tub with her. When she gets to the shelf she wants to put them on, she presses up onto her tiptoes but struggles.
I get up to help her. Taking the tub from her, I say, “Here. I’ll get that.” Once the Legos are put away, I face her. “And I won’t tell her that you said anything. Can you just tell me if she’s…”
“She’s what?” she asks. She may be a mature young girl, but death might not be on her radar.
“She’s going to be okay, right?” I try to clarify. “She’s not that sick?”
“Oh.” Sadie nods. “Yeah, I think she’s fine. Just a weird stomach flu thing or something.”
I release a deep exhale from a breath I had no idea I was holding in. The relief is palpable. Even she recognizes that.
“Do you hate my mom?” she asks me in her no-holds-barred usual manner.
“What?” I cock my head and furrow my brow. “No, of course not.”
She nods and then spins away, heading through the hall and down the stairs.
“Why would you think that?” I ask, following her all the way into the kitchen.
As she opens the fridge, she says, “Because you always just leave when it’s time for you to go. It’s like you don’t want to talk to her or something.”
Man. Elle wasn’t kidding when she said that our kid is smart. And she didn’t get her perceptive ways from me. That’s for sure. I couldn’t see what was right in front of my face with Amanda for years. She used me, took just what she needed, and left me broken, begging for the scraps she dished out like rewards—all while leading a second life with another family. Her real family.
Obviously, I’m not the reason why Sadie’s so smart.
She continues while I struggle to come up with an answer. “I mean, I get it. She explained it all to me, so I can see why you wouldn’t want to talk.” Her tiny body disappears behind the fridge door before reappearing with a bag of grapes, which she takes to the sink. On the stepstool, she places the bag under the faucet and rinses the grapes off. “But I don’t want it to be like this forever. It’s almost Christmas. It would be nice if you two could start getting along.”
Suddenly, my body feels heavy with regret. I’m fucking ecstatic that she’s not dying of cancer—that Sadie knows of, at least. But I regret that it took that thought and Sadie’s sad plea to make me realize I shouldn’t let any of our past get in the way of the future we could have.
“It won’t be like this forever,” I promise her sincerely.
She simply turns the faucet off and puts the grapes on the towel next to the sink. Then she picks out the ones she wants to eat.
If I’d known that Amanda was going to die before she did, I might have pushed harder for us to pursue a life together. Instead, I let each day slip by, falling more and more comfortable in my role of supportive boyfriend who pretended not to mind that his girlfriend was so distant and busy. I was blinded by love instead.
And, now, I feel like I was blinded by pain.
Except I can see again.
And I’ll tell her as soon as she gets back. Even if she doesn’t want to be with me, I have to make my feelings known. She can decide what to do with that information after that.
If this past year has taught me anything, it’s that I can’t keep living with anger as my fuel. I need love and happiness, and I hadn’t felt love or happiness all year until I found Elle again.
With Christmas right around the corner, it feels meant to be to tell her what I’m thinking. How I’m feeling. What I want.
It’ll take some time for me to trust again, but I’m confident I can. The more time I spend around my daughter, the more I understand Elle’s motivations. She was trying to protect everyone: herself, her daughter, even me. I can’t imagine what it was like in her shoes, and all I want now is a chance to explain and apologize.
When the front door opens, I spin around, expecting Elle. My stomach flip-flops as I scramble to think of what I want to say to her. But it sinks once I realize it’s not her.
“Hey,” Aidan says as he walks in. “I’m here to get Sadie and take her to family dinner tonight.”
I draw my eyebrows down as he approaches. “Elle’s not coming home to get her?”
“Nope.” He shrugs. “Nic just told me to come here, pick Sadie up, and tell you you’re free to go. Something about a doctor’s appointment running late and Dani not feeling well.”
Sooner than I can ask another question, Sadie speaks up. “Did she say if the doctor could help her?”
Instead of answering her right away, he glances at me, which sets me on edge. “If she told Aunt Nic, Aunt Nic didn’t tell me. Sorry, kiddo.” Then he nods to the stairs behind him. “Wanna go get your bag for the weekend?” He has to raise his voice as she zooms past him and heads for her room. “Your mom said not to forget clothes for Christmas too!”
I chuckle. “Kids, right?” And I expect Aidan to laugh with me, but he goes stone-cold solid.
“I wouldn’t know.” He presses his fingers against his eyes. “Sorry, man. It’s just… Things with Nic…”
I raise my hands in the air, palms out. “I get it.”
Aidan releases a deep sigh. “God, it’s crazy. She wanted to adopt so badly a several years ago, but we were still building our business, so I didn’t think it was a good time. Now, it’s thriving and I’m ready, but she’s decided she wants to wait. But we’re not getting any younger.”
“Tell me about it.” That’s exactly why I need to talk to Elle.
“And I thought, with Dani talking about having a baby, Nic might get back on boar—”
“W-what?” I stutter out. Did he just say what I think he said?
“Dani’s at a fertility doctor. Didn’t she tell you?” he questions. But then his expression turns neutral as his face drains of all color. “Oh shit. Was I not supposed to tell you? Fuck, I can’t remember what Nic said now.”
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Not even a breath. Any air in my body is locked up in my lungs at the thought of Elle trying to get pregnant.
Without me.
Not when I’ve decided to try to win her back.
“We got in a fight about it and it slipped out, so maybe I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” he continues, though it barely registers over the pounding in my ears. Or Sadie’s footsteps as she barrels down the stairs.
“I’m all ready!” she shouts on her way to the kitchen. “Bye! Merry Christmas!” She squeezes me around my middle and then bolts to Aidan’s car, her owl-covered backpack bouncing behind her.
“Shit,” he says, retreating while facing me. “I didn’t tell you that. Pretend like you never heard it, and never say you heard it from me. Nic will rip my balls off.” Just before he closes the door he says, “Take a few free yoga classes on me for this shit.”
And then he’s gone.
But my questions aren’t. God, I have so many. They swirl around my brain, tightening my chest with every beat of my heart. The one that just came back to life only to crash and burn in the span of a few minutes.
Like: How long has she been thinking about having a baby? Is Sadie okay with that? Whose baby does she want to have? Clearly not mine. Was she seeing someone else this whole time? Was that her secret—not our daughter?
And the kicker: What do I do now that I feel like I’ve lost her for good?
11
Dani
What do I do in times of stress? I bake. It’s all I’ve had since I found out I was pregnant with Sadie.
Amelia needed help around the shop and I needed a job or my parents wouldn’t go for the idea of me staying with my brother for the summer. It worked out so well that I was able to stay for the rest of high school too. By the time I was twenty-two, I was managing a shop. Four years later, here I am, creating new recipes and overseeing the expansion of the two new locations.
Also, here I am, crying over double chocolate chip avocado cookies I can’t stop baking at two in the morning.
I haven’t gone home since I finished up at the doctor, but I did hear from Nic that Aidan successfully picked up Sadie, so I know she’s safe and sound. I thought I’d come to the bakery instead, find some clarity in the middle of a batter, but no. I’m just as lost and confused as I was when I got here.
Now that the last batch has cooled, I pack them up into a to-go container and take them to my car. I’m exhausted to the bone and just want to crawl into my bed and sleep until it’s time to spend Christmas Eve at my parents’ house. That almost gives me the entire weekend to do just that. I’m not due there until Sunday afternoon, so I have plenty of time to wallow over what has become my life.
“Sorry I’m unable to help you more.”
The doctor’s words ring in my head as I start my car and head home. I try to shake them away, but it’s no use. They play over and over again, even as I open my front door, toss my keys, the cookies, and my purse on the table in the foyer, and trudge up the stairs.
However, they abruptly stop when I flick my bedroom light on and find a man in my bed.
“What the—” is all I get out because my gaze lands on a small, open box showcasing a ring I can’t mistake for any other kind than one for engagement.
Trevor’s arm flies over his face as he’s blinded by the sudden light in the room. “Is it too late?” he mumbles before fully waking up and sitting up on top of my comforter. “Oh, god. I fell asleep.”
“Uh, yeah,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. “What are you even doing here?” I point to the offending box at the end of my bed before putting that arm back. “And what the hell is that?”
He snatches it up and closes it, swinging his legs to the floor. “I was supposed to be awake when you got home.” Then his brow furrows as he stands. “And you were supposed to be home when it was light out,” he says, peeking out the window. “What time is it?”
“Time for you to leave.” I lift a challenging eyebrow at him. “I’ve had a long day and I don’t have time for whatever this”—I point at the box—“is.” When I go to step around him, he catches me by the arm.
“Wait. Please.” The earnestness in his voice stops me in my tracks. “I know about the baby.”
Those words slay me. They slice right down to my core. Those are the words I wanted him to say to me over ten years ago, so it feels like too little too late.
“You couldn’t possibly know about that,” I tell him, removing my arm from his grip. My heart thuds against my ribs as I fumble through my thoughts for an explanation for this.
“Aidan told me you were at a fertility doctor,” he says, turning around to face me as I take my coat off. “He said he wasn’t supposed to, and I wasn’t supposed to tell you that, so pretend like I didn’t. Just like I was supposed to pretend like he didn’t,” he rambles. “Okay?”
At that, I relax a little. That’s not the news I thought he somehow heard. “Fine. I’ll pretend.” Then I pull my comforter back. “Can I go to sleep now? It’s, like, two-thirty.”
“Can I say something first?” he rushes out, taking a step toward me. “Don’t go through with it.”
I take my first good look at him tonight. There’s an uneasy edge in his eyes I didn’t notice before. And slight bags underneath them. Still, he’s gorgeous. The man I wanted him to grow up to be. With an engagement ring in his hand, no less, but seemingly for the wrong reasons.
“I’m not,” I inform him. The next words catch in my throat. I haven’t said them out loud yet, and I’m not sure I can. Or want to.
“Sorry I’m unable to help you more.”
But I give it a shot. They dislodge themselves and find freedom on the air between me and Trevor.
“I can’t.” That’s all I manage to say. That’s all I need to say though.
And then I crumble.
And he’s there to catch me.
“Why not?” he asks as he holds me, tossing the box to the bed. “Do you not want to have some unknown man’s baby?”
Crying, I shake my head against his chest, but he misunderstands my answer.
“That’s okay. Because I have an idea,” he says, carefully peeling me away from his body. His eyes pierce right through my soaked lashes and hit me deep in my heart.
I know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it, and that takes my breath away.
“If you want a baby that badly, do it with me.” He grips my shoulders, which is good because I need his strength to keep me upright. “Have a baby with me.”
The thought is sweet, but he’s still misunderstanding me. Which makes me cry even harder.
“Okay, so it’s not the greatest idea in the world,” he concedes, “but what do we have to lose? We did it once—badly. Let’s do it right this time.”
“I can’t…” I choke out, pleading for him to understand my broken words. I didn’t finish that thought, so I lick my lips and try again. “I can’t…”
“Oh,” he says, his arms falling to his sides as he backs away, leaving me to hold myself up, which I somehow miraculously do. “I get it. You don’t want to have my baby.”
My frustration rises as my chest heaves. “Just stop!” I take a deep, cleansing breath and fling an arm toward the box on my bed. “You thought you could propose to me and, what, get me pregnant? Make all of my dreams come true? When we haven’t even had a proper talk about what to do with the one kid we already have?” I scoff and roll my eyes. “Seriously, Trev?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” he says. “Because I haven’t stopped loving you, Elle. Ever since high school. You were gone, and I just got you back. And then Sadie made it sound like you might have cancer, so I got to—”
