“What did you just realize?” Beth asks, her tone now soft.
“It’s always been him.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “Always.”
I know in this moment that if I wasn’t going to get pregnant by Kit Riggs, I would never have a baby.
I’ve looked for him in others. I guess that’s a normal response to not being able to have exactly who you want. I can’t believe I’ve been so blind all these years. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to not sit my best friend down and tell her how I felt, how I always sensed I lost him even when he was right in front of me.
I’ve ruined everything because I was a coward. I broke things between us so badly, I can never get it back.
I sob again, hating myself for what I’ve done.
I press my hands to my stomach as I cry, swimming in so much regret.
“You love him,” she whispers.
I have to nod because I’m done lying to myself and others around me.
I don’t know that I felt for him exactly how I feel right now, and I don’t know when friendship love turned into romantic love, but I know that’s exactly what I feel. It’s a lifetime love, one that could’ve been nothing short of miraculous had I not made a mess of everything.
And I know he loved me, too. I could feel it in his touch, in his words, in his actions, even after I tried to lie about Brooks being the father. He loved me with his body, with his time, with his dedication, but now?
I can’t imagine ever being given the chance to make this right. The betrayal is too deep, too selfish.
“I’ve lost him forever,” I say, my heart breaking a little more.
“Maybe,” she says, a finality in her tone.
My lip quivers when I look up at her.
“Help me get him back.”
She shakes her head, standing from the sofa.
“I love you, but you hurt him. You’re the only one that can fix what you broke.”
And with those parting words, she walks out of my house.
My hands start to tremble when I realize, I may just end up losing her, too.
It’s impossible to stay neutral in a situation like this, especially when every single ounce of the blame rests solely on my shoulders.
Chapter 33
Kit
“I just want to hear you admit it,” Wren says, with a sly smile that takes everything in me not to knock off his face with my fists.
“Can we be grown-ups and not play fucking games?” I mutter.
“Naked Twister!” Puff Daddy squawks.
Wren’s lip twitches, but he just sits there, continuing to stare at me with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Fine,” I snap. “What do you want to hear?”
“Give it to me, Daddy!”
I ignore the bird, and so does Wren.
“You guys always come to me for answers. Why?”
I take in a long irritated breath.
“Because you’re the best,” I murmur.
Wren cups his ear, leaning closer to me. “What was that?”
“You’re the best at what you do,” I grit out between clenched teeth.
“I am?” He gasps, pretending to be shocked even though he literally just demanded I say as much.
“This is childish.”
“And yet you’re not leaving.” He spins around in his chair, his hands working over the keys at the speed of light. “What do you want to know?”
“How is she?”
“I don’t have cameras in her house,” he says as if he considered it at one point but then changed his mind. “How would I know?”
“Online purchases? Appointments? Has she called in sick to work? What’s her internet search history?”
The guy I considered a friend until I walked in here and he started giving me shit, turns back around to face me, brows drawn tightly together. “How in the world would I know those things?”
“Because you’re you,” I say drolly.
“Those things are illegal without a warrant.”
I do my best not to roll my eyes, and the effort makes the headache I’ve had for weeks throb.
“Wren, please stop fucking around.”
“Because you’re in no mood for it?”
“An orgasm is the best thing for a headache,” Puff yells, his wings wide for emphasis.
Wren points to the bird as if he was just thinking the very same thing.
“Maybe hooking up with someone would put you in a better mood.”
“You know that’s not going to happen,” I tell him.
Maybe some guys would run out and try to fuck away their pain a woman caused, but the thought hasn’t even crossed my mind. I may not be in any position to get that from Jules, but I’m not ignorant enough to think it would fix anything if I sought that out from someone else. No one compares to her. I knew that before I ever walked into that damn hotel room at my sister’s wedding.
His face changes a little, and I don’t know if he’s finally registering my irritation or if he’s smart enough to realize that there’s more to what’s going on than just being mad at the woman.