A pregnancy test flashing negative in the test window. I stare at it, and then at her. “What the fuck is this?”
“I-I ... I think I lost the baby.”
“What?”
Tears are running down her face now, and her eyes are bordering on hysterical.
I shake my head. “What the hell does that mean? You miscarried? Did you bleed? Are you in pain? I don’t understand why you’d take a test for something like that and not go straight to the hospital.” I meet her gaze. “Annie, how do you just lose a baby without ...” I let my words trail off, because they don’t matter anymore.
Her eyes are wide and pleading, and this is not the grief-stricken face of a woman who’s just lost the life inside her ... it’s the face of a fucking liar.
I think back to the last few weeks her insatiable need that I just put down to hormones. Every single time I pushed inside her, I felt like I was cheating on Lo. I hated myself for it, but I’d made my bed. I’d stayed with Annie because she was pregnant, because it was mine.
“Jesus. Oh, Jesus, Annie.” I rake a hand through my hair, my breaths coming in ragged pants as rage bloats my bloodstream. “There was never a baby to begin with, was there?”
Tears track down her face, and she grabs at my arm. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
I yank free of her grip. “You lied to me? You lied about being pregnant? Why? To keep me under your thumb? What the fuck, Annie?”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She reaches for me again. “I love you.”
I back away out of the cramped bathroom where she’s too close. Hatred and grief swirl within my stomach, and bile rises up my esophagus, but I swallow it back down, taste battery acid on my tongue, and hatred courses through me.
“Get the fuck out. Get out!” But this is her apartment, her name is on the lease, so I guess I’m the one who needs to leave. I’m in jeans and a flannel, no shoes, no wallet, no keys, but I head for the door because I can’t stand to waste another second here with her.
“Gabe, please? I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to find out this way. I just ... I thought if I could give you the family you’ve been missing ... I thought—”
I whirl around on her. “You thought you could trick me into marrying you? You thought what, Annie? That I’d just wake up one day and be fulfilled with my life, with a marriage that you forced me into?” I drive my hands through my hair and tug. “You really are fucking bat-shit crazy. I mean, all my friends told me, but I loved you once. I fucking loved you, and I couldn’t leaveyou because I’d gotten us into this mess. I turned my whole life around for you. I turned myself inside out just to make you happy.”
“I love you too, Gabe. I love you so much, I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t lose you to her.”
My eyes grow wide, and I stare at her in shock. “This is about Lo? You didn’t want me to be with her, so you fucked whatever chance I had just so you could hold on to me. Is that it?” I shake my head. “Jesus Christ. I don’t even recognize you.”
“Gabe, please. I’m still me. We’re still us. I love you.”
“No. There is no fucking us. I want you out of my damn life for good. I’ll be back to get my shit when you’re not here.”
“Gabe, please.”
I stalk back to the door, grabbing my phone from the entry table and I leave. I can’t stand to be in the same room as her anymore. It’s a rare rainy night in California, and the pavement beneath my feet is slick. The cool winter breeze whips around me, the waves crashing on the shore call to me, so I walk the block to the beach. The moment I sink my feet into the sand, I just fall apart. I don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t know how to mourn a kid I never wanted, a kid who didn’t exist. I stare up at the stars above, barely visible against the LA lights.
I couldn’t lose you to her.
Annie’s words play over and over in my mind. Jesus.Lo. We were almost happy. We had finally sorted our shit. She was mine for a heartbeat, and Annie took all of that away.
I pull out my phone and text Lo.
Me: I need you.
She’s likely at work, or fucking Mace. I still don’t know how that happened. I mean, I guess it’s no surprise after the boner he’s been sporting for her for years.
Several beats later, she hasn’t responded, so I call.
“Gabe, what’s wrong?”
The sounds of the busy restaurant fill the earpiece and I whisper, “I need you, Freckles.”
“What happened?”