And I’m the woman who stupidly fell in love with him.
“Whatever we have,” I quiver, fighting back the urge to cry. “Is over.”
His gaze flickers, nostrils flaring while he runs his hand through his hair. “Don’t say that, Alexandra. You just don’t understand …”
“Consider this my resignation and termination of whatever you want to call us fucking around with each other behind your wife's back.”
“I told you the truth!”
“Yeah,” I murmur, fixing my panties since he didn’t even bother to pull them back up. “But actions speak louder than words. You want to destroy my father, and I’m the fool who fell for all your tricks. Goodbye, Hunter.”
I turn my back with a heavy chest, and the moment I take the first step down the stairs, I cover my mouth and burst out crying.
What the hell have I done to my life?
TWENTY-SEVEN
“I’m not okay.”
As Beau sighs on the other end, my soft cry carries over the phone. I didn’t know who to call, my sisters felt too far away, and Mom was still at the event. I've never felt more alone in such a big city with millions of people.
“Where are you, Alexa?”
I glance around my room as nostalgia consumes me. I’m lying in the same single bed from when I was a kid. My sisters all had their king-sized beds, but I always felt alone in such a large bed, so I would end up sleeping between my parents. When I was about eight, Mom suggested a smaller bed which got me out of their room. As an adult, I now understand why.
The bookshelves still house all my favorite reads, plus ornaments I’ve collected over the years. In each of our homes, a piece of my life sits on the shelves. I remember it all so fondly, when life wasn’t complicated, and the world genuinely felt like it was my oyster.
My arms wrap around the teddy bear my father won for me in Coney Island when I was five years old. It’s not the prettiest of bears, given it looks like a Care Bear knockoff. Yet, it still smells of strawberries even after all these years.
“I’m home,” I murmur.
“In LA?”
“No, here.”
“Okay,” Beau says softly. “Just sit tight.”
The last few days were exhausting. My life is spinning out of control, and I’m caught in the thick of it. Tears stream down my cheeks as I hold onto this bear as if my life depends on it. My phone pings, but I don’t want to talk or even read messages, especially if it’s Hunter. Reaching over, I turn the phone off, almost relieved no one else can find me.
My eyes begin to feel heavy from the constant crying. The sirens in the street are like white noise, helping my conscience to fall asleep.
But my dreams soon turn into my nightmare. I’m lying on the bed, fluorescent lights bolted to the ceiling, almost blinding me. I hear things, laughter, and machines, and then the nurse explains exactly what will happen next.
I will fall asleep, and my baby will be gone.
A dry rasp escapes my throat as I sit up, unable to breathe. Beside me, a hand touches my arm softly, forcing me to open my eyes properly.
“Alexa,” the voice whispers. “It’s going to be okay.”
My eyes sting with tears, and the hollowness inside my chest slowly begins to disappear. I reach out to touch my father’s hand, and just like the strawberry-scented bear, I don’t want to let go.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” I cry softly.
There’s a soft glow inside the room from my lamp. As my gaze shifts to meet his, I can see his glassy eyes staring back at me. I know he’s trying to be strong, but he’s struggling.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he gently tells me. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. I should have listened to you, but I was scared of losing you.”
“I promise you’ll never lose me, Dad.” I touch his hand and place it on my cheek, just like I would always do as a child. “There was just so much going on. I was scared.”