Chapter Twenty-One
Drew sent me home a little after midnight.
As soon as I walked in the door, I set about getting ready to leave. It took hours to pack an overnight bag. What things could I live without? What things were essential? The items I’d normally cherish—my laptop, my cell charger—were pointless now. I wouldn’t need the files for The Sky Launch. My phone would likely be tossed.
In the end, I gathered my prenatal vitamins and a few photos of my family, as well as a change of clothes for each of us. The bag was small enough to pass for what someone would typically take to a patient in the hospital, and if Drew told me it was too much, I would leave it without hesitation.
I went to bed around five, but sleep didn’t come. I was anxious and on edge, and my mind wouldn’t stop thinking or even slow down. After tossing and turning for hours, I moved to the couch and found a marathon of Law and Order on TV to keep me occupied while I waited for the paternity lab to send the results. Both JC and I had listed our email as the preferred method of communication, but if I hadn’t heard from the company by five, I planned to call them. They were on the west coast, so that would still give them plenty of time to dig up results if need be.
At noon, Norma called.
“He’s going to be fine,” I said, which was easy because it was true. “They’ll probably release him today or tomorrow.”
“So the wedding can still go on as planned. What a relief!”
Here I got choked up. I wasn’t usually so attached to the pomp and ceremony associated with weddings and the like. It had to be pregnancy hormones.
Glad that she couldn’t see the tears forming in my eyes over the phone, I forced out my response. “Yep. Total relief.”
“Gwen? Are you okay?”
Goddamn Norma could always see through me so easily.
“I’m tired,” I answered honestly. “I’m overwhelmed with the ups and downs over the last week. But I’m okay.”
“That’s natural. I don’t know if this helps or not, but Dad’s lawyer contacted me. He’s back in custody, as you know. They arrested him and three other people from the house he was living in on charges of dealing and possession. Two of them have been charged with statutory rape and assault of a minor. They’re still investigating Dad’s involvement with that. If they find out he had any physical interaction with her, he could see some serious time. Either way, we don’t need to worry about him for quite a while.”
“Good. I’m glad.” Though, honestly, I didn’t really care, not in the way I once had, anyway. My father didn’t have power over me anymore whether he was behind bars or not.
“Me too. Well, you have a big weekend coming up. Get some rest and let me know if there’s anything you need.”
She was just about to hang up when I stopped her. “I love you, Sissy.” I paused, swallowing past the tightness in my voice. “Not just because you’re always taking care of me but because you’re also an amazing person.”
We didn’t often share our feelings, so I worried my declaration would raise red flags. Fortunately, I had near-tragedy as a motivator if I needed to explain.
I didn’t need to. “I love you too, Gwen. Not just because you let me boss you around but also because you’re a pretty swell person yourself. Rest. And eat! I’ll see you Sunday morning.”
The rest of the afternoon was spent refreshing my email and pacing and nibbling on fruit and crackers. It was half-past four when my lids began to feel heavy. I leaned back on the couch and closed them, just for a minute.
When I opened them again, it was 8:10.
I jumped up from the couch, cursing. I needed to leave in the next fifteen minutes to get to the hospital before visiting hours ended at nine. I scrambled for a few minutes, looking for my shoes while I scanned my emails. Nothing from the lab. “Shit, shit, shit!”
A call to the company went to voicemail. It was after five in California, and the message said the company was closed for the weekend.
Panic surged through me, and I had to fight the urge to sob. I tried JC’s cell, hoping he’d gotten the results even though I hadn’t. It rang only once before going to voicemail. Which made sense. His phone was probably dead. I started to look up the hospital number but changed my mind. If his phone was dead then he didn’t have email access. And if I talked to him, he could try to dissuade me from going with him again. My best chance was to just show up. He couldn’t turn me away if I was there in person.
Without wasting another minute, I grabbed the overnight bag and left our condo for what could be the last time. I managed not to dissolve into tears on the elevator ride down to the lobby, but just barely.
Downstairs, Russ, the bodyguard on duty for the night, met me. He hailed us a cab, and soon we were on our way to the hospital.
We made it to the ICU ten minutes before visiting hours were over. Drew had said I’d have clearance to get in after as well, but I wanted to make sure I got there on time so that they didn’t have an excuse to leave without me. At the security desk, I showed my ID and waited for the attendant to buzz open the doors.
But he didn’t. “Our system shows Justin Bruzzo isn’t currently a patient,” he said.
“No. That’s not possible.” I tried not to get worked up. He’d probably only just been discharged, or maybe Drew had arranged for JC’s name not to show up on the computer patient list. “I’m sure he’s back there. Let me in, and I know exactly where to go.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. The system says he’s not here, so I can’t let you back.”
“Your system is wrong!” So much for not getting worked up. I was freaking the fuck out now. I wouldn’t be kept from JC because some noble security guard wanted to play by the rules. “Can you call a supervisor? Or one of the nurses from the ICU?”
“No one’s going to let you back there, Ms. Anders. No matter who I call.”
Russ, who’d been hanging back behind me, came to stand at my side. “Is there a problem I can help with?”
“Yes!” I turned to face him. “Do you have a contact number for Drew?”
He shook his head. “Sorry. Dom’s the only one who works with Drew.”
“Dom, then. Can you get him on the phone?”
Less than a minute later, I was talking to Dom on Russ’s phone. “They say he’s checked out, Dom. They say he’s gone. That can’t be right. I was on time.”
He hesitated, and though it was only for a second, it was enough to tell me that he had something hard to say. That’s when I knew. I knew JC had gone without me.
“No,” I said before Dom got the words out. “Whatever you’re going to say, don’t say it unless you’re going to tell me where he is and how to get to him.”
“I can’t, Gwen. Even if I wanted to. I don’t know where he is.”
“No. Don’t. Don’t say that.” I was having trouble drawing air into my lungs. “Call Drew. It can’t be too late to join him. They couldn’t have left too long ago. I can still catch up.”
“Drew isn’t going to tell you anything. And he’s long gone now. He checked out this morning.”
This morning. He never had any intention of waiting for the paternity results. It didn’t matter if Chandler was the father or not—JC had planned to leave me either way.
I fell to my knees, dropping the phone. Deep, soundless sobs shuddered through my body, and there, outside the Intensive Care Unit, I grieved the loss of JC as intensely as if he’d died.
***
Eventually, Russ convinced me it was best to go back home before the hospital personnel decided I needed to be sedated. Home was the last place I wanted to be—I’d left with the idea that I wouldn’t return, at least not for a long time. How could I be there again without JC?
But I had nowhere else to go. I wasn’t supposed to let on that JC had left town, and I was too devastated to hold my emotions in. That ruled out going to Norma’s or Ben’s or Laynie’s. So when Russ gave the address of our condo to the cab driver, I didn’t argue.
By the time we arrived at our destination, I’d gone relatively numb. My head throbbed and my stomach ached from the intense crying, but they were the only feelings I allowed myself to acknowledge. The other emotions—grief, rage, betrayal, heartache—lay just below the surface of my deadened exterior. I’d have to deal with those soon enough. Now, I only wanted to sleep.
Dazed, I didn’t notice the figure standing against the wall by the entrance to my building until he’d called my name.
I turned toward the familiar voice but couldn’t manage a greeting or even a smile.
Chandler rushed to my side, worry etched on his youthful features. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby? Are you hurt?”
Another wave of emotion swept through me, but I managed to suppress it. “I’m fine,” I lied. “It’s JC.” While I’d never been a good liar, with years of hiding the abuse inflicted by my father, I’d at least learned how to twist the truth. “He was shot yesterday. I’ve just come back from the hospital.”
“Oh my God.” His concern seemed genuine, despite what I was sure he felt for JC. “Is he…is he going to make it?”
“He is.” Wherever he was, at least I had that. It didn’t feel very comforting though. In some ways, it would be easier if he’d died. Then I’d know he’d left without having a choice. As it was, he’d gone of his own free will.
How could he do that to me? How could he leave me alone and pregnant? Tears welled at my eyes.
Chandler opened his arms to embrace me, then seemed to think better of it. “I don’t know what to do. Is it okay if I hug you?”
I nodded. I needed human touch. Needed a shoulder to cry on. Chandler cared for me, and I didn’t feel guilty at all for leaning on him when he was there and JC wasn’t.
Chandler wrapped his arms around me, and I buried my face in his shirt. “I’m so sorry, Gwenny,” he said, gently rocking me back and forth. “I shouldn’t be here. This isn’t what you need right now.”
I turned my face so my words wouldn’t be muffled. “Actually. This is exactly what I need.”
“I don’t mean this hug. I mean I shouldn’t say what I came here to say.” He paused, and I waited to see if he’d continue, not caring enough to urge him on. “But I’m here, and I’m afraid this might be my last chance before the wedding to say it, so I’m going to say it anyway. The other day, I told you that I’d take care of you and the baby if it was mine. And I meant that. But I should have told you that I wanted you either way. Whether the baby was mine or not. I want to be the guy in your life, and I don’t care that your baby has half his DNA. I can love you both, no matter what.”
I sighed into him. Could Chandler be my future? I didn’t have the feelings for him that I had for JC, but he loved me, maybe as much as JC did. Plus he was here. Willing to stay. That earned him huge points.
And maybe I could learn to love him like that. One day.
Just…it wasn’t today.
Gathering strength I didn’t think I had, I pushed out of his arms. “Thank you for telling me. It means a lot that you would fight for me. But my heart belongs to JC.” Wherever he was. “If the baby is yours, I’ll make sure you’re involved in its life. But that’s all I can offer.” Right now, anyway. Later, perhaps I’d feel differently. I doubted it, though.
His forehead wrinkled, and I prayed he didn’t get emotional. I couldn’t take that at the moment. It was hard enough dealing with my own emotions.
But what he said wasn’t at all what I expected. “The baby isn’t mine. Didn’t you get the email?”
“What do you mean? No, I didn’t get an email.” I pulled my phone out as I spoke, opening the app to check once again for anything I’d missed.
“It was in my spam. Maybe it’s in yours as well?”
At the suggestion, I opened up my spam folder. And there it was—an email from the lab. I clicked the message and opened the attached document without reading the preface. The PDF loaded and I scanned it quickly.
Sample One, Bruzzo: The Alleged Father cannot be excluded as the biological father of the fetus based on the samples submitted from the mother and the alleged father and the DNA extracted from the population of fetal cells.
Sample Two, Pierce: The Alleged Father is excluded as the biological father of the fetus based on the samples submitted from the mother and the alleged father and the DNA extracted from the population of fetal cells.
“It’s confusing,” Chandler said, reading over my shoulder. “But, obviously, I’m excluded.”
A mix of emotions ran through me. JC was the father. I’d known he was, and I felt vindicated and relieved. My baby belonged to the only man I’d wanted to procreate with, and that was such good news.
But that man wasn’t here. And these results meant I’d be raising a baby alone.
Anger had been one of the feelings I’d managed to suppress for the most part. Until now. Now it was bubbling stronger than all the others, spilling over the dam I’d constructed over the last hour. Threatening to burst through it completely.
“I have to go,” I said to Chandler, too overwhelmed to keep it together. Not that I’d been keeping it together so far.
I was half ready to start toward the doors of the building when I realized I should say more. “I heard what you said, Chandler. I did, and I promise that it means a lot to me. In another life, you could be the perfect guy for me. But in this life, I’m not the girl for you. You’re going to find someone, though. Maybe not for a while, but you’ll find the woman who loves you the way you deserve. I have no doubt.”
He gave me a reluctant smile. “I’m not so sure. But I get it. You’ve made your choice. I hope JC knows how lucky he is.” He leaned in to kiss me on the forehead. “Goodbye, Gwen.” Then he turned and walked away.
I didn’t hang around to watch him leave, eager to get inside where I could break down and throw things in private. As I rode up the elevator to my floor, my hands balled into fists at my sides, Chandler’s words echoing in my head. I hope JC knows how lucky he is.
Yeah, real lucky. Because if he were around right then, I’d kill him.
***
I spent the next several hours vacillating between rage and productivity. I broke several dishes, throwing them against the wall, so goddamned mad at JC. How dare he make this decision for us? How dare he decide what was best for me? How dare he abandon us like this? He was the biggest asshole I’d ever encountered, and I’d known quite a few assholes.
Then I was angry with myself. Because I knew that I’d take him back in a heartbeat. All he had to do was say the word and I’d be wherever he said.
And then I was angry with him again. How dare he make me love him so fucking much that I felt like I couldn’t survive without him? It was so fucking ridiculously unfair.
In between my spouts of uncontrolled wrath, I did everything I could think of to reach out to him. I emailed him. I left him messages on his dead phone—messages that were in turn strings of curse words and I love yous. Then I harassed Dom until he gave me Drew’s email and phone number. I flooded those as well, despite the late hour. Wanting to believe that JC couldn’t possibly know the baby was his, I made sure to include that information in every point of contact. If just one message got through to him, and he saw that he was actually going to be a father, then he’d have to come back. If not for me, then for our child.
It had to be why he’d left before the test came through—because he knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave if he found out I’d been right all along about the baby’s paternity. He’d known I would insist on going either way, and he chose to slip out the easy way.
That thought would just stir up my anger all over again. More dishes would get broken. In one fit of temper, his laptop was thrown across the room, cracking the screen. It didn’t feel as good as I’d hoped it would, but it did feel vindicating on a very base level.
The sun was coming up by the time I dragged myself to bed. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally—the downside of not shutting down like I normally did. I’d almost decided to sleep in the guest room, afraid of how lonely I’d feel without him on our king-size mattress. I dismissed that idea in a fit of stubbornness. It was my bed too, and I wouldn’t let his shitty decision be the reason I was pushed out of it.
The bed was still unmade, so I didn’t notice the paper folded in half on his pillow until I was already lying down. “Goddammit,” I muttered out loud to myself. I was all-sorts-of-pissed again before even reading the note. It would be an explanation, I was sure. Some fucked-up attempt to justify his actions. And when had he brought it, anyway? While I’d slept on the couch earlier? Had one of our bodyguards placed it there when I’d been at the hospital?
Whatever. It was bullshit. And I was done with his bullshit.
I left it on the pillow and turned away from it. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
Not more than five minutes had passed before I let out a frustrated groan and turned back to snatch up the note.
It was short—shorter than I expected and much shorter than I deserved. Just one line, written in his block handwriting: As long as we’re alive, I love you.
I crumpled the paper into a ball and flung it across the room. Then I wrapped my arms around his pillow and cried myself to sleep.