CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
SUTTON
“I’m sorry, only one visitor at a time,” the nurse says.
Dylan hugs my neck. At first, I thought this was a joke. Annie left me a voicemail saying ride or die. That was it, the whole message. I thought Pierce must have told her about the baby, and she was intervening on his behalf, but then Tawny called and told me Annie had overdosed. Without thinking, I ended up here, and now they won’t let me in.
“Please,” I beg a nurse. “I need to see the man who’s with her. I just need to make sure he’s alright.”
“Sorry, I can’t let you back. I can let him know you’re here,” the nurse says.
“No,” I blurt out without much thought. “I don’t want him to feel like he has to leave his friend.”
“Look,” Dylan says, “she’s pregnant. That’s her baby’s father back there.”
The nurse glances at both of us. “Wait here.”
Dylan bumps my shoulder. “You’ve got to play the pregnancy card every chance you get. It’s got an expiration date.”
I shake my head, unable to smile at her even though I know she’s trying to cheer me up. There’s nothing cheery about a hospital. It’s got that unmistakable hospital smell. Everything is colorless, and most everyone here is unhappy. Maybe it’s the food?
I stare at the locked door leading to the ICU. They have to buzz you in. Maybe next time it opens, I’ll just make a break for it. The receptionist behind the visitor’s desk clears her throat, like she’s reading my mind.
Maybe if she did, she could help me figure some things out. Aside from Pierce, Dylan is the only person I’ve told about the baby. I can’t talk to my dad. I’m not ready for any judgment he might throw my way. It’s one of those times when I really miss having a mother around, which is why I considered going to see her, but I know deep down that’s not the answer. I know the person I really need to talk to is Pierce, but I’m not ready to do that, either. And now with Annie hurt, things seem even more impossible.
The door opens, and the nurse walks toward me. “Two minutes,” she says.
Leaving Dylan behind, I follow her through the maze of doctors, nurses, and equipment, trying not to look in other rooms, not wanting to witness anyone else’s pain. She motions to a room at the end of the hall, a wall of glass, the curtain half open inside. I step to the glass, placing my hand on it, seeing Pierce’s profile.
He’s easily the sexiest man I’ve ever met. Handsome as the day is long, charming, funny, protective, and unexpectedly sweet. Every woman should have a man like him once in her life. A man that really knows how to kiss, how to make love to a woman, how to make your toes curl and your panties drop with one look. Everyone should experience that once. Problem is, you know no one will ever love you the way he does, make you feel that way again. He is the one, the only one.
So what do you do when he hurts you?
He lowers his head to her hand, his lips moving. I wonder what he’s saying. These two have so many secrets between them. I’m not sure he’d tell me even if I pressed, but I never have. Maybe I didn’t want to know. Maybe I didn’t think it mattered. Maybe I wanted him to tell me because he wanted to, not because I forced him. And I can’t ask him now.
Secrets have a power—a power that shouldn’t be underestimated. Quiet whispers that live between us and feed on our fear, they are just as dangerous as any weapon. They can hurt, cripple, and yes, even kill. And unlike a gun or knife, which brings a swift blow, secrets are cunning and slow, like a poison. You can barely detect it. Sometimes you forget it’s even there. It’s usually then that the fatal blow comes.
Gently, I rub my belly. Ride or die!
Love him no matter what. I know that’s what Annie meant. I said I wanted all of him. I said I wanted someone to love me as much as I loved him. I guess it’s time to prove it. It’s easy to love his smile, his charm, the way he looks at me. Now it’s time to love the other parts of him. Love the bruises, love the scars, love the darkness he tries to hide.
But he lied. And he lied big time. That’s hard to swallow.
I don’t have to love the lie, but I do need to figure out why he did it. Was it all simply to get in my pants? My heart won’t let me believe that. I’m not that stupid, am I? If I dig too hard for the truth, I could be setting myself up for a big fall.
Leaning my head on the glass, he doesn’t turn to me. I whisper, “To the fall.”
*
“Excuse me!” I call out, rushing across the street. The woman stops, locking her office door, turning to me. Pierce described her perfectly. A friendly face framed by a wide smile. “Dr. Lorraine?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Sutton Presley.” I study her face for any signs of recognition. “Pierce Kingston was one of your patients. He’s my . . .”
“I’m sorry,” she says, turning back to her lock. “I can’t confirm or deny that Pierce Kingston is a patient of mine.”
Smiling, I say, “I know he is. It was court ordered.”
“I’m sorry,” she says again. “I can’t confirm or deny . . .”
“Please,” I beg.
She releases a deep breath. “In order to discuss a patient, I’d have to have a signed release from that patient giving me permission.”
Giving me a sympathetic look, she starts to walk around me. I look up into the night sky, the stars shining brightly. “What if he was in trouble? Then could you talk to me?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t help you,” Dr. Lorraine says.
I exhale and lean up against the wall. “I’m pregnant.”
She turns back to me, and before she utters a word, I know the pregnancy card isn’t going to work this time. “Congratulations.”
“My boyfriend lied to me. I left him, but I want to know why.” I look up at her. “I want to know why I’m losing him. Why he lied to me. I deserve that much.”
She gives me a tight smile, and I apologize for bothering her. She leans up against the wall next to me. She keeps her word, not speaking, but offering quiet comfort. We stand in silence in the darkness. Two women who’ve spent a lot of time with this man, yet he’s hidden from us both.
*
I didn’t get any answers from Dr. Lorraine, but it wasn’t a wasted trip. It gave me some time to think. Still, it’s left me exhausted and with no answers, and I’m not sure where to find them. I’m not the type to go rummaging through his things. Apparently, I’m just the type to confront his therapist. Sighing, I head inside my hotel lobby.
Annie is the person who knows Pierce best, and I can’t ask her anything. The only other people I can think of are Tawny and Vicki. He’s too protective of Tawny for her to know anything. Vicki just might be the wild card in all this.
My cell phone rings. My hand shaking, I look down at his name on my phone. I’ve been avoiding his calls but know I can’t do that forever. Besides, what if something worse has happened with Annie?
Taking a deep breath, I answer, “I heard about Annie. I’m sorry.”
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice sharp as a knife. “Dr. Lorraine called me.”
“She didn’t tell me anything,” I say.
“Sutton,” he says. God, I love the way he says my name. It’s commanding yet vulnerable all at the same time. “Please leave this alone. Annie’s already hurt. I don’t want you to be hurt.”
“Too late,” I say. “And I want to know why.”
“Then ask me.”
“Why did you lie to me?”
I hear him exhale. “I didn’t want to lose you. You said it was a deal breaker for you. I couldn’t lose you.”
I feel my heart soften. “I know there’s more to it. I can feel it.”
“Let this go,” he says.
“I can’t,” I say. “When it was just me and you, I did. I respected your wishes. Like that day in your office with Vicki. I knew there was more to it, but you didn’t want to tell me. I let that go. But I’m pregnant now, and I . . . Why won’t you tell me?” I ask. “Why did you get a vasectomy in the first place?”
“I didn’t want any surprises.”
“To hell with you, Pierce,” I scream, sick of his double-talk and lies. “You tell me to ask you, but you don’t give me the whole truth. Remember, you said one day you’d tell me. That day is here.”
“Calm down,” he says. “The stress isn’t good for you.”
“I’m calm.”
“You don’t sound it,” he says. “How are you feeling? I haven’t stopped thinking about you. You both.”
“We’re fine,” I say. “How’s Annie? Is she still in ICU?”
“How’d you know she was in ICU? Were you here?” he asks.
“Earlier.”
“I didn’t see you,” he says.
“I didn’t want you to.”
“I need to see you,” he says, his voice soft and distant. “Where are you?”
“You going to leave Annie alone in the hospital?” I ask.
“To make things right with you, yes.”
“I’m not sure you can make this right,” I say, a little sob escaping.
“I need you to be brave,” he says. “Brave enough to love me.”
“Then you need to be brave enough to tell me the whole truth. I’m carrying your child. I can carry your secrets, too.”
“It’s not just about me,” he says. “These secrets don’t just belong to me. They’re Annie’s and . . .”
“And?”
“Don’t stop loving me,” he whispers.
How am I supposed to respond to that? I know I’ll never not love this man—this closed off, frustrating, bossy man.
But the thing is, sometimes love gets it wrong. Sometimes we fall in love with the wrong person. That’s the thing about a fall. You can’t undo it. You just have to live with the damage you get from it—the bumps, scrapes, and bruises.
Maybe loving him isn’t good for me, isn’t the right thing for me, and now I have to think about the little person inside of me, too.
“Have I lost you?” he asks.
“I’ll come by tomorrow,” I say.