Chapter 3
Lara
Oh. My. God.
Could the earth open up and swallow me whole? Please. I was a good person. This kind of punishment felt unfair. First my baby. Then my husband. Then I run into the man who stole my virginity and my heart and then stomped all over it. Clearly, I had pissed off the fates. I was being punished. I needed to do more charity work or rescue animals, something to earn me some good points.
I managed to keep my cool until I opened the doors to leave the clinic. Once the air hit me, I took a deep breath and released it. My life was going to hell in a hurry. I headed down the sidewalk, pretending I was totally fine. I mean, who didn’t go to the guy who stole their virginity and then broke their heart to be inseminated with some random stranger’s sperm? Totally, normal.
I made my way to the parking lot, got in my car, and sat inside with the car running. I rubbed my face and instantly remembered I hadn’t bothered with makeup.
Oh god.
Not only had I seen my ex, but I had seen him when I looked like total shit. Yep, I had pissed off the cosmos. Way to kick a girl when she was down.
Memories of Mason and me sneaking around flooded my head. He had been the boy on his way to college at the end of the summer, and I had been the young and foolish teenage girl enamored with an older boy. He had been Brian’s best friend, and I, like many little sisters, had had a serious crush on my brother’s friend.
I smiled, remembering how he would pretend to leave and sneak out back to meet me for stolen kisses. And then there had been the night he stole so much more: my virginity. He had promised to wait for me. We were supposed to be together forever. He would be a doctor, and I could do whatever I dreamed.
My phone rang. When I looked down, I saw it was Kali. I cleared my throat and took a cleansing breath.
“Hi,” I said in what I hoped was a friendly voice.
“What’s wrong?”
I laughed. “Why do you ask that?”
“Because I can hear it in your voice. What happened? What did the doctor say?”
“Not much. I have my appointments set for the next month, and I start on the drugs that make me extra fertile right away.”
She was silent for a few seconds, giving me time to talk. When I didn’t, she jumped back in. “Are you upset because you are actually doing this, or did something happen?” she asked softly.
I sighed. “This is going to sound ridiculous, but I know the doctor.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
I shrugged, knowing she couldn’t see the action but not able to speak.
“Lara? Are you sure you want to do this? You are only thirty-six. You still have some time. Maybe give yourself a few months to get past this divorce nonsense.”
“No. I want a baby. I’ve wanted a baby for the past six years. It isn’t that. The doctor is a—well, I don’t know what he is. But he is the guy who took my virginity when I was sixteen and then never called me again.”
“Oh.”
“He promised he would marry me, and I was so stupid and naïve that I had actually believed him.” I groaned. “Now I had to face him and ask him to get me pregnant with a turkey baster.”
She laughed. “I don’t think it’s quite like that, but I bet he feels like an asshole for taking advantage of you. You’re a beautiful woman. It’s his loss. I hate to say it, my dear, but he is not the first, nor will he be the last, guy to make empty promises to get into a girl’s pants.”
I started laughing. It sounded ridiculous once I said it out loud.
“I’m losing my mind,” I muttered.
“No, you aren’t. That would be kind of awkward. I get it. Can you get a different doctor?”
“I could, and he offered, but he won’t be doing any of the actual inseminating. The place is very high-end. They have specialists in every department. He will oversee my care. Basically, he gets paid the big bucks to sit back and direct traffic. It was mortifying,” I whined.
She laughed. “Gee, you don’t want to ask your ex to stick some stranger’s sperm up your vagina? That’s totally normal.”
That made me laugh. It was one of those situations you never believed could happen, but here I was dealing with the unthinkable.
“I must have pissed off fate. There can be no other explanation.”
“Oh, hon, I’m sorry. Just think, when you are holding that baby in your arms next year, all of this will be something you can look back on and laugh. Hang in there. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Relax. Take a bubble bath, read a book, or binge-watch something on Netflix. I can handle the store. I’ll call in Beth to help out.”
I sighed. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. You need to take some time. This place isn’t going anywhere. You hired me to be your assistant. Let me assist you.”
“Okay. I’m going to—if you’re sure it’s okay.”
She started laughing. “I’m sure! Now, go home. Stop and pick up a bottle of wine and some yummy chocolates. Pamper yourself. Pretty soon that isn’t going to be possible. Do it now while you can before you have a baby screaming at you for something,” she teased.
“Thank you, Kali. You’re amazing.”
“I know,” she said and ended the call.
I felt a little better knowing I didn’t have to go in and face pregnant women and pretend I wasn’t jealous. I could go home and wallow in my self-pity. Fun.
I pulled into the parking area of my building.
“Good morning, Mrs. Brown,” one of the staff members said with a friendly smile.
“Gene, I am officially Miss McCall,” I said with a wink.
“Good to hear, Miss McCall.”
We shared a laugh, and I headed for the elevator that would take me to the fifteenth floor. Gene had been sympathetic to my situation from the very beginning. I had felt like such an idiot in those first few days after I’d found out Mitchel had been bringing women to our apartment. I’d initially been angry that none of the staff had said anything, but I knew they were bound to keep their tenants’ privacy.
I opened the door to the condo I had shared with Mitchel for too long. As I stepped inside, I took in my surroundings through fresh eyes. It was so cold and industrial. It didn’t feel like a home that welcomed you in. It wasn’t a home I could see a baby growing up in.
“Color!” I blurted out as I shut the door and took in all the grey, white, and stainless steel that surrounded me.
The only spot of color in the room was the navy-blue wingback chair. I walked over and flopped down on it. It was the last thing my father had given me before he’d died. He had said I needed some color in my life. Mitchel had argued with me about putting the chair in the living room, but I’d insisted. He had claimed it didn’t match our décor—a décor that was bland and lacking life.
I needed color, some pizazz. For so long I had lived in a world without color or excitement because that was what Mitchel had told me to do. I was tired of being his doormat. I had wasted too many years living for him and losing myself. I was taking back my life. The condo was mine. My father had given us the initial investment, and because I had been willing to let Mitchel have his business (with an alimony check every month), I’d gotten to keep the condo.
It was mine to do with as I pleased. And color pleased me.
I sprang out of the chair and walked to my bedroom, threw open the door to my huge walk-in closet, and dug around in the drawers at the back. Mitchel hated my lounging around clothes. Normal people called them jeans. He found them to be below our station and forbade me from ever wearing them. I pulled out the jeans I had tucked away and pulled them on. They still fit.
I found a short-sleeve T-shirt from a charity event I had participated in and pulled it on. My only casual shoes were the Nikes I wore for working out in the gym. They would have to do.
I took a quick look in the closet mirror and felt about ten years younger. I was tired of dressing like an executive day in and day out. I wanted fun and carefree.
I wasn’t afraid to go out in public like this either. I grabbed my purse and headed out the front door.
“You look like you are ready for some fun, Miss McCall,” Gene said with a wink.
“I am. I’m going out for some paint, Gene. Don’t tell the HOA, but I am getting rid of all those cold greys. I need some color in my life.”
“Good for you. I personally like blue,” he said with a chuckle.
I nodded my head. “Me too. Blues and golds and greens.”
“Bye.” He waved as I bounded out the doors and headed down the road.
I was on a mission, a mission to bring some life back into my world via paint. I didn’t care what the HOA said. I technically owned part of the damn building. My investment in the building was smaller, but it was still there. It wasn’t like anyone popped up to the top floor for a visit anyway. Screw them and their stuffy rules. I was a free woman.
I raised my arms into the air and felt free. It was an amazing feeling. Divorce made some people sad, but it made me feel as if I had been given a new lease on life.
When I walked into the paint store, the customer service representative took one look at me and knew I was ripe for the picking. I had a Visa, and I was ready to use it.
“How can I help you?” he asked.
“I want a lot of paint. I want bold, vibrant colors, but I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for.”
He nodded his head excitedly. “Grays are all the rage right now.”
“No!” I said a little too forcefully. “I have gray. I want bright. I want eccentric. I want bold.”
“Okay. We can do that. Let’s start by looking at a few schemes. You tell me what you like, and we’ll go from there.”
“Sounds great! I love blues and greens and even gold.”
The man looked at me slightly horrified. “Gold?”
“Not nineteen-seventies or eighties gold, but something warm that compliments the darker blues and greens I want,” I explained.
“Okay, well, I am sure we will find a beautiful combination that works for you. What room are you going to be painting?”
I smiled. “All of them.”
His eyes lit up, and I could practically see the dollar signs spinning in them. “Oh my. You are an ambitious woman. Well, let’s get you set up!”
He showed me various color schemes on a small computer to give me an idea of the “real life” look, but he cautioned that it always looked different once a person brought it home.
“If I don’t like it, I can simply repaint, right?” I said when he went through the whole spiel about trying various samples on the wall before I started painting.
I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to paint now. Because I was ordering so much and purchasing all the rollers and supplies in the store, they were kind enough to offer to deliver it to my condo free of charge. I hadn’t thought about that when I’d walked here. I’d forgotten how heavy a gallon of paint could be.