Gavin
The document in my hand had stopped making sense fifteen minutes prior. In fact, I’d just been sitting there, staring at it. My mind was elsewhere, as it was every time I paused.
On her.
On the woman I felt more for than I ever thought possible.
“Sir?” my assistant, Amanda, called.
I blinked up at her. “Yes?”
“Are you all right?”
Was I? It was a loaded question with a complicated answer.
No, I was not all right, but I buried myself in work so that I wouldn’t notice.
I cleared my throat and gathered up the stack of papers I’d been reading. “Fine.”
“I’m heading out,” she said with a small smile.
I glanced to the clock and noticed it was six. She should have left long ago. “Have a good night.”
“You too, sir.”
It wouldn’t be a good night. It hadn’t been in weeks.
After Amanda left, I decided to head out as well. The parking garage was mostly empty, but a few feet from the elevator I stopped in my tracks. In the first spot was Emma’s Camry. I glanced back to the building.
Why was she still working? It was late. Was she up there alone? Or was she out with someone?
“Stop it,” I grumbled and continued on to my car.
I wanted to turn around and get on the elevator and go to her. Because I fucked up. The utter devastation when she looked at me told me so.
I’d lost it, and I didn’t know how to fix it, so I ignored the problem. I knew she didn’t betray me, that she wasn’t after money. I knew it, but I still lashed out, flipped out, and made a fucking mess of everything.
The Arnold Hotel was a pretty good hotel. Not as nice as the Cameo, but it did have a good-sized bar. I didn’t bother going up to my room or eating. Instead, I did my nightly routine and ordered a drink.
“Bourbon, neat?” Barry, the bartender, asked as I sat down.
I gave him a nod.
He set a glass down and poured, then placed it in front of me. I downed it in seconds, the burn as it slid down my throat intense.
Barry had waited, knowing how I was after waiting on me for weeks. He filled my glass again, then stepped away, leaving me with only my thoughts.
I missed her. I missed her so fucking much my chest felt like it was on fire, and not from the alcohol.
“Hi,” a soft voice came from beside me. It was familiar in an eerie sort of way.
I glanced to the side, but ignored her. I wasn’t in the mood to engage in small talk.
“It’s a hot night tonight,” she said with a sigh, waving her hand in front of her. “Are you here on business? I am. Just got out of eight hours of lectures and training. Time to unwind.”
I continued to stare straight ahead, ignoring her.
“I’m Trina.” She held her hand in front of my line of sight.
My eyes narrowed as I turned toward her. “Do I look like I fucking care?” Everything stopped as I glared at her. Blonde hair, blue eyes, fake smile. Once upon a time, I had fallen for it. “What the fuck are you doing here, Katrina?”
“Oh relax, Gavin,” she said with a smile. She was trying to be seductive, but it wasn’t going to work on me. “I’m in Boston, staying at this lovely hotel and as I stood talking with a friend, lo and behold, my ex-husband goes strolling past.”
“And you had to stop?”
“Exactly! It’s been years, Gav.”
“I wasn’t anticipating what you had to say. I was asking why you had to stop.”
She shrugged, that fucking smile grinding on me. “I thought we could have a drink for old times’ sake.”
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your son?”
She waved me off. “He has summers with his father.”
“I see that worked out well.” My tone was biting.
“Oh, well.” She shrugged, so nonchalant about her behavior. “So, what have you been up to?”
“No,” I said through gritted teeth.
“No?”
I pulled my wallet out and threw a couple of twenties down and gave a nod to Barry. “I don’t want to fucking play catch-up with you.”
“Well, that’s rude.”
“Have a good life,” I said as I stood, having had enough of her and her shit. She was the whole fucking reason I was in my whole fucked situation.
“Gav . . . wait, Gavin.”
I kept on walking, paying her no attention, but she caught up to me.
“Gavin.”
“Leave me the fuck alone, Katrina. I fucking mean it. Come near me again . . .”
“What? I’ll regret it?” Her voice echoed out into the lobby, garnering stares.
“Lower your goddamn voice,” I hissed.
“What I regret, Gavin, is letting you walk out that door.” Her tone held an edge of bitterness.
I laughed, hard and loud and filled with as much sarcasm and venom as I could muster. She had no right to be bitter. “Let me? You’d just pushed a fucking baby out. You weren’t going anywhere.”
“You didn’t have to go home, move out, change the locks, and file for divorce. That was a little overkill.”
“I’m a vindictive asshole. You knew that when we met.”
“Look, Gav—”
“No, you look,” I interrupted. “I don’t ever want to see you again. If you happen to see me somewhere, look the other way.”
I stepped onto the elevator and pressed my floor as I stood in the middle, daring her to try and come near me again. She glared at me, nose stuck high in the air.
In my room I paced, tossing my clothes off. My chest expanded in hard breaths. Five years since I last saw her, and it still wasn’t long enough.
Her lies, her fucking men behind my back. It was all a fucking game to her, and I refused to be a participant ever again.
“Fucking gold-digging slut!” I yelled out.
Realization hit me like a truck, stopping me. They were the same thoughts I had about Emma when she told me. I was so consumed by fear that all I could think about was what Katrina had done.
That moment had been a time warp for me, and I was lost. Katrina said the baby was mine, and there Emma was telling me she was pregnant.
Fuck.
My Emma was pregnant.
With my baby.
The world seemed to shatter around me. Every cell in my body belonged to her, and I had completely fucked things up.
How the hell was I going to fix it?
Everywhere they told me to sign, I signed, but I wasn’t mentally there. They could have taken me for all I was worth, and I couldn’t care less.
Though that was nearly what was happening, only in exchange, I had keys to a house. A house I had picked out with Emma. The closing had been pushed out a few weeks by the owner, and it was fine by me.
“What the fuck am I doing?” I asked myself as I looked down at the keys in my hand. How could I live there without her?
I couldn’t.
On the way back in the office, I tried to focus and not think about the huge house I was the new owner of.
“Hey, what did you get for lunch?” Julianne asked as we walked toward the elevator that let up to the lobby.
“A house.”
“Oh! That’s right. The one you picked out with your girlfriend.”
I ignored the girlfriend comment. “What did you have?”
“I met Jonas for lunch at home.”
“Home?”
She shrugged. “Jeremy is home sick, so I checked in with them.”
“Does Jonas stay home with them every time?” I asked.
“No, we switch it up to be fair. I was home with Jenna two weeks ago.”
We walked through the lobby, heading to the elevators that led to the upper floors. My eyes scanned the lobby, as they always did, searching for her. Usually there was no sight, but there she was, sitting at a table in front of the restaurant that occupied the lobby, picking at a piece of bread. It was the first time I’d seen her since she had thrown me out, and my chest fucking burned.
“How’s your new employee doing?” I asked, gesturing over to where she sat. Maybe Julianne could give me some insight.
“Emma? She’s fantastic,” Julianne said, her expression light, a smile playing at her lips. “It’s so good to have someone like her on my team. She is just soaking everything up that I throw at her.” She heaved a sigh as we stopped at the elevators. “I just wish she wasn’t sick.”
My head spun back to her, trying to assess from where I was, my chest tightening. “She’s sick?”
Julianne nodded. “She’s pregnant, and it’s taking such a toll on the poor girl. She takes it in stride though, tries not to let it show. I’m just afraid she’s overdoing it. But I’m more afraid that there may be something wrong with her pregnancy, and she’s not saying or just doesn’t know.”
“Why do you think that?”
Julianne stared at me, and I knew she was curious about my sudden interest in one of her employees. “I swear she gets more and more pale every day. I have two kids, and I never looked as bad as she does. She is so stressed and all alone.” We stepped off the elevator and headed toward my office, though I was sure she was headed to Alexander’s. “The father wants nothing to do with her or the baby, from what I hear. I can’t even fathom being pregnant and heartbroken at the same time and still manage to get out of bed every morning.”
I stopped in my tracks, completely gutted. I had done that to her. She was alone because I was a fucking asshole. Because I was selfish and scared and didn’t think before I spoke.
“She’s a tough cookie,” Julianne continued, not noticing or caring about the knife she was driving into me. “Really she hoped it would make him wake up or something, but it didn’t happen. It’s been weeks, and he hasn’t seen her or contacted her.”
Weeks? I froze as I looked at her. Had it really been that long since she threw me out the door? I still remembered being stunned at her demand. It had woken me, but by then it was too late. I left to clear my head and checked into another hotel. For the entire weekend I sat there wondering just how everything had gotten so fucked up in the span of a few minutes.
I’d been on autopilot ever since then, working twelve, fourteen, sixteen-hour days. When I stopped, the pain in my chest flared and it felt like I was drowning.
“Have a good rest of your day,” she said before heading down the hall.
I waved at her, but seemed to be lacking for words.
“Amanda?”
She blinked up at me from her computer. “Yes, sir?”
What did I want her to do? Call Emma up? That wouldn’t look good for her.
“Nothing . . .” I stepped past her and into my office, my mind a fucking war zone.
I sat down at my desk and opened up the second drawer down and pulled out the blue satin box that I had hidden. Inside lay a three-carat diamond ring that I purchased just three days before we broke up.
Did we break up? Or were we just having a fight? From what Julianne said, it sounded like Emma thought we were over.
God, even the words seemed foreign.
Her final words came back to haunt me, and I knew that day had been the end. She wanted me gone. I didn’t fight for her, but fought against her. I pushed her away. I left her. All alone.
She didn’t know. How could she? I’d told her I’d been married, but had never told her what Katrina did. I just didn’t give a flying fuck about my ex-wife or how her bastard child was doing.
Katrina was the gold-digging whore, not my Emma. I knew that, I did, but the situation had hit a nerve, and I reacted. It was so familiar. I had trusted that what my wife told me was truth. Our relationship hadn’t been in the best shape, but when she’d told me she was pregnant, as her husband, I believed it to be mine.
Katrina was only with me for the money. A socialite trying to ride on her looks and pussy.
There I was, on the eve of proposing to Emma—not that she knew—and she dropped the bomb on me.
Pregnant.
I couldn’t believe it was possible. She wasn’t on the pill yet, so I made sure to wear a condom, but it didn’t always happen. Those rare times, I pulled out. Not foolproof, though, I knew that.
If I were being honest with myself, it was more than the rare occasion and more the norm. Nothing felt better than being buried inside her bare, and it was a struggle every single time not to come inside her, especially when my body was crying out to slam my hips against hers and mark her insides as mine.
I knew that, and I still slapped her with the same label I’d given Katrina.
Emma had never shown me any reason to ever doubt her, and I’d lashed out at the first chance.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want children, but our relationship was so new. We’d only been together a few months. I knew I was being a hypocrite. The ring in my hand and the house keys in my pocket said it all.
What was my hang-up? I wanted to marry her, but wasn’t ready for children with her?
I thought for the first time about the child growing inside her. I imagined her further along, her stomach protruding, round and full. Round and full with my child.
I shuddered, the image settling in my groin, stirring me to life. The image was a fucking aphrodisiac.
I began to wonder if it was a boy or a girl. Who would they look the most like? Would they inherit my heterochromia? I would love a child with two different colored eyes, just like me.
My mind moved further into the future. Emma laughing and playing with our infant as she bathed him or her in the master bathroom, a smile lighting up her face.
It was the vision I’d had when I purchased the ring. I wanted to spend my life with her. There was no other in the world like her, no one that affected me like her. She was the sun.
And now she was sick. Beyond regular pregnancy sick, according to Julianne.
My chest tightened, and I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. My Emma was pregnant with my baby, and something was wrong.
Suddenly, I felt sick.
Was she okay? Was the baby okay? Would they be okay? I made myself crazy with all of the questions, fears, and speculations, my hand tugging at my hair.
“Why don’t you go to her?” Alexander asked from the door of my office.
My head snapped up and I stared at him, wondering when he came in and how long had he been standing there.
“I don’t know what to say to her,” I admitted.
“Just be honest, Gavin.”
“How do you always know, Alexander?”
He let out a laugh. “Ha! It’s called experience! I’ve been in shoes similar to yours.”
He walked into my office and sat back in one of the black leather chairs opposite my desk. “Listen, Gavin, Emma is a wonderful woman, and I could see at the charity auction just how much you love her. It was quite obvious. I’ve heard from my daughter about her newest employee and what a ‘fucking douchebag’—her words—of an ex-boyfriend she has. Is that how you want to be in her memory? An asshole sperm donor? Because that is exactly where you are headed if you continue down this path.”
I shook my head. “I want . . . my family.”
“Then go get your family. It may be earlier then you planned, and I’m sure that you did plan, but life doesn’t always go as we see it going. You have a baby coming next year, so go get your wife now. Tell her why you reacted the way you did, make her see how much you love her. Win her back.”
I jumped from my desk, grabbed the box, and ran into the hall. The elevator was too long of a wait, so I flung the door open to the stairs and flew down the four flights that separated us. I had to tell her, I had to get her back.
I burst through the door, scaring a couple of people in cubes nearby. Swiftly, I walked toward Julianne’s office, only to find it empty. I slammed my hand against the frame, pushing off and moving to search for her desk.
I was causing quite a commotion as I ran up and down each aisle looking at name plates. It was my only option with Julianne unavailable, as I had no idea where her desk was.
There were a few people standing around talking, and I stopped in front of them when I saw her name.
She wasn’t there.
My eyes went wide as I stared at the picture she had pinned to her wall. I pulled it off to inspect it. My mouth dropped open as a pit formed in my stomach.
“Baby Addison,” it read at the top. Not Grayson. It felt like a knife was being shoved into my chest as I looked down at the tiny first picture of our baby.
I wasn’t there with her. I’d missed it.
The name at the top also told me one thing—Emma really did think I didn’t want them.
“Where is she?” Three people looked at me, clearly stunned. “Where is Emma?”
“Why do you care?” a voice asked from behind me. A glance down to his nameplate told me his name was Josh.
I turned toward him. “That’s none of your concern. Now tell me where she is.”
“No. It’s none of your concern. You haven’t even acknowledged her existence in weeks. What right do you have to come down here now? Why now of all times?”
I kept my voice low in an attempt to keep the conversation between the two of us. “I fucked up. You think I don’t know that? You don’t know about our situation.”
“Oh, I know all about your situation,” he spat back. “It’s my wife going to Emma’s appointments with her when it should be you.”
“She’s at Mass General Hospital!” a woman in the cube next to Emma’s shouted as she stood.
“Wha . . . what?” My eyes were wide, and I felt the blood drain from my face.
“She collapsed. We couldn’t wake her,” another woman said. “The paramedics took her about twenty minutes ago.”
I felt my knees buckle, and I had to lean on her desk for support.
“She’s been sick.”
“Not that you care,” Josh spat.
I stepped forward, almost chest to chest with him. “You have no idea what I care or don’t care about. Do not presume anything.”
I stormed out, not waiting for a reply. There was nothing to explain to him. Only Emma.
My heart pounded in my chest, the tempo a beat of fear. With each block, it only grew in intensity. I tried not to let my mind run away with what-ifs and horrific scenarios, but after what Julianne had said, I could only think the worst.
The emergency room waiting room was filled with people, but as I scanned the faces, none of them were Emma. I went up to the reception window where a few hospital staff were sitting.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m looking for my wife,” I lied. “She was brought in by ambulance.”
“Name?”
“Emma Addison.” I couldn’t stop the tapping of my finger against the counter.
“Okay, she’s in the back. Do you happen to have her insurance information?”
I shook my head. She didn’t have insurance anymore; the hotel’s ended when she was fired.
“We don’t have it.”
“Do you have a way of paying for services?” she asked.
My patience was running low. What the fuck did money matter? Nothing.
I pulled out my wallet. “Do you take Visa?”
She nodded. “Mastercard, Discover, and American Express.”
I handed over my card without pause.
“I’m just putting a hold for services on.”
“That’s fine,” I ground out.
She handed me the card back and had me sign a sheet before hitting the buzzer.
“Go through there, down the hall, and she’ll be in the room on the right.”
I wasted no time making my way to where she was, only to be stopped when I arrived. It was a large room with draped beds on either side.
“Shit.”
Frantically I moved through the room, opening sheets and peering around others. Why were there so many patients?
Voices caught my ear, and I recognized Julianne’s right away.
I pulled the curtain apart and got my first good look at Emma in weeks. She looked so weak, so frail, her body tiny and pale against the bed sheets.
It killed me to see her like that. Devastated me that something might be wrong and take her from me. I refused to let her go.
I was going to fix this mess, even if I didn’t know how. Emma was mine, she always was, and she always would be.