Chapter 22
Nine months later
Since arriving in the late mail yesterday, the invitation had lain there on the stainless steel kitchen counter, mocking him with the message inside. Like some sick fucking clown, it sneered and cackled while it tore open wounds better left scabbed over. Brody leaned over the flimsy decorative paper scattered with a faded pattern of hibiscus and glared while the joyful words imbedded themselves into his brain.
Swearing loudly enough to blister and peel the paint, Brody gave serious thought to flying home to Atlanta just to beat the hell out of his best friend. As soon as that thought hit, he swore again and knew his mom would have slapped the back of his head for his disrespect. Brody turned toward the coffee pot behind him and set a cup to brew.
While waiting for the coffee to finish dripping, he took the empty whiskey bottle off the counter and tossed it in the recycling bin and cussed some more just because he could. The bottle had been half empty when he read the damn invitation, and he’d reached for it to drown the pain. This morning, his entire body ached from the stupidity of that decision, and his head felt like a keg of dynamite waiting for someone to strike a match.
It wasn’t Chase’s fault he had found happiness and was getting married. He and Anna had been locked in tight since the moment they first met. The night Brody had met Cassie. He hadn’t told a lie that night either. Brody couldn’t be happier for Chase. He and Anna were perfect together.
Cup of coffee ready, Brody took it, straight black, out onto the balcony of the rented space in Iceland, where he was currently on location filming. Not bothering to put a coat over his faded sweats and pullover, he let the frigid cold seep in to numb the aches and rubbed a hand over his face, trying to wake up.
Of course he was happy for the two of them. Chase had called before he even proposed to Anna and asked Brody to be his best man. A no-brainer. Nothing would have kept Brody from standing at his best friend’s side. What pissed Brody off was the location of the wedding.
Anna and Chase had chosen The Island. The same one where Brody and Cassie had fallen in love and made so many memories in that incredible week together. The idea of going back there, especially since he knew Cassie would be part of the wedding, was pure fucking hell. It wasn’t a huge jump to wonder if he actually had the guts to see her again.
Looking back, that island vacation had been the beginning of the end of the two of them. And God, he still woke up every single fucking day wishing for her back.
Those seven days had been full of sun, sand, and relaxing, just the two of them, including one more than incredible night of rum spiced cocktails, a floaty breeze of barely there dress, dancing, and a night of slow passion so intense, both of them had been rocked straight to their foundations with it — the night they had both admitted how much they loved each other.
That particular night at The Island had also left them with a broken condom.
They’d laughed about it after. Blown it off as a one-time problem. What were the chances? Cassie was taking birth control, so they hadn’t really worried.
Three weeks later, Cassie had come up pregnant.
Scared and in full swing with her travel and lecture series, she’d thought at first that it was just the flu or some bug she had caught and hadn’t been able to shake. That was, until Brody had walked in on her retching in the bathroom sink one morning. She’d been clammy and pale as a sheet of paper while he helped her clean up and carried her, limp and worn out, back to bed. She hadn’t protested once, even with all the stuff she had to get done. That worried him more than anything, since Cassie stopped for almost nothing. Brody made her some honey tea and, for some reason, left the house while she went back to sleep. At the pharmacy, he stood there like a shell-shock victim in front of the pregnancy tests. Finally, he bought one and brought it home.
She’d said he was insane, that it was just the flu. Glared and shouted at him some more but took the test anyway and sat there in his arms, quiet as a mouse, while they waited for the results. The two pink lines confirmed what Brody had suspected. Cassie had cried, thinking he would be upset, but he hadn’t been. The idea of a baby with Cassie had left him crazy happy. Shocked but so crazy happy.
He had already been so in love with her. It still blew his mind how fast and hard he had fallen for Cassie. She’d been the one woman he couldn’t get out of his head, and once he finally had the chance for more with her, Brody knew. Cassie was his other half. The baby had just helped move things along a little faster for them. Brody had already been looking for the perfect ring in his spare time anyway. Cassie was it for him, and he knew there would never be another.
Then the worst thing possible had happened.
They lost their baby.
She’d been three and a half months along, and he’d been so worried about her. Her travel schedule was nonstop, which he could have lived with and helped her through. But the entire first trimester had been full on with guns blazing and Cassie had been so damn sick Brody didn’t know how she made it through the day sometimes.
For most women, morning sickness hit in the morning and was done for the day. But Cassie had been sick and nauseated every minute of every single day. Nothing the doctor gave her seemed to help. She’d even once been admitted overnight for IV fluids when she’d gotten too dehydrated. Hardly able to eat anything more than crackers and sips of water, she’d dropped weight she hadn’t needed to lose and was exhausted all the time. She’d once told him she often felt like she could sleep standing up if someone would just prop her into a corner.
Brody had flown out to meet her on the road as often as his schedule allowed, to take care of her. She’d never once protested his wanting to be with her during that time. Then she’d woken him up one morning in New York — bleeding. Small spots at first that only increased. A few horrible days later, their baby was gone and both of them had broken with the news. He’d cried with her, not realizing how much he’d wanted everything with her until it was gone.
With no small amount of luck, exchange of money, and Simon’s help, Brody had managed to keep Cassie safe from any word of their loss leaking out. God only knew what the press would have done to her.
In the weeks that followed, neither of them got over the loss. Brody had buried the pain. His only thought at the time was helping Cassie, who blamed herself, from being eaten up with guilt over, as she put it, “one more thing she had failed at.” For her, losing their baby was the worst possible thing for her to fail at.
Brody, for the first time in his life, didn’t know how to help, how to fix it, or how to make things better.
They’d started to fight and bicker over petty crap. Both burying themselves in work until one night they’d had a fight of epic proportions and said horrible things to each other. The next day, Cassie moved out, and Brody hadn’t done a thing to stop her. What could he have done since she didn’t want him there anyway? At that point, she barely let him touch her anymore.
Now he stood looking out over a frozen country of Iceland, just waking up for the day. He was due on set for makeup at five thirty and was grateful for what was supposed to be a grueling day packed with action sequences that would probably need take after take to get perfect. At least his body would be exhausted at the end of the day and hopefully, for a change, his mind would be as well. Brody prayed to be so exhausted that he could pass the fuck out and sleep till dawn.
He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since Cassie left, he’d gotten used to living on less. But things had only gotten worse since Chase called with his happy news. Brody had probably reached too often for a glass or two of whiskey, every now and then, when sleep had proven impossible.
Two months. He had two months until the wedding and he would have to see her again. Time enough to get his head on straight and figure shit out.