November 9 - Hoover Colleen - Страница 38
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During a lull in our conversation, Ben spoons a bite of mashed potatoes into Oliver’s mouth. The baby rubs his eyes and looks as though he’s about to nod off right into his bowl.
“Can he say any words yet?”
Ben smiles down at Oliver, brushing a hand over his tiny head. “A couple. I’m pretty sure he says them by accident, though. He mostly talks gibberish.” Ben laughs and then says, “He did say his first curse word, though. We keep his baby monitor on at night and last week, clear as day, he said the word shit. Little guy is starting early,” he says, pinching Oliver playfully on his cheek. Oliver smiles up at him, and when he does, everything hits me at once.
Ben treats Oliver like a father would treat a son.
Oliver looks at Ben like he’s his dad.
Ben referred to himself and Jordyn as a “we.”
And they keep Oliver’s baby monitor on at night . . . which means . . . they share a bedroom?
I suck in a breath the moment I feel my entire world turn on its axis. I grip the table when the clarity hits.
I feel like such an idiot.
Ben notices the change in my demeanor immediately, and when my eyes lock with his, he begins to slowly shake his head, realizing his slip up. “Fallon,” he says quietly. But he adds no additional words to follow up my name. It’s clear that I know, and he does nothing to dismiss my assumption. He’s drowning in an apologetic look.
Instant jealousy.
Building, raging, insane jealousy. I’m forced to get up from my seat and rush to the bathroom, because I refuse to let him see how much this completely destroyed me in a matter of seconds. He calls after me, but I don’t pause. I’m thankful he brought Oliver with him, because now he can’t run after me.
I rush straight to the sink and I grip the edges of it, staring at myself in the mirror.
Calm down, Fallon. Don’t cry. Save the heartbreak for when you get home.
I’m not prepared for this. I have no idea how to deal with this. It feels like my heart is literally breaking. Cracking right down the middle, bleeding out into my chest, filling my lungs with blood, making it impossible to breathe.
Holding the tears back proves even more difficult when the door to the bathroom opens and shuts. I look up to see Ben standing there, holding Oliver, looking at me with a deep layer of regret.
I close my eyes so I don’t have to see his reflection in the mirror. I drop my head between my shoulders and I just start crying.
Ben
This isn’t how I meant for her to find out. I was going to tell her, and soon, but I wanted to ease into it. Not that I expected her to be heartbroken over the fact that I’m dating Jordyn. In fact, I thought the chances of her being happy for me were greater than the chances of her being upset by it. I never expected this reaction from her. Why is she acting like she cares this much when she made it clear last year that she wasn’t interested in anything more than the arrangement we made?
But it’s obvious by the way she’s reacting that she does care. That she did care. But for whatever reason, she refused to be with me when I needed her the most.
I try to hold it together, considering I’m holding Oliver, but every part of me wants to drop to my knees and scream.
I take a few hesitant steps forward until I’m right behind her. I gently grip her elbow with my hand, wanting to turn her around, but she brushes my hand away and walks to the other side of the restroom. She grabs a paper towel and wipes at her eyes, her back still to me.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” The words fall out of my mouth, as if they’ll somehow comfort her. I want to take them back immediately. It doesn’t matter that Fallon left such a big hole in my heart, I couldn’t help it if someone else found their way in. It doesn’t matter that Jordyn and I were both destroyed after the death of Kyle. It doesn’t matter that things didn’t progress between us until well after Oliver was born. It doesn’t matter that I’ll never feel the same connection with Jordyn that I had with Fallon, but Oliver makes up for anything our relationship lacks.
The only thing that matters to Fallon is the unexpected twist in our story. One neither of us saw coming. One neither of us even wanted. And one she’s partly responsible for. I have to remember that. As much as she’s hurting right now, she hurt me just as much—if not worse—when she chose New York over me.
I look down at Oliver and his head is resting against my chest—his eyes closed. It’s well past time for his morning nap, so I readjust him so that he’s lying in my arms. Every time I look at him, there’s a swelling in my heart. One that’s so different from any feeling Fallon or Jordyn could ever create. And I have to remind myself of that. It’s not about either of them. It’s about this little guy in my arms and what’s best for him. He’s the only thing that should matter, and I’ve been telling myself that for months. I thought that little reminder would be all it took to get me through this moment with Fallon, but now I’m not so sure.
Fallon takes a deep breath and releases it before turning around. When she locks eyes with mine, it’s evident how much of her I just destroyed. My knee-jerk reaction is to make it better, to tell her how I really feel. How—since the moment I kissed Jordyn for the first time—I’ve been nothing but a confused mess.
Actually, I’ve been a confused mess since the second Fallon pulled away in that cab last year.
“Are you in love with her?” She immediately covers her mouth with her hand, shaking her head in regret for asking the question. “Please don’t answer that.” She walks toward me and drops her eyes to the floor. “I need to leave,” she says as she passes me.
I back up until I’m pressed against the door, holding it shut. “Not like this. Please, don’t leave yet. Give me a chance to explain.”
I can’t let her leave without her understanding the whole situation. But even more so, I’m hoping she’ll explain what the hell happened last year and why she’s acting like this news is actually affecting her like it is.
“Explain what?” she says quietly. “Do you want me to stand here and listen to you explain how you didn’t mean to fall in love with your dead brother’s wife? Do you expect me to argue with you when you tell me it isn’t just about what you want anymore, but about what’s better for your nephew? Do you expect me to apologize for lying to you last year when I said I didn’t want to love you?”
Each word of the last sentence to leave her mouth is like weights bearing down on me, sinking me to the bottom of a lake. She lied to me?
“I get it, Ben. It’s my fault. I’m the one who walked away last year when you tried to love me.”
She tries to reach around me for the door handle, but I move to block her. I pull her to my side, wrapping my free hand around the back of her head and pressing her face to my shoulder. I press my lips against the side of her head, trying not to be affected by the way she feels in my arms. She grips my shirt and I feel her begin to cry again. I want to pull her closer, hold her tighter in my arms, but Oliver prevents me from doing that in more ways than one.
I want to say something that will comfort her, but at the same time I’m so pissed at her. At how carelessly she threw around my heart last year when I handed it to her. And how she’s doing it again now that it’s too late.
It’s too late.
Oliver begins to squirm in my arms, so I’m forced to release her so that he doesn’t wake up. She uses the opportunity to slip around me and out the bathroom door.
I follow her out of the bathroom and watch as she grabs her purse from our booth and heads straight for the door. I head to the booth and grab the diaper bag. Our food is still sitting on the table, but I think it’s safe to say we won’t be eating it. I drop cash on the table and head outside.
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