Will’s brows shoot up, hiding under his messy blond mop. “Say what?”
I’ve had less than twenty-four hours to process the fact that my fiancée spent her summer with another guy, and the news of her pregnancy isn’t going down real smooth. “Nate Crane got her pregnant.”
“Are you serious? I thought she was waiting for marriage to have sex.”
I nod, swallowing around that lump in my throat. “Apparently that only applied for me. Fuck.” I punch the wood stack then regret it when my knuckles feel like they’re going to explode. “She says it’s over between them. Doesn’t she deserve better than that? I swear, if I get my hands on him—”
“Nate is dead,” Will says softly.
“What?”
“He was supposed to be performing in Afghanistan this week with a couple of other musicians. Their helicopter was taken down by a surface-to-air missile. No survivors.” He studies me closely as he shares this news, and I feel my heart slow down to a dangerous crawl.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “Is Hanna okay?”
Will shakes his head. “She saw the news report at Brady’s. She’s in shock, but they got her home and into bed.”
“Shit.” I squeeze my eyes shut. Worse than my own pain is the knowledge that Hanna is hurting.
Will shoves his hands in his pockets. “She’s going to need you.”
WHEN I wake, sunlight is slicing across my blankets and I can hear voices outside my bedroom. My sisters, Nix, Cally.
“The military has issued an official press release that there were no survivors.” Maggie’s voice, soft, full of grief. “They have to do…” A ragged intake of breath. “…to do DNA testing to confirm who was on the plane. Because—” She breaks off on a sob, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
I push out of the bed and pull on a robe before rushing into the bathroom and vomiting. My stomach heaves and cramps and shudders, and when there’s nothing else left inside, I wash my hands and face, brush my teeth, and study my reflection in the mirror. The perpetual flush has left my cheeks, and I’m pale and ghostly, my eyes vacant.
Yesterday, when the girls tucked me into bed, my heart hurt so much that I couldn’t feel anything else. That ache is gone now. I can’t feel anything this morning, not numb but empty.
In the living room, Lizzy, Maggie, Cally, and Nix greet me with worried eyes, and I hold up a finger. “Don’t,” I warn.
My twin rushes forward and folds me into a hug, but I keep my body stiff. If I bend to this, even a little, the darkness will come back. I have to keep moving forward. I have to erect my walls and fortify them with ambivalence.
“Max called,” Maggie says softly. “He’s worried about you.”
Max. Max, who knows my heart is breaking over another man. Who knows I’m pregnant with that man’s baby. And he’s still calling to check on me.
“I’m okay,” I manage. “I need to get showered. Who’s running the bakery?”
“Drew’s down there right now,” Liz says. “She said she couldn’t sleep anyway and offered to run the front this morning. I was just about to head down so she could get to school.”
“Thanks for taking care of that.”
“Of course,” she says helplessly. “Anything for you, Han.”
I walk to the kitchen and fill a glass of water to take my prenatal vitamin. When I close my eyes to swallow, I see Nate’s face. Tender and sweet as he enters me for the first time. This baby is never going to know his dad. Never going to hear him sing outside of recordings. Never going to know the feel of his hand ruffling his hair.
Having the choice ripped from my control made me realize just how terrible it would have been to keep this baby a secret from Nate. Maybe I would have come to that realization on my own, but it’s painfully clear now. Especially in light of my newest memory.
Nate lied to me. The reminder sparks something like anger inside me. It’s not enough to fill the emptiness, but it’s something, and I’d rather be angry than be nothing but a void. When I was in LA, he lied.
“I never offered you what he did. The life, the marriage, the commitment. The happily-ever-fucking-after. I can’t. I won’t. It wasn’t a choice between him and me because I wasn’t offering you those things.”
But that wasn’t true at all. He told me that I needed to make a choice just days before I lost my memory, but he knew I couldn’t remember. Why? I took off my ring when I was in LA. I told him that I realized I couldn’t be with Max anymore. Was he stepping back because he thought I’d change my mind and go back to Max? Or did he change his mind and decide he didn’t want me after all?
What did he say that night at Asher’s? “I promised that when you made your decision, I would respect it. That if you took his ring, I wouldn’t try to change your mind.”
Why couldn’t he just have been honest with me? Yes. Anger. Anger is good. Without it, I’m afraid I’ll just disappear.