Entangled (21 page)

I nodded. “Nothing serious,” I dismissed. “I am kind of tired, though. I’d like to head back to my apartment and just rest for a while, if that’s OK.”

“Of course,” he said readily, before he led Jonathan and me out of the office and toward the car. Jonathan insisted that he should stay with me so I wouldn’t be alone, but alone is exactly what I needed to be. This was the absolute last thing I ever expected, and I had no idea what I would do now that it had landed in my lap.

My first reaction was to call Alex, but I knew he wouldn’t answer my call. And what would I say? “Hey, ‘
memba that time I screwed around on you? Well, turns out your brother knocked me up!”

So I called my other best friend.

“You’re
what
?!” Nancy shrieked into the phone.

“Pregnant,” I repeated breathlessly, like the less attention I
paid to it, the less of a reality it became. “Four weeks.”

“Whose?”

Dr. Pettinger’s voice ran in a constant loop in my head.
“Talk about a Thanksgiving miracle.”
I closed my eyes and gulped back the acidy bile rising in my throat. “Drew’s.”

“Oh, shit.”

Nancy wasn’t much for cursing and such, but she basically said what I felt. “Exactly.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “If I thought I couldn’t get away from him before, just wait until he finds out I’m carrying his child. He really will push to marry me on New Year’s Eve.”

“What did Alex say?”

“Like I can tell him. That would destroy him.”

“Any more than coming back to Los Angeles and finding you married and nursing a baby he knew nothing about?”

“I can’t do it, Nancy. I can’t hurt him anymore.”

“This is your chance to really show him you’re ready to be his partner. Let him in, hon.
Or let him go.”

Both options were equally as terrifying.
“Of course, I could just tell no one and take care of it myself.”

She
was quiet for a moment. Gently she said, “No, you can’t.”

Another sigh. She was right. “How did I get it all so wrong, Nancy? I never should have come out here.”

“Or maybe ‘out there’ is right where you need to be. Think about it, Rachel. Everything you lost is being restored to you, one little piece at a time.”

“In the wrong order,” I muttered. “Like a Picasso painting.”

I could hear her smile. “That doesn’t mean it can’t be beautiful. You just need the proper perspective.”

After I hung up with Nancy, I pulled the bin full of Jason’s belongings from my closet. I
reached for Monty, his favorite teddy bear, and held it close to my heart. It used to smell just like him, that perfect blend of baby powder and gentle-wash detergent on his clothes. Now all I had were memories of what used to be. Memories that had already begun to fade because I had been too afraid to face them.

So face them I did. I went through every single photo I had, from the time I got pregnant, to the days before I lost my precious boy. I watched him grow. I watched him thrive. He wasn’t just a child. He was a miracle.

I gently placed my hand on my tummy as I wondered what kind of miracle grew within me now. Was it a girl? Was it a boy? Would it have dark hair and blue eyes like a true Fullerton? Or brown hair and green eyes like me and my Gram?

The possibilities were endless.

I went through the books I had read to Jason as a child, all his favorites that he always insisted to hear more than once. Would this child read? Would she write? Would she draw like her big brother, Jonathan?

Jonathan
, I thought. How beside himself he would be at the news. Whether or not I could give him the family he wanted, I now could give him a little brother or sister that I knew he would adore.

Hopefully they’d love each other and look out for each other more than Drew and Alex did.

By the time I drifted to sleep, I had a list of potential names, and a growing list of things I would need to prepare for and raise a baby. I was filled with hope and wonder, in a way I hadn’t since the first time I was pregnant.

I wanted this baby more than
anything, even if that meant I had to be alone. When I called Alex that next morning, I fully intended to offer him the whole of my life, even my unborn child. If he loved me like I hoped, he’d accept the both of us.

If not, I would do it on my own.

This time I was not afraid.

I hadn’t planned on having a baby, but suddenly it was the only thing that mattered.

I tried to call Alex at least five times before Jonathan arrived that morning. He never answered, and I never left a message. I owed him something way more personal than an email. Plus I wanted/needed to talk to him one more time. Even if I couldn’t reach him, even if he bawled me out or called me every name in the book, at least I would know I did everything I could to save our relationship.

Jonathan was attentive that morning and waited on me hand and foot. “You’re so pale,” he commented as he felt my head for fever. I had to smile.

“Just worn down. Food poisoning takes a lot out of you.”

“Was that what it was?”

I nodded. “Nothing serious at all. I’m perfectly OK.”

In fact, I was better than OK
, morning sickness aside. I got a clean bill of health on my first doctor visit at the end of the week. She ran a litany of tests to monitor things like blood sugar, and everything was right in range of where it needed to be.

I spent the weekend perusing shopping centers for toys and baby stuff. Though I knew I tempted fate to do it, I bought a plush, stuffed horse that reminded me of my time on Alex’s ranch. I vowed that no matter what gender this baby happened to be, I would foster the same passion for horses his or her ancestors had.

Of course, my ultimate fantasy was raising the baby on Alex’s ranch, amidst the green rolling hills far away from L.A. Every time I thought about raising a baby in Drew’s multi-billion-dollar showcase in Beverly Hills, I had to fight back a panic attack. Being born to a man like Drew Fullerton was a daunting prospect. This baby wouldn’t just be a child… he or she would be an heir, with all of the same expectations that poor Jonathan balanced on his wee shoulders from the time was old enough to stand. If I was another kind of person, I might be tempted to fudge the truth about this child’s paternity, to raise him or her just under the radar.

But I couldn’t do something like that. Even though I knew that telling Drew the truth bonded me to him forever, he had a right to know about this child. He had the right to be a father. Unlike Zach, who had no interest in fatherhood, I already knew what that title meant to Drew…and how far he’d go to protect it.

I just wanted to speak to Alex first. He had been my best friend, my rock and my hero. He made me stronger, and only he could save me from the lion’s den now. But he ignored every phone call and email. It was as if he knew that the next call would be the call to change everything.

And really… it was.

Each day that he ignored that ringing phone was another day the cat still lived in that box rigged with poison, and we had no idea if it was alive or dead.

I thought about flying to London myself. I’d be a lot harder to ignore if he could see me face to face. But that Monday was Christmas Eve. The logistics of pulling off an impromptu trip abroad were a little too gargantuan, especially since I spent half of my day doubled over the toilet.

I was looking forward to my holiday week. I was tired all the time, so it felt good to nap when I needed to. I was napping on my living room couch that Monday when I heard pounding on my front door. I hoped it was Alex, the only Christmas surprise I wanted. I tried to wish the thought into reality every step it took me to run to the door.

There stood Drew and Jonathan, dragging a Christmas tree and holding boxes of ornaments that we made the year before. “Merry Christmas!” they greeted in unison.

I laughed in spite of myself as I spied their matching Santa hats. “What are you doing?”

“Spreading Christmas joy,” Drew grinned as they pulled the tree into the apartment.

“No one should be alone on Christmas,” Jonathan informed me as he carried a bag of groceries to my kitchen. There were bags of popping corn and fresh cranberries for the tree, of course, but there was also hot chocolate mix, some cookies from Cleo and a quart of egg nog.

Drew took note of my pallid complexion. “Are you feeling all right, Rachel? You’re white as paper.”

“I just haven’t eaten,” I shrugged as I reached for a cookie. My stomach rebelled with the first citrusy bite. I darted toward the bathroom. I stayed in there so long, Drew came to check and see if I was OK.

“Are you still sick, Rachel?” he asked through the door.

I opened the door and slipped past him. “Wouldn’t you know it? Food poisoning last week. Flu bug this week. Bah humbug.”

“Have you seen a doctor?” he asked and I nodded.

“It’s nothing serious. Just need a little time to rest,” I lied easily.

He guided me back to the living room with his hand at the small of my back. “You sit and relax, then. We can put up the tree.”

I watched the boys sloppily attempt to decorate my tree, often laughing at their earnest endeavor as they poked themselves with needles and very nearly took the whole tree down on at least two occasions. In the end, though, it was one of the most beautiful trees I had ever seen, because it had been decorated with love.

I held out arms for Jonathan, who pounced happily next to me on the sofa. “Merry Christmas, Rachel!” he said as he threw his arms around my neck. “I love you.”

My heart tugged. Of all the Fullertons, he was the one who possessed my heart wholly and truly, and always had. “I love you, too, Jonathan.” I kissed him on the cheek and cuddled him close as we looked at the twinkling lights on the tree.

Drew ordered Chinese food for dinner, and we all sat around watching holiday movies throughout the rest of the afternoon. By seven o’clock, Drew informed Jonathan that they would have to head to his mother’s house. “Okay,” Jonathan agreed before he pulled a present out from under the tree. “I want you to open this before I go,” he told me as he handed me the box.

I unwrapped his present. He had painted a portrait of Drew, himself and me around my special Christmas tree the year before, and had it framed. I hugged him close. “This is my favorite gift,” I proclaimed, before giving him the photo of him and Becca from the previous summer that I had framed for him.

“This is mine,” he said as he gave me another kiss on the cheek.

They were on their way by eight o’clock, and I settled back into my fleece throw to watch TV under the sparkling lights of my tree. I stared at my phone, willing it to ring. Finally I broke down and sent Alex a text, wishing both him and Max a merry Christmas.

He still hadn’t bothered to answer by the time Drew returned to my apartment with a container of chicken noodle soup. “I noticed you didn’t eat very much earlier.”

“Kung Pao and the stomach flu don’t exactly go hand in hand,” I informed him as I reached for the container. He kept it out of reach.

“You go sit down. I’ll heat it up for you.”

“Drew,” I tried to protest but he shook his head.

“Let someone else take care of you for a change,” he said softly.
“Go lie down.”

I didn’t have the strength to fight him. I curled back up on my sofa as he heated the bowl of chicken noodle soup. He found a sleeve of unsalted crackers, which he added to the tray as he brought it over to me.

“Shouldn’t you be off celebrating the holiday with your bride to be?” I asked as I pulled myself into a seated position.

“She’s off with some friends, partying in Hawaii. I’ll fly out and meet her tomorrow. It’s our last real
harrah before married life. We plan to start a family right away. I think that would do Jonathan a world of good, to have a younger sibling to look after.”

I looked away, certain he could read the truth all over my face.
“Didn’t do much for you,” I pointed out as I attempted to change the subject.

“
Touche,” he responded. “Which is why I want to do it differently this time around.”

“No beatings,” I supplied, which made him swivel his head to look at me.

“He told you about that?”

I nodded. “He said you were his hero. Like from all those comic books you used to read.”

A wry smile crossed his face. “That was a very long time ago. And we’ve both grown up since then.”

“Have you?” I queried thoughtfully. “Seems to me that you’re still fighting over your favorite toys.”

His eyes locked with mine. “Seems to me he’s not fighting at all.” I looked away. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

I looked him straight in the eye. “No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” he agreed. He glanced at my tree. “Do you remember last Christmas Eve?” he asked softly.

I thought back to that magical night in his study, when we made love for the first time. “Of course I do.”

“It was the best Christmas of my life,” he murmured as he stared at the twinkling tree.

I thought about the new life growing inside me. “A lot can change in a year.”

“Indeed. But there are nights… like tonight… when I would do just about anything to change things back to the way they were.”

I set my half-eaten cracker on the tray. My stomach gurgled from the tension in the air. “I think I’m going to go lie down,” I said as I struggled to my feet. He hopped up easily to grab my elbow and guide me to my bedroom. He got me settled, before placing a hand on my forehead. “Warm,” he noted. “I’m going to get you a wet wash cloth.”

I nodded as I snuggled further into the pillow. I may have dozed a bit before Drew returned. I was so tired I could drift off just with a long blink. I heard something rattle before Drew’s voice filtered into my subconscious.

“You’re pregnant?”

My eyes popped open as I jolted upright in bed. He carried my large bottle of prenatal vitamins, which had been prescribed especially for me. My mouth dropped open but all words strangled in my throat.

“T
ell me!” he demanded, his face stormy like a thundercloud.

I shrunk back.
“Yes,” I finally squeaked.

He advanced on the bed. “When were you planning on telling me?”

My eyebrow arched. “What makes you think it’s yours?”

He was unaffected by my retort. “If it were Alex’s, he would be here.” I dropped my eyes from his, so he went on. “When did you find out?”

“The doctor told me last week. I’m due August 23.”

I could see him make speedy calculations in his head. “That’s perfect.
You’ll move back into the house right away, of course. We’ll get married on New Year’s Eve and announce the pregnancy within a month of that.”

“
Once again, you’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” I interrupted. “I haven’t said yes.”

“You’re not going to say no,” he reasoned, but I didn’t answer. “Rachel, you’re not going to keep me from my child.”

“Our child,” I corrected. “And I’m not going to have you manipulate me like a puppet on a string, doing whatever you want at the mere command. I’m not your employee. I’m your partner. We’re equal in this or we’re nothing.”

He set the vitamins on the night stand before he crawled onto the bed. “Of course we’re equals,” he murmured as he reached out a hand to touch my tummy.
“That is why you should be my wife. Equal in every way.”

I watched as he caressed my stomach in sil
ent wonder. “You know why I can’t say yes, Drew.”

His eyes hardened as they met mine. “Because of Alex?”

“Yes,” I answered honestly. “I love him. He’s the man I want to marry, if he’ll have me.”

Anger crossed his hard features like a thunderstorm. “You would still choose him? After everything? Even now?” He glanced back at my stomach. “It would seem that Fate has chosen another path for you.”

“Maybe. But I can’t move forward until I know that it’s truly over with Alex. I owe him that much.”

Drew was dumbstruck.
“What more proof do you need?” he asked. “You tell him that you slept with me, and he moves out of the country entirely. What do you think he’d do if he found out that you were pregnant with my child? I told you, Rachel. He can’t commit to anyone or anything. He’ll bolt just like a nervous horse whenever there’s any sign of trouble. He’s weak. He’s always been weak.”

I shook my head. “He’s wounded. Just like you. Just like Jonathan.”

“And you’re the messiah destined to save us all,” he supplied. “I have news for you, Rachel. Alex doesn’t want to be saved. He doesn’t want to be happy or successful, because then he would have no excuses to fail. He adopts this pity-poor-me routine, playing the sad widower with a sick child to win over women who could have never loved him otherwise.”

“That’s not true,” I argued.

“Really? You couldn’t stand the sight of him last year, or so you keep telling me. But he pulls that brokenhearted sad sap routine and all of a sudden you want to ride to his rescue, cape and all.”

“Like you did once upon a time?”

“I was a fool,” he said. “A man stays. A boy runs. Where is your prince charming now, Rachel?”

My head throbbed from the headache I nursed. The last thing I wanted to do was to argue with Drew all night over Alex.

Fortunately he took mercy on me and allowed me to rest. I overheard him call Olivia, telling her that something had come up and he would see her when she returned over the weekend. I wanted to argue, but I was too tired to muster the energy. He doted on me hand and food for the next four days straight. He kept me nourished and warm, and so far had not pushed himself, or any of his plans of our future, onto me.