Sugar on the Edge (36 page)

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“I think you should tell him,” Brody says.

Anger threads through me, and I hope the baby can’t feel the terrible vibes coursing through me right now. Turning on Brody, I practically spit at him, “Why in the fuck would you think he even wants to know the sex of the baby? He made it pretty clear he doesn’t want me… I mean her.”

“Because he loves you, and I guarantee you that he loves her. He’s just fucked up in the head. I mean… look at what he went through with his little boy.”

I instantly regret ever telling Brody the full truth about Gavin’s past. It was in my denial phase, because I was trying to come up with every justification for Gavin’s abandonment. Now Brody dares to throw that in my face.

“He doesn’t love me or the little peanut,” I mutter. We started calling my baby “peanut” from the start, and now the nickname has stuck. That may potentially be her nickname for the rest of her life.

“I bet he loves both of you,” Brody says firmly. “And you love him.”

“No, I hate him. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him,” I say, stomping my foot on the ground with each proclamation.

“I’m pretty sure you love him.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I hate him.”

Brody sighs and it sounds long-suffering. “Do you love the peanut?”

I give him a quick glance, just long enough to give him an exasperated glare. “Of course I love her. Stupid question.”

“Then you love Gavin… at least a part of him. Because that baby is part Gavin.”

Spinning on Brody, I poke him in the chest. “What the hell is your problem? You spent weeks cursing Gavin’s name with me, threatening to put him six feet under if he showed his face around here again. Now, all of a sudden, you’re his champion?”

Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, Brody says, “I guess I just feel for the guy a little… knowing his history and all. I’m sure he was terrified. Terrified of having another child and losing it. It’s scary as shit having the responsibility of someone’s tiny life in your hands. And he has more reason to be terrified than any of us do.”

Turning away, I sneer. “What could you possibly know about it, Brody? Seriously… what could you possibly know?”

“I know a little something about it,” he says smugly, and the hairs rise up on the back of my neck.

My head swivels slowly to him, my mouth hanging open. “Are you… is Alyssa…?”

“Pregnant? That she is,” he says with a big grin. “But we haven’t told anyone else yet so keep your trap shut.”

“Oh my God,” I shriek and launch myself into his arms. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. That’s wonderful. Oh my God. I’m so happy. We’re going to have babies together. And you’ll have a little boy, and they’ll be sweet on each other… or maybe we should just betroth them. What do you think?”

“I think you’re hilarious,” he says as he gives me a last squeeze and sets me away from him. “But to get back to the point I was making… I think there’s a good chance that Gavin was just terrified out of his mind and didn’t know what to do. I think there’s an equally good chance that he probably knows he fucked up, but has no clue how to fix it. I think you should contact him.”

“So, I should be the bigger person is what you’re saying?” I ask with some derision in my voice.

“I’m saying, Savannah, that you’re the type of woman that will always be the bigger person. It’s who you are, and I also know your heart… it’s a forgiving heart. It’s also a loving heart. You can tell me all you want that you hate him, but we both know it isn’t true. Give him a pass on this one. Open the door and see if he’ll walk back in.”

Shaking my head, wanting to deny what he’s saying, I still don’t understand Brody’s complete empathy with Gavin. “I don’t get you, Brody. I figured you’d be the last person that would want to see him back in my life. You threatened to kill him so many times.”

“Oh, when he comes back… and I’m betting he does, I’m going to beat the shit out of him for hurting you. Make no mistake about that. But then I’ll forgive him, same as you.”

I now mentally shake my head again so Brody doesn’t see my outright denial, that I’m not willing to accept what he’s saying. Not willing to accept what he’s suggesting I do. Contacting Gavin is going to open me up to a potential world of hurt, because no matter what Brody thinks, I personally think Gavin is done with this baby and me. He has too much shit to overcome, and I’m not sure he has an ounce of hero-like qualities in him to admit his wrong and take the risk for something wonderful.

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” I say, surprised at how glum my voice sounds and how sad I feel inside. “I told you… I seriously don’t know how to contact him.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I know how,” Brody says with a smirk.

“What do you mean?” I ask carefully, refusing to have even a moment’s excitement over the prospect that maybe… just maybe, I could have a second crack at happiness with Gavin.

“He’s doing a book signing in New York this weekend. You need to go see him.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” I say, backing away with my hands held before me.

“You could.”

“I can’t.”

“You can. You will.”

Rubbing my knuckles over my breastbone to assuage the stab of pain I’m feeling there, the most I’ll give Brody at this time is, “I’ll think about it.”

“What’s your favorite memory of Charlie?” I asked Gavin as we lay in bed together one night before we fell asleep. It had become routine… Gavin would make love to me, or fuck me, depending on his mood and mine, and then we’d lay in the dark and talk.

Sometimes our talks were easy and lighthearted. Sometimes they were deep. I learned early on that Gavin never shied away from talking about Charlie with me, and I used every opportunity I could to learn more about his little boy that only had two short years on this earth. Because every detail I learned about Charlie let me understand the real Gavin Cooke all that much more.

Gavin chuckled as he stroked my shoulder. “That’s an easy one. It was the first time he giggled. I was holding him on my lap… I think he was about three months old. His legs were so strong, and he liked to try to stand up as much as possible with me holding him. He was facing me, with his little fist in his mouth, and I was making some type of goofy noise and funny face, or something like that. And this little giggle just burst out of his mouth. I was so shocked… I hadn’t heard anything like that before. Can you believe it? I’d never heard a baby laugh. It was miraculous. It was hilarious. It made me laugh, and when I laughed… he giggled again. Then I laughed, then he laughed, and we just sat there and laughed at each other.”

“Sounds like the best memory ever,” I told him with a smile on my face that he couldn’t see in the dark.

“Want to know what my best memory is of you?” he asked.

“Lay it on me,” I told him.

“My best memory is of right now… of you asking me about Charlie, and me remembering his laugh. Yes, my best memory is of sharing that special moment with my boy, with you.”

I sighed long and deep, and my heart cried with joy.

Setting my cup of tea aside, I get up from the couch and wipe the tears that are streaming down my face. I’ve been sitting here all evening, trying to decide what to do.

Brody’s words hammering at me…

He has more reason to be terrified than any of us do.

Then you love Gavin… at least a part of him.

Because he loves you, and I guarantee you that he loves her.

I have no clue if Brody’s wisdom knows what the hell it’s really talking about. But I know one thing that he is absolutely correct about. I do still love Gavin and because of that, I do need to reach out and give him a chance to explain himself.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, I open up my laptop and search out the cost of a flight to New York this weekend.

Glancing down at my watch, I mutter a curse when I see how slowly time is moving by. Lindie nudges me in the ribs, leans over, and hisses at me, “Try to act like you’re enjoying this. Try to act like you’re happy to see your fans.”

Looking up at the next woman in line, I plaster a smile on my face as she shoves my book at me. “Mr. Cooke… it’s an honor to meet you. I loved
Killing the Tides
so much. It’s my favorite book of all time. I’ve read it seven times already, and oh my God… I can’t believe I’m standing here talking to you.”

I struggle to keep my smile in place, which has become a fucking chore I detest lately, and say, “That’s very kind, love. Who should I sign this to?”

“Marie… sign it
To Marie, With Love
, if you don’t mind,” she gushes. “My friends will die when they see it. Oh, and can I get my picture with you?”

I hastily make out the inscription and stand up from my chair. I move around the side of the table and Marie plasters herself to me while Lindie takes our picture with the woman’s phone.

“You weren’t smiling,” Lindie growls at me, so I put back on my plastic pose of flashing teeth and she snaps another photo.

“Perfect,” Lindie says, and the woman squeezes the air from my lungs with a vicious hug.

“Thank you, Mr. Cooke. Thank you so much. You’re amazing. Just the nicest man. Thank you so much.”

Yeah, I’m a fucking really nice man. I’m so amazing that I left the woman I love, who is pregnant with my child. I left her behind and stuck my head in the sand for weeks, and now that my head is free, I don’t know what the fuck to do.

Pain wracks my chest when I think of Savannah… all alone, pregnant, scared. I ache to talk to her… to touch her. I’m going crazy with wonder… how is she doing? How is the baby? And yet, I’m too fucking scared to even pick up the phone to call her.

There hasn’t been one day that has passed since I walked out of my home… walked away from Savannah, that I didn’t regret my actions. At first, my deepest regret was in hurting her. It was something I didn’t think I had the power within me to do. Yet, I let my anger drive my actions. I let my anger drive my car all the way to the airport, where I boarded a plane for London. I cursed at Savannah in my head so many times for getting pregnant, even though I know it was an accident. I cursed her for making me fall in love with her, and then doing something so stupid as to ruin it all.

Then I turned the anger inward and castigated myself for my selfish actions and shortsighted vision. As the weeks rolled by, there wasn’t a day that didn’t dawn where I picked up my phone to call her several times. I chickened out, time and again, because I knew there was ultimately a point where Savannah would grow to hate me, and there would be no point in trying to work around that.