The Debra Dilemma (The Lone Stars Book 4) (10 page)

His heart fluttered in his chest and he opened another button at his throat. She’d given their little boy up for adoption. Adoption. He felt sick, but mentally tried to pull his thoughts together. Knowing Debra, she would have chosen only the best family for him. And she’d had to go it alone. She’d had to make that decision alone. He’d left her alone and pregnant. She’d gone through everything alone.

Black dots danced at the edge of his vision and his legs felt heavy. His whole body felt like an anchor being pulled into the medium brown depths of the wood floor.

“Okay, let’s get you to the sofa.” Debra’s arm came around his waist as the room spun around him. This wasn’t right. She’d had an abortion. This wasn’t right.

She shouldered his weight all of the way to the sofa and helped him down onto it.

Something clicked in his brain. “AJ is August John. You named him after both of my grandfathers.”

Roughly she shoved his head down between his knees. “Less talking and more breathing.”

From his vantage point, he got a great look at her pink glittery toenails. “You didn’t have an abortion?”

“No.” Her voice was level.

“You father told me that you had.” The light-headedness was passing so slowly he leaned back. He closed his eyes and rested back against the couch.

“You believed him? Why would you do that?” Debra’s voice said that was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard.

He was beginning to believe that she was right. He’d allowed her father to strong arm him into a future he hadn’t wanted. No, he’d made the decision to keep the money. That was on him. The very least that he could do for Debra was to take responsibility for his actions. For that matter, he needed to take responsibility for his actions and all of the actions that had resulted from his actions. Hell, right now, he was prepared to take responsibility for global warming and the end of
American Idol
if she’d just give him a chance.

Slowly he opened his eyes. Her hazel ones showed more curiosity than concern. She’d changed into jeans and a white T-shirt. She’d left a couple of the sparkly barrettes in her hair and the artsy look suited her. He wanted to pull her onto his lap and hold her tight.

He owed her the truth, nothing less. “I believed it because I wanted to think that I hadn’t completely ruined your life.”

He felt like a coward, and it killed him to know that she saw him as one too.

Her eyes narrowed like she didn’t quite buy his explanation.

“No, really. I wanted the best for you and I wasn’t it.” The jury was still out as to whether he was any better for her now.

She rolled her eyes. “Why do men keep trying to tell me what’s best for me? I’m a damned fine judge of character all on my own.”

What the hell did that mean? Back then he’d known that she would have given up every thing for him, so he’d made the choice for her.

“What…?” His voice cracked so he cleared his throat. “What happened to AJ? Did you find him a good home?”

Was it possible for him to see his son? It’s not like he’d given up custody, then again, he might as well have.

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“AJ. I take it you were able to find a good home for him.” When Debra loved, she loved with her whole heart. In order for her to have given him up, she would have insisted on the best home.

The suspicion in her eyes changed to a hurt so vast that he took her hand. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong because she was letting him touch her.

“He died.” Her voice was a croaky whisper like the words were coming from a wound so deep that they got stuck in her throat coming out.

“Died? I don’t understand.” He looked around for signs of a little boy. “Recently?”

The pain on her face intensified and then she wiped her face of any emotion. It was like watching someone erase a whiteboard.

“He died one minute after he was born.” Her voice was hollow. It didn’t even sound like her.

Her words registered. He had been born in December so she’d carried him to term and then she’d given birth and he’d died. Knowing Debra, she would have blamed herself. His eyes went to hers. She still did. More than anything, he wanted to pull her into a hug and hold her until she understood that it wasn’t her fault, but he’d given up that right when he’d taken her father’s money.

“You should have told me.” His looked down at his hand holding hers. It was a start.

She wriggled out of his grip and her face turned hard. “You made your choice when you took a million dollars from my father.”

Did it matter than he’d regretted it every second of every day since he’d agreed to the deal? “I deserve every thing that you’ve done to me and more.”

He wanted to shoulder her pain and beg for forgiveness, but he didn’t have the right and she wouldn’t have listened anyway.

“I agree and I can’t believe that I let you into my home. I must have lost my mind.” She stood and pointed to the door. Her eyes didn’t mist over with tears and her voice was steady.

This was the hard version of Debra—the one he’d created—so he stood too and went to the door.

She didn’t follow him, only watched with hard eyes.

With his hand on the knob, he turned around and faced her. “Thank you for telling me about him. I know that I don’t have the right to ask you for anything, but I’m going to ask anyway.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.” She looked as tired and emotionally spent as he felt.

“I want you to forgive yourself. I am to blame. The fault is mine. You were an innocent victim in all of this and I took advantage of you. If I’d followed my heart instead of my head, we could have grieved together. I’m sorry for that…for a lot of things. Please stop punishing yourself. Debra, you have bled enough. Hurt me all you want, but stop blaming yourself.” Words would never make things better, but they needed saying.

The look on her face was nothing short of stunned.

He turned away, opened the door, walked out into the hall, and closed the door behind him.

Every thing he wanted was on the other side of that door, but he’d hurt her so much that a life with her seemed impossible.

Tears stung his eyes and burned the inside of his nose. They’d made a child together and she’d loved it enough to carry it to term, only to have her heart cut out when their little boy died. His throat nearly closed up with grief for a tiny baby that he’d wished he’d known. This mountain of pain for the son he never knew existed until twenty minutes ago made him want to curl up in a ball right here on the hall floor and squeal like a little baby. And hers must be a thousand times worse. She’d been there…for over a decade she’d lived in agony, while he was nothing more than a bystander.

Slowly, like a man twice his age, he put one foot in front of the other until he made it to the elevator. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, like a bad dream. He punched the up arrow. The doors rolled closed. The elevator rose to the penthouse. He shoved his key into the slot next to the button and turned. The doors opened. He walked out. The thirty-second process took years.

His mistakes had cost Debra so much more than he’d ever imagined. Were there enough “I’m sorrys’” in the world to make up for it? How did he begin putting together the pieces of their lives? If he even could?

She deserved so much better than him, but he loved her. They’d both been through a lot. Weren’t they due a happy ending? His fingers slid into his pocket and grasped the ring.

When he set his mind to something, he always got it. But Debra was different. When it came to her, his confidence level was less than one percent.

From now on, it was all about Debra. Her happiness was his number one concern. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to give her a happily everafter, even if it meant letting her go. She was his future, but if being around him made her sad, he’d do the right thing—for the second time in his life.

For the first time in her life, Debra phoned a friend. Since she’d never really had a phone-able girlfriend it would have been the obvious choice for most of womankind, but it took her fifteen minutes to work up the courage.

She didn’t blame herself for AJ, did she? Well, it was her fault.

Grace answered on the first ring. “Summer just texted that Warren was at your house. Spill sister.”

Debra opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her wobbly legs collapsed and she used the closed front door to slide down to the floor. “He knows about AJ.”

“I’m at Whole Foods right now. I can be at your condo in ten minutes.” There was some shuffling on Grace’s end of the phone.

It made her smile that Grace would rush over here. She should have called Sweet Louise, but she was in class right now and Summer was dealing with a sick husband, so she’d turned to Grace. She had three women to turn to now—,it was nice.

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” Debra wiped at the tears running down her face. “It’s just…well…you know….do you think I blame myself for AJ’s death?”

Why was she asking this? It was her fault. If she’d been a better person then God wouldn’t have taken away her little boy. It was as plain as day.

“Yes.” Grace fiddled with something and then a car door opened and closed. “I’m on my way. And yes, you do blame yourself. In some way you believe that you caused AJ’s death. You seem to think that you weren’t worthy of motherhood so God stepped in and took away your little boy. That simply isn’t true. Life isn’t a soap opera where only the righteous are blessed with children. This is the real world. Shit happens and bad things happen to good people. You’re good people. Don’t get confused.”

“But I.…” She was going to say deserved it, but did anyone deserve to lose a child? For so long, she’d hated herself. Now, she wasn’t sure what it was like to walk in a world that didn’t revolve around what was wrong with her. “Warren told me that I should stop blaming myself and to blame him. That doesn’t make much sense to me.”

Grace laughed. “He’s trying to save you from yourself. It’s stupid, but heroic.”

Warren wanted to save her? That was new. No one had ever wanted to save her mainly because they all knew that she wasn’t worth saving. But Warren seemed to think she was…so maybe….

“Yeah, I don’t think he wants to save me so much as allay some of his guilt.” That he felt guilt at all was more than she’d thought him capable of. Maybe he did want to save her.

“Keep telling yourself that, little sister, if it helps you sleep at night.” Grace’s voice held a grin. “Only men who care feel guilt, and only men in love feel really guilty. On a scale of one to ten, ten being the highest, how would you rate his level of guilt?”

A fifteen. Her heart almost fell out of her chest. Her mind reeled back and forth. Was it possible that he still had feelings for her? No, that was ridiculous. Too much sewage under the bridge. But what if…what if he
did
still feel something for her? Something that wasn’t hate, that is. Did it matter? And for that matter, did she have feelings for him?

“You’re funny, and you’re a hopeless romantic. There is nothing between me and Warren.” She picked at a stray thread on the hem of her T-shirt.

“Uh huh, yeah…okay…whatever you say.” Grace must have flicked on the blinker because Debra could hear the click-clack of the turn signal. “I just turned into your parking lot. Why don’t you follow me to my house and have dinner with us? I’m making Chicken Parmesan, and Laney and Devon are coming over. Summer mentioned that you don’t need to be at work until nine so you have plenty of time.”

Debra winced. “Don’t you think that would be weird?”

Considering that she’d slept with both Devon and Chord, the chances for weird were really high.

“Maybe…okay sure, yes, it will be weird for about a minute and a half, but then it’ll will be over and the weirdness will be gone. You have to face them sometime. You’re my close friend, which means that I’m going to harass you into having dinner with us at least once a week, so you might as well get over the weirdness now.” Grace had a way of boiling complicated things down into simple parts. That was a rare gift.

“Do you ever take no for an answer?” Debra smiled as she shook her head. After so many years of loneliness, she was suddenly surrounded by mother hens, and she had to admit that it was nice. Now, she had people who loved and watched out for her. It was the first time in a long time that she didn’t feel alone.

“No.” Grace laughed. “I always get my way. I’m not much of a my-way-or-the-highway kind of person because in my world, there isn’t a highway.”

“I guess I can come. My nerves are already on edge, what’s a little more humiliation?” She was right. It was best to get it over with.

“It won’t be that bad.” Grace said over the honking of a horn in the background. “Besides, Chord and Devon know that you’re our friend, so stepping out of line will cost them sex, companionship, good food, and a host of other things that make their lives pleasant.”

“Damn, y’all are like the mafia, only sneakier and better dressed.” This girlfriend thing really was starting to feel good.

“You have no idea. We fight like girls and there’s not a man in the world who can stand up to us.” Grace sounded proud to be a woman.

It beat the alternative, which came with a penis and little to no common sense.

“Do you normally work nights?” Grace asked.

“No and yes. Usually I work days, but I fill in when needed and we all work overtime during the holidays.” Most weeks she worked sixty hours and not only because there was work to be done, but because she didn’t want to go home to a lonely house.

“I bet the holidays are your busiest time.” Grace sounded sad. “I hate that for you and for all of the people who walk through Safe Place’s door.”

At work, Debra only met people when they were at their most vulnerable. Yes, it was sad, but helping others gave her a purpose.

“Let me grab some shoes and I’ll be right down.” Debra switched the phone to her other hand and used her free hand to brace herself against the door.

“See you in a few. Bye.” Grace hung up.

Debra shoved her phone in her back pocket. She stood and walked to the bathroom, found a pair of rhinestone studded flip-flops, grabbed her purse and headed out the door.