Chapter 57Rayne

W

hen I wake up, everyone’s gone. Except one.

Gage is sitting by my bed. He’s pulled up the teal arm chair and is leaning forward, elbows on knees, and head in his hands. I want to hate him, but I can’t. It goes against every cellular-level craving in my body. He’s mine and no one else’s, and while he’s sitting here alone, it’s easy to pretend he always will be. There are things we need to discuss. I’m not stupid, but I need this moment to last just a little longer because I’m not ready to look in his blue eyes and know we don’t have a tomorrow. I love him. For me, there’s no one else.

He lifts his head, staring back at me. His eyes hollow, haunted. “Hey you.”

I love you, I love you, I love you. Please don’t leave me. The pleadings crowd my head, but I squelch them. “Hey yourself. What happened?”

“Charlotte was arrested. The entire confession was on the bear’s memory drive. You’re safe.”

I’m safe because of him. Here he is, involved with someone else and still saving me. We’re meant to be together, and I’m sure of it now more than ever. But how do you tell someone you love them, that they’re the one, when they’re with someone else? When does it quit being about them and start being about you? Is it right to tell the truth or is it selfish? He’s given me everything, including my son, and I can’t take away his chance at happiness.

As always, I rely on smartass responses to hide the pain. “Yeah? Well, thank God for that bear then.”

“Didn’t look too thankful in the first part of the video. I recall something like you flipping it off?” He bites his lower lip and arches his eyebrows.

Caught in the act. No one was ever supposed to see that. “I can neither confirm nor deny.” Gage narrows his eyes and stifles a laugh. “Fine, I did. Blame it on hormones.”

“Nah, you were like that way before the hormones,” he jokes but quickly turns serious, resting his hand on my stomach. “Doc patched you up. Gave you something to stop the hemorrhaging you caused when you tried to whip Charlotte’s ass. Still wishing I could’ve seen you do it.”

We’re dancing around the subject so much I’m dizzy. If I’m coming out of this alive, it’s time to get moving. “Why are you here Gage?”

He swallows hard and sits back in the chair. “Preston thought we should talk.”

So this isn’t of his own accord. Preston forced this. “You’re here for Preston?”

“Is that easier for you to believe? No. I’m here for you. I read this…” He pulls my note from his pocket and lays it on the bed. It’s folded inside out with the words “when he comes back to you” in black script against the white blanket. “Should we talk about it?”

I shrug my shoulders because speaking at this moment means crying, and I’m holding on to the promise I made myself that I’m staying strong for my baby. I can’t crumble.

“There’s so much I want to tell you, Rayne, like the places I went, the people I met.” One person in particular I’m sure. Hearing his love-at-first-sight epic romance isn’t topping my entertainment list. Thankfully, he’s not talking about her right now. “I found my grandparents, aunt, even cousins.”

He has family. Real roots, real people. Over the next 10 minutes, he tells me about his mother, Mary-Leighton Harrington, her childhood, her well-to-do family of strong military lineage and deep Southern traditions, and newfound aunt and several cousins close to his own age. For the first time, my black sheep has found his niche.

“You’ve met one of my cousins already,” he adds. “Taryn? She came with me yesterday.”

I’m not expecting it. Surely, I’m delusional. Maybe it’s a dream, and I’m about to wake up. But when I look, he’s still sitting there, nodding, as if he didn’t just drop a bomb. The feeling is somewhere between the rush of riding a roller coaster and having all five numbers on the Powerball ticket. “Taryn’s your cousin?” I say, laughing so hard I hardly choke it out.

He stares at me, eyes scrunched together in confusion. I’m stupid and embarrassed about being so hateful to this girl, refusing to call her by name, shooting her ugly glances. She’s probably told him to run for the hills by now, away from my crazy ass. His eyes are far-off as he puts it all together. Any minute now he’s going to laugh along with me. Only he doesn’t. He’s serious, which doesn’t happen often, as the pieces fall into place.

He moves to the bed, sitting so close now, his thigh grazes my side as he pulls my hand into his. “Rayne, did you think…?” He pauses, eyes searching mine, breath labored. “Did you believe…?” The tears well up in my eyes. Dammit. I don’t want to cry. “Baby… no. Never.” I’m short of breath now too, and the only thing running through my mind is that he called me “baby.”

He continues, “Dammit. I swore I wasn’t going to do this.”

“Do what?” I whisper, not taking my eyes off him.

He bites his upper lip between his teeth, pausing to consider his words. “Interfere. Say things I shouldn’t. But I can’t look you in the eye, I can’t be this close to you, and not be honest. I can’t keep hiding from you.” He cups my chin in one hand and slides the other up my arm, the tingles taking over, running up and down, round and round inside like a tornado. “Rayne, there’ll never be anyone else for me except you. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you that since you’re with Preston but…”

A burning circulates deep in my lungs, like fingers of fire weaving through my chest. My breathing adopts the rhythm of a drum beat, each thud reverberating in a wave. I blurt out the truth before my brain interferes, the words pouring out with lightning speed and no pauses in between. “I’m not with Preston. We lied. It was all pretend for the baby.”

Gage sits up, running his fingers through his hair, and then leans back in, grabbing my shoulders. “You and Preston aren’t together?”

“No. I can’t be with him when I still love you.” I reach up, grabbing his cheeks, and pull him nose to nose. “I can’t live without you anymore. I love you. Only you. Do you still love me?”

“Always.” He plunges his lips into mine, so hard it knocks me back into the pillows, but I don’t mind. I pull him closer, needing more, not wanting to let go. His mouth is hungry, eager, and mine, just as much so, crushes back into his. I want him bad, which is slightly ridiculous since I just had a head trauma followed by major abdominal surgery.

The doctor, and my general health, would frown on the things I want to do right now. But just wait. In six to eight weeks, this boy better get ready for the months I’ve held this all back. It’s like he’s unleashed a fire inside I didn’t even know was there anymore, and all I can imagine is us together again. Like we were in Edisto. Like I’ve replayed a million times since.

He tilts my head to the side, softly planting rows of kisses down my neck to the tender spot that always sends shivers coursing through me. He stops, holding his mouth against the curve of my neck, smiling.

“I’ve missed you. I haven’t stopped thinking of…” he begins.

A nurse interrupts us, opening the door wide and rolling in a bassinet. Gage quickly sits up, and I grab his hand, interlacing our fingers and squeezing. My baby. Our baby. I can already see a tuft of dark hair and a small fist extending up into the air. With the first coo, my heart skips, and I extend my arms out to take him. The nurse nestles him to me, soft and new-smelling, with my eyes and Gage’s nose. I’m not prepared for the surge of emotion that hits me. It’s a rush to finally hold the life you created. It’s mind-blowing seeing both of your features reflected back in harmony. It legitimizes your connection. I look up at Gage and find that holding our child instantly changes my feelings for him. They’re stronger, deeper, and hotter than ever before.

The nurse tells me Preston came in earlier to dress him for the occasion, and when I see the white smocked outfit I know why. In blue embroidery on the chest, it says “Daddy’s Boy.” This is Preston’s blessing, his green light to our family, but Gage can’t understand, because I haven’t told him the best part.

He blanches, his face ghostly white and he swallows hard, backing away from me. “I can’t do this, no matter how much I love you. Work it out with Preston. Y’all have a baby who needs his father…” Gage says, pushing himself off the bed. I grab his hand. It trembles in mine.

“Yes, he does need his father,” I say, our baby warm against my chest. “I need his father, too. Don’t leave us, Gage, because you’re his daddy.”