4 1/2 Years Later
The bed dips beside me, but I’m too exhausted to move. It feels like days since I’ve slept, and I have no plans to wake until the alarm blasts.
“Baby, I’m back.” Mathis kisses my cheek and presses close.
The heat of his naked body envelops me, but I have no energy to even act on our normal greeting when we’ve been apart for days.
“Mmmhmm.” I snuggle in, slipping deeper into dreamland.
“Claire, roll over and give me a kiss.”
“No, I’m sleeping.”
“How long have you been home?” he asks, not caring about my declaration of sleep.
“What time is it?”
“Late or early, depending on how you look at it.”
“Where am I?”
He rolls, taking me with him until I’m situated on his chest. “You don’t know where you are?”
“I have a few guesses,” I mumble. “Your condo, my apartment, the nurses’ lounge, or Bizzy’s guestroom.”
He stiffens, and his heart rate increases under my cheek. “We’re at my condo.”
“Okay.”
There’s nothing but silence, and I’m almost back to my dreamlike state when he speaks again. “This is bullshit. It’s not working.”
My sleepy, easy, dreamlike state evaporates, and my eyes fly open. My own heart rate spikes, thinking of the last time he said those words.
My apartment.
College graduation.
The night he broke my heart, leaving my dreams of having the perfect life in ashes.
So much has happened since then. I kept my word, never letting our past seep into our lives with our friends. At Bizzy and Shaw’s wedding, I had a moment of weakness that ended up with us in bed again and me leaving him with the ball in his court.
I didn’t wait long. One wild encounter with rabid opposing fans at a football game and a few hours in the drunk tank and everything changed. He took me home that night, and we’ve been together ever since. Families and friends were blended. Lives were happy, and I played into the scenario. But not once did Mathis and I ever discuss what happened all those years ago or any type of future.
He tried.
I deflected.
I wasn’t going back there. I was happy being the girlfriend, the best friend, and the intrusive nosy-body that was in everyone’s business.
We’ve been through it all—weddings, break-ups, reunions. The loss of patients that hit us hard, and the rejoicing of children getting the news of remission. Holidays, births, near-deaths… all of it.
It was easy to be with Mathis because it was right. I didn’t fight him when he swept me back off my feet over a year ago. I went with it. He expected a fight, but he wasn’t getting one. I let him think the carefree Claire was okay with all that happened before. It was simple, it was euphoric, but in the back of my mind, I always remembered how he sliced me open, and I was prepared for it to happen again.
Now, it’s happening. ‘It’s not working’.
I move to slide off of him, knowing my bag is never unpacked, and I can make a clean escape. I’m halfway to the edge of the bed when he hauls me fully on top of his body.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to go home.”
There’s a rumbling low in his throat, and his arms clasp tighter around me. “No, you aren’t.”
“You just said it’s not working. I’m going home.”
“Fucking shit, I meant this double occupancy thing isn’t working. We need to talk about it. Our schedules are sporadic. Two places are too much. We need to have a place together.”
It’s my turn to tense. My heart rate is now pulsing so hard, it’s rushing in my ears. No, no, no…
This is not how it happens with the Bennett brothers.
No ‘I love you’.
No ‘We’re moving in together’.
No ‘You’re mine forever’.
He said, “We need to have a place together.” Like it’s a convenience.
“Mathis, you’ve worked for almost three days straight. Let’s discuss this later.”
“We’re talking about it now.”
I push away from him forcefully, my head no longer clouded by sleep but in flight mode. Luckily, I can grab my purse from his dresser, slide my feet into flip-flops, yank up my bag, and run before he can get his pajama bottoms on.
I bolt from his room, his condo, and jump into my car, speeding away.
He’ll come to my apartment, so I go to a place he can’t find me. A condo my parents rarely use. It’s safe, it’s quiet, and he has no idea where it is.
The halls of the pediatric oncology wing are buzzing with excitement as families pile in waiting. I go to the nurses’ lounge knowing Bizzy will be there. When I walk in, she’s not alone. Almost the whole staff, on-shift and off, are in the room, crowded around. Shaw stands close to Bizzy, holding their six-month-old daughter, Brinley, who is decked out in teal and orange head-to-toe. She looks more precious than ever, and I immediately swoop in and steal her from him.
She lets out a giggle and covers my nose with a slobbery kiss, then head-plants into my neck.
“I know, sweet girl, I missed you, too.”
“You were at my house yesterday,” Shaw mumbles grumpily.
“She knows her Aunt Claire is her favorite person in the world.”
Shaw narrows his eyes, reaching for Brinley, but I sidestep to Bizzy. They exchange a look that puts me on edge because it’s been happening a lot lately. At first, I thought it was because Shaw is so possessive he wants his daughter and his wife at his side at all times, but lately, it’s more.
Not once do I consider Mathis has called him because it’s not his style.
“Calm down, caveman, you can have her back, but I’m stealing your wife.” I place the baby back in his waiting hands and link my arm through Bizzy’s, dragging her into the women’s room.
She reaches into her oversized mom bag and hands me the jersey Nicky ordered. I slide it over my head and dance in a circle, pumping my arms in the air. “This is PHAT! Do you know how much money I’ll get for this on eBay?”
“Claire!”
“Joking! I’d never sell my one-of-a-kind, Super Bowl Champions, Nick Bennett jersey.” I laugh in her face.
“I wouldn’t put it past you.” She giggles, pinning a gold childhood cancer ribbon on the right side of my chest.
“When are Six and Prego getting here?”
Sexy Six is Nick’s nickname. It was thrown around in college and has stuck throughout his NFL career. His wife, Grace, is newly pregnant. They announced their news to the family last week after the Super Bowl win, and the celebration was probably greater than the actual win.
“I don’t think she likes the nickname.”
“She loves it. She told me she loves it, and she was glowing.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Bizzy sighs dreamily, and I tense.
“Holy shit, you’re not pregnant again, are you?”
She stumbles back, her face full of shock. “Hell no! We have a toddler potty training, a practically newborn baby, and our house is a circus. No way!”
Shaw and Bizzy have shared custody of Shaw’s son, Brayden, who you’d never know isn’t Bizzy’s own flesh and blood. He was a surprise but is so much a part of all of us, we simply ignore the fact his mother is a raging bitch.
I stare at her long enough to know she’s telling the truth and then narrow my eyes. “Don’t hide it from me again, Biz. You only get one pass at keeping your pregnancy from your best friend.”
I’m referring to the fact that she and Shaw hid her pregnancy for almost thirteen weeks with Brinley because of her fear of complications from her childhood cancer. When it was announced, I was the only one of our crew who was surprised. It was a rough time, since Nick and Grace had broken up and Bizzy was trying to keep things quiet, but in the end, it hurt that she didn’t share.
I understood her reasoning, but after all we’d been through, she only got one time.
“Who knows, maybe we can be pregnant together.”
It’s my turn to be shocked. “I’m not having a baby any time soon.”
“But you and Mathis are finally together. It’s moving forward, isn’t it?”
“Mathis and I are fun. We mesh well together. We’re in each other’s lives because of the environment. But, after last night, I think we’re over.”
“WHAT?!?” she screeches so loud, signaling that this is no longer a rational conversation.
There’s a knock at the door, and Grace pokes her head through, her violet eyes wide, darting between us. “Is it safe to come in?”
“Sure, Prego, come in. Are we almost ready?”
She nods, eyeing me hesitantly. “We’re all here. The shirts are ready to be passed out to the kids, and the players are bouncing on their feet to get this party started. Shaw and Nick sent me to get you two.”
“Let’s roll.” I make a move, but Bizzy grabs my arm, her eyes glistening.
“This conversation is not done.”
“Yes, Bizzy, it is. Not everyone has the happy ending you and Grace have. Live with it.”
I brush her off, paste a smile on my face, and leave the room, ready to make the kids on my floor the happiest they’ve been in a long time.