Hotshot (34 page)

“What do you suggest?”

“Call me tomorrow after your appointment. Let’s see where your feelings are at that time. Then we can try to really work through this.”

“What about Bizzy?”

“She’s one of the biggest balls you’re juggling here. I personally can’t believe she’s stuck around for all this. Don’t get me wrong, but even the strongest bond between you two is about to be tested. I love her like my own, you know this, so I have a stake in her happiness as well. To be honest, I’m not sure how she can be happy right now. She’s twenty-four years old, and she’s faced with a lifetime of being reminded of your mistakes.”

“Jesus, Mom. You’re cutting me deep here.”

“I’m sorry, Crenshaw, but it’s the truth. She has her whole life ahead of her. She’s so full of love and goodness. You’re asking her to join you in raising a child that isn’t hers by a woman who hates her. Will she ever truly be okay with this?”

“Her love and goodness is exactly why I need her. She’s the most precious thing in my life.”

“That’s about to change.”

“I want to marry her. I’m going to ask her soon, just waiting for the right time.”

“Honey, I hate to be crass and insensitive, but you gave up what you wanted the night you decided to have sex with Sasha Crane.”

“Mr. Bennett, we’re here.” The driver pulls me out of my thoughts. “I was told to wait for you.”

“Yes, thanks.” I open the door and step out. Even in November, the heat in Miami is still stifling. Beads of sweat form on my head and roll down my back.

I instantly miss the cooler weather I left behind in Charlotte.

That’s not the only thing I miss.

The waiting room is almost empty when I walk in. The receptionist recognizes me and gestures to the side door. She gives me a sweet smile that I can barely return as I follow her down the hallway. When we get to the exam room, she knocks then opens, waving me in.

Sasha lays on the table in a position I’m now used to seeing. Her mom is seated next to the bed, excitement rolling off her.

“You made it. I was sure you’d come in earlier today.” Sasha doesn’t hide her frustration.

“Told you I had to reschedule some meetings,” I answer blandly, not taking her bait.

“I had meetings, too, Ren. You’re not the only one with a job. This is important.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are,” Ann says icily, pinning me with a disapproving glare. “You made it barely in time.”

The sonographer walks in behind me, greeting everyone cheerily. If she feels the chill in the air, she does a good job of ignoring it as she explains the process, while prepping Sasha’s stomach. We’ve done this before, so nothing is new, but I hang on her words, so I can avoid looking at Sasha and Ann.

“Just to confirm, how many weeks are you?” she asks Sasha.

“Around twenty-three. We’ve been trying to determine the sex for the last six weeks.”

“Have there been any changes?”

Sasha goes on to explain what she told me on the phone about the baby moving the entire night and the feeling that she was carrying differently.

She starts with taking measurements, repeating what’s she seeing, explaining it all looks good.

My eyes are glued to the screen, watching her point out the visible body parts that are squirming.

Sasha and her mom actively participate in a conversation about everything on the screen.

When the sonographer moves the wand and presses on Sasha’s stomach, the baby turns.

My throat closes, and my heart drops to the floor.

Even without medical knowledge, I can tell.

It’s a boy. I’m having a son.

I should have listened closer to my mom and Bizzy. I should have believed them harder, trusted them more.

Because, they were right.

In this instant, everything changes.

Bizzy

It’s happened. I should have been prepared, protected my heart a little more. It was only a matter of time.

My emotions are all over the place, blaming Sasha for being manipulative and calculating, blaming Shaw for tying my heart to his and leaving me to wonder.

But the truth is the blame is mine. I should have ran the second I discovered Sasha was having Shaw’s baby. Love be damned. I KNEW nothing good would come out of this. How could I ever compete with a baby?

You can’t! You stupid fool! You never stood a chance.

I curl onto my side and wrap my comforter around me, making sure my phone is within reach in case he calls… which I know he won’t. Today, he’s with Sasha and her family, showing them his condo then shopping for baby furniture for her nursery.

The day he walked away to get on that plane replays in my mind for the millionth time. I should have held tighter, begged him to stay. Done anything to keep him with me. Because he would have. Four weeks ago, he would have done anything for me, but I pushed him to go, encouraging him to get excited. I believed he’d come back to me.

He didn’t.

He missed my birthday.

He missed Thanksgiving.

He missed my department Christmas party.

I stare at the television, not paying attention to the game, but grateful for the noise. The announcer mentions the name Darren Jackson a few times, which hooks my interest and I do my best to catch up.

My bedroom door creaks open, and I think about closing my eyes to pretend I’m asleep but Claire won’t believe it. She’s worried about me. So is my family. Everyone is waiting for me to crack open, but I can’t.

My heart is shattered, but my tear ducts have finally dried up. After months of crying at the drop of a pin, I’ve used up all the tears.

After a full minute of nothing, I finally acknowledge her. “You don’t have to stand in the doorway. You can crawl in and watch football with me.”

“Seven weeks away… seven weeks is all it took for you to turn on me? How could you?” Nicky’s voice booms through the room, and I scream, bolting up, and almost falling off my bed.

“Nicky!”

“Darren Jackson, Biz? Really? You wound me.” He puts his hand on his chest, stumbling back dramatically.

I scramble out of the mess of sheets and leap over my bed. He catches me easily, curling me in his arms. He sways us back and forth, and I wait for the avalanche of emotions to start, but they don’t. We stay like this for several minutes until I find my voice.

“What are you doing here?”

“Good to see you, too.” He chuckles in my ear.

“I’m sorry, that was rude. I’m in shock.”

“We’ve never gone this long apart. Even when I went to summer football camp in college, it was only five weeks. Not to mention, your bullshit text.”

“It wasn’t bullshit. It’s the truth.”

“You’re coming home for Christmas, Bizzy.”

I step back, taking his hand and leading him into the living room. We sit on the sofa, and I lay my head on his shoulder.

“It’s so good to see you.” I avoid the subject of Christmas.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at me.”

I raise my head and try my best not to show any emotions. I fail.

“How are you? Don’t think about lying to me.”

“I’m okay…” I start to give him the same response I’ve given my mom every time she calls. But it won’t work.

“That’s a lie. I’m not okay. I’m trying to understand, but my heart is broken. I’m not sure there’s a way to get over this hump. There doesn’t seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve gone through so many scenarios in my head, and none of them turn out with a happy ending for me. The thing is, I was prepared for this. That’s one reason I came to Charlotte, to give him space and force him to come to terms with everything. He was always so worried about me. I was doing great, too. Then he barged in, making more promises. I let myself believe them. The day he got on that plane was the first step in his new life. He doesn’t even seem like the same Shaw.”

“I have to believe he’s the same person under this cloud of unknowns.”

“No, he’s not. He’s a different person. It’s in his voice. It’s the baby. Him having a son has given him a new perspective. I understand it, but my heart is having a hard time caching up.”

“You need to talk to him.”

“Nicky, I understand he’s your brother, but you really suck at the jilted girlfriend talk. You should take pointers from Claire. She’s an excellent teacher.”

I try to make a joke, but it falls flat.

“Skipping coming home at Christmas isn’t going to make you feel any better, Bizzy. It’s only going to fuck with you more. You need to see him face to face, let him explain.”

I scoot away and try to stop the explosion of betrayal boiling inside of me. “Do you know anything about what’s happening? Do you know he’s basically blown me off with a few texts and two-minute phone calls? I call and it goes to voicemail, then I’ll get a text hours later saying he’s busy. But in those few precious minutes I do get to talk to him, I find out he has plans with Sasha. If he’s not at work, it seems like he’s with her. Our entire relationship has deteriorated to minutes of conversation that revolve around a woman I hate.”

“He’s not blowing you off.”

“Nicky! If you stick up for him one more time, I’ll kick your ass!”

He searches my face for a minute and starts to laugh—loud, roaring laughter that makes me want to leap across the couch and tackle him.

“Stop laughing at me!”

“I can’t help it! You’re hilarious.”

“I am not. I am pissed!”

“GOOD! It’s time you get pissed! This martyr act has been exhausting to watch! Jesus, for months we’ve watched you fall into this little world and hated every second of it. Get pissed! It’s time!”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“I mean, our Bizzy is a spitfire! That woman I found in the bed minutes ago is not you! That’s a woman admitting to defeat, sinking into a pit of depression without researching the facts. You ASSUME he’s always with Sasha, but he’s doing shit out of obligation to his son.”

“Thank fucking God you finally arrived!” Claire comes in, slamming the door behind her. “It’s about time!”

“I got here as soon as possible.” He gets up to greet her.

“What’s going on here?”

“In the last few weeks, I’ve done everything in the best friend’s handbook to get you out of your funk. I knew it was out of my control when you volunteered to work on Christmas. That’s your very favorite holiday. You LOVE being at home on Christmas. So I called in reinforcements.” She jerks her head at Nicky.

“You’re a bitch.”

“Harsh, considering you have color in your cheeks for the first time in forever.”

“She may have color in her cheeks, but when’s the last time she ate? Or showered?” Nicky talks over me to Claire.

“She rarely eats, but I think she may have showered yesterday morning before her shift.”

“Could have fooled me. Her room stinks. When’s the cleaning service coming back?”

“In two days, but that’s not why her room stinks.”

“Hello!” I wave my hands wildly in the air. “I’m right here. Stop talking about me like I’m invisible.”

“Why does your room stink?” Nicky crosses his arms and gives me a pointed look.

“Um… maybe I should wash my sheets.” I slide off the sofa and make a dash for my room.

Stupid of me to think I could outrun an NFL athlete. My feet are yanked out from under me, and I fly sideways as Nicky lifts me and I dangle at his side.

“What the ever-loving fuck are those?”

I close my eyes and swallow down the mortification. I know exactly what he’s referring to. This is really going to be embarrassing. “Um…an experiment?”

“Bizzy, don’t make me ask again.”

“Fine! They’re all the flowers Shaw sent me on my birthday,” I huff out and cover my flaming face.

“They’re all dead… and shit is growing on the vases.”

“Isn’t it fucking disgusting? They died the first week. You’d think a nurse would have more hygiene,” Claire tells him.

“Claire! You have easily made it to my shit-list today. Stop antagonizing me! I’ll get you back for this.”

“Bring it on.”

I twist, trying to get my feet on the ground, but Nicky hauls me up his side and spins. Then he stops and spins the other way.

“This is over as of now. Bizzy, you get your ass in the shower. Get ready. I’m taking you both to eat. While you’re cleaning up, I’m going to get rid of them, and we’re going to air out your room.”

I open my mouth to argue, but I can’t because when he sets me down, I get a head rush. He shoves me toward my bathroom, and I go willingly. When I close the door, I hear him telling Claire to help and her refusing, saying the smell of rotten flowers makes her sick.

He mumbles something, and she laughs, but then she gags loudly, and I can’t help but giggle.

She deserves it. Traitor.

I step under the hot shower spray and think about everything Nicky said to me. Obviously, he knows something about Shaw’s situation he’s not telling me. But that’s not what sticks; it’s his description of me. It bothers me because I’m not this girl. Sure, I’m sad, and my heart is broken, but it’s beyond time to end this pity party.