Authors: Christle Gray
Shaky legs caused her to stumble as she stood and slowly made her way back through her living room. A glance at the clock told her that David would know she wasn’t coming.
Good.
Maybe he would hurt as much as she. As she tried to walk forward, the world around her became blurry. Kristin touched her cheeks with her fingers and she found tears.
When had she started crying?
Kristin wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, finally reaching the bedroom. Her body shook as if she was freezing, but her face felt hot.
Maybe I’m getting sick
. She laughed, because that thought seemed too ridiculous to her, paired with what she had just gone through with Sophie. She laughed and laughed, the cackles gaining momentum and turning to cries of despair.
I must be cracking up
.
Her legs buckled and she crumpled to the floor, the cry of complete anguish unrecognizable as her own voice. It came from deep within her, carrying all the loneliness, fear and despair she had been living with all these years. Kristin tried to stand, but her legs gave way again. Hard, wracking sobs devastated her body, convulsing in the kind of anguish that might actually kill her. She cried for losing James, cried for losing the light in her soul, and last of all, she cried for her abandoned love for David.
~~~
David glanced at his watch again. It was almost five-thirty. He’d sent the car away once already, certain that Kristin was just running late. But as the minutes ticked by, the realization that she wasn’t coming seeped into him.
Kristin wanted to give up the fight. He brushed his hand through his hair.
Could David blame her, really? She had been so right. Everything had been difficult for them, more difficult than it should have been. Love shouldn’t hurt this bad. Kristin thought he had broken his promises to her. And he had begged her to trust him repeatedly. What was he going to do without her?
David rubbed his forehead. He picked up his luggage and walked through the door to his apartment building to wait by the curb for the car. The black sedan crawled up the street and came to a halt. The back passenger door opened.
Sophie stepped out, and the unexpected sight of her stunned him into silence. What was she doing here? Hadn’t they finished with their little game already?
Her cool blue eyes assessed him as she stood alongside him on the street. “Hello, love.”
He wasn’t up to a fight with her right now. He wasn’t up to anything except being miserable without Kristin. “What do you want, Sophie? I have to get to Wales. I’m late as it is.” A weary sadness sank down into the depths of his soul.
Sophie flashed one of her smiles, reached up, and freed her blond waves from the band that held them captive. She shook her head, letting the strands fall freely about her shoulders. “I know. I thought we could go together. Maybe use the time to talk.”
Her attempt at simple seduction didn’t make the slightest impact on him. Nothing but Kristin’s dark eyes penetrated his thoughts. Knots formed in David’s shoulders as he threw his luggage into the boot the driver had popped open. “I don’t have anything to talk to you about.”
He slammed the boot closed and whipped his gaze up and down the street, still hoping to catch a glimpse of Kristin.
“Are you looking for someone?”
David snapped his attention back to Sophie. Her blue eyes were different, now. They weren’t their usual icy blue-gray, but a lighter, gentler blue. David’s heart almost softened toward her. Then he remembered the hotel and look what happened. She’s a calculating bitch who had ruined his chances with Kristin.
“I have to go, Sophie. If you need to reach me, you can contact Bernard.”
He gave her a wide berth as he attempted to climb into the car, but Sophie caught his arm.
“And what if our baby needs you? What then?”
David stared at her like she’d just spoken in a foreign language, not quite sure he had understood her correctly. “What baby?”
Sophie took his hand and placed it over her stomach. “The one that I’m carrying. Your child. Yours and mine.”
He stared at his hand on her stomach, dumbfounded. “You’re pregnant?”
She nodded, her blond waves bouncing. “I just found out. Isn’t that wonderful? We’re going to be a family.” Sophie threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly.
David didn’t move as she hugged him fiercely. Was this another of her lies to keep him in her life? The actress released him and stepped back. His eyes searched the blue depths of hers for some inkling of the truth.
Sophie smiled.
“I’m going to be a father?” The words sounded alien to him. He’d wanted children of his own someday, but the only woman he’d seriously contemplated doing that with had been Kristin. And now, that obviously wasn’t meant to be. “You know, I could care less about you. My only concern is for the baby. So help me, if you’re lying, Sophie…” Anger started his pulse rate on an uphill climb.
She clutched his hand. “It’s true, David. No more lies. We have a second chance to make things right.” She climbed into the car and patted the seat beside her. “Come, now. We have a lot to talk about.”
David scanned the street once more. Kristin really wasn’t coming. He sighed, stepped into the car and shut the door.
Chapter Twelve
A month had passed since Kristin lay on the floor of her bedroom, wallowing in complete and utter despair. She had not heard one thing from David in that time, not that she’d expected to. That was probably for the better. Kristin had actually resumed some semblance of a normal life, though very different than what it had been before.
One of the smartest things she’d done was to make Celia her partner in the gallery. This freed a considerable amount of Kristin’s time. Though she had toyed with the idea before, it had eventually sprung out of necessity. With the sadness and anger she’d gone through in the last month, her break from David had overwhelmed her completely. She had been useless, and had even become quite ill for a week, not eating or sleeping.
Finally, Kristin had taken herself to the doctor, making her realize that Celia’s dedication was actually a blessing, and she needed her help now more than ever.
Stirring a pot of pasta simmering on the stove, the sound of the door buzzer broke her out of her reverie. Ingrid was late as usual for the lunch she’d planned. Her best friend had been keeping a close eye on her, fretting over her when she’d been sick.
Kristin walked to the intercom and buzzed the door open, then returned to her simmering pots.
Ingrid breezed in and set her things on the red couch, then hurried over to the small kitchen where Kristin stood by the stove. She deftly kicked off her black pumps and settled on one of the bar stools.
She would never understand why Ingrid wore uncomfortable shoes so often. “New shoes?” Kristin tilted her head toward the discarded black pumps.
“Of course, and bloody awful ones at that.” Her friend bent to rub a place on the top of her right foot.
“I won’t even ask why you bought them then.” She tasted the basil tomato sauce.
Ingrid stuck out her chin in a gesture of defiance. “You just don’t understand the lure of impractical shoes.”
Kristin chuckled and stirred the pasta. “Apparently not.” She leaned lazily against the counter by the stove watching her friend.
Ingrid peered over the counter into the simmering pots, and inhaled deeply. “It smells wonderful in here, love.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Kristin smiled weakly.
Her friend tilted her head, concern flashed across her blue eyes. “How are you feeling today, by the way?”
The struggle with how she and David had parted ways still felt fresh. It pained Ingrid to watch her in such agony, especially since it was similar to the grief Kristin had gone through after James died.
“I’m okay. At least, I seem to have an appetite again.” Food had been her enemy while she’d been sick, but now they seemed to be striking a shaky truce.
“Well, that’s a good sign. Your poor body was just worn out from grief, which probably made you more susceptible to whatever kind of nasty virus got hold of you.” Ingrid found a breadstick and popped a piece into her mouth.
“It wasn’t a virus.” Kristin didn’t want to look at her friend and turned toward the pot, stirring it a bit too quickly. The doctor had confirmed no flu. And no cold.
“So you’ve been to the doctor then? What was it? Food poisoning? Flu?” The tone of Ingrid’s voice was so eager.
She glanced up from the pot she had been stirring and looked directly into Ingrid’s questioning gaze. Keeping things from her friend hadn’t worked out in the past, so she’d made the decision to be frank.
“I’m pregnant.” Blurting it out took a weight off her shoulders. Kristin knew Ingrid would be there for her.
Ingrid opened her mouth, and the bread stick in her hand stopped in mid-air. “What did you say?”
Kristin inhaled deeply, trying to be patient with what she knew was an atomic bomb of news. “I’m pregnant, Ingrid.”
The air in the room grew thick in the wake of the silence following that statement. Saying it out loud made it even more real, and more frightening. She saw the same myriad of fear, disbelief, and shock cross her friend’s features that she was experiencing herself.
“Are you sure?” Her friend obviously took the disbelief route.
“Doctor confirmed it. No virus, no food poisoning. One hundred percent pregnant.” She turned off the burner and moved around the counter to sit next to Ingrid.
“Is that good or bad?” Ingrid reached for Kristin’s hand and patted it gently.
“I’m not sure yet.” Kristin blew out the long breath she had been holding, waiting for her friend’s acceptance.
“Good, I think. Hopefully good. Though if you’d asked me an hour ago or an hour from now, I might have a different answer.” When she’d found out, tears of happiness had flowed freely, but then the tears of fear came at night when she was alone in bed.
“How far along are you?” Ingrid kept her hand on Kristin’s. The encouragement from her friend’s touch eased the knot in her stomach.
Kristin shifted her gaze to the ceiling while she thought for a moment. “Let’s see, the doctor says almost eight weeks.”
“You and James always wanted a child.”
Kristin’s heart fluttered. “Yes, but after he got sick, he always said he was glad he wouldn’t be leaving a child behind as well as a wife.”
“I guess I don’t have to ask who the father is.”
Kristin’s brow pinched together as she gave her friend what she hoped looked like angry look, although she didn’t really feel it toward her. Like she’d been with anyone besides David McDougal.
Ingrid took Kristin’s other hand in hers as well. “Right, right. Are you going to tell David?” She arched a brow in question.
Kristin shook her head back and forth in a deliberate motion. “No, he has another life, one that I don’t need to be a part of.”
“But don’t you think a baby should know its father?”
She’d tried not to think about David. But, her friend had a valid point. A baby did need to know its father, but inviting David to be part of their baby’s life would also mean inviting in Sophie Miller. And that was something Kristin was loath to do.
The shaking of her head became more rapid. “I just can’t think through that right now, I can’t. One thing at a time, Ingrid.”
“Okay, okay. But what are you going to do then?” The question hung in the air, covered in the uncertainty of the moment. What was she going to do? How was she going to deal with this curve ball life had thrown her way?
“I’m going to be a single mother, I guess. I’ve already made Celia a partner in the gallery, so my duties there have been lessened. Going back to the states is really not an option. I don’t want my mother anywhere near this baby. I guess I’ll raise my child alone.” Kristin’s voice cracked as her eyes filled with tears. Could she really do this? Could she raise a child all on her own? The fear of it knotted in her stomach. Would she be like her mother? That fear alone tied the knots in her stomach even tighter.
“Well, not totally alone.” Ingrid flashed a brilliant smile. “He or she will have Auntie Ingrid around quite a bit.”
Kristin smiled and hugged her friend as tears ran down her cheeks. She had always longed to be a mother, but not necessarily under these circumstances. Right now, the idea completely overwhelmed her, but given time, she knew she would do her best to make peace with the situation and come out even stronger on the other side.
She pulled herself out of the hug with Ingrid and wiped her eyes. “God, I am so tired of crying. You wouldn’t think I’d have any tears left.”
Ingrid smiled touched her forearm lightly. “That’s the thing about tears. Your heart always finds a way to make more.”
Kristin stood and moved back around to the stove. After a steadying breath, she gathered two plates and piled them high with pasta and sauce.
“Enough blubbering.” Ingrid grabbed a plate. “Let’s eat.”
~~~
A slight breeze tousled Ingrid’s hair as she walked into the pub near her office and took a seat at the long bar, placing her briefcase solidly on the counter to her right. It had been one brutal day, and she desperately needed to unwind. Besides, these shoes were killing her feet. “Vodka martini, please. And make it dirty.”
The man nodded and began to fix her drink, leaving her to her thoughts for the moment.