Shattered Heart (The Hart Series) (13 page)

This time,
instead of Travis smacking his brother, Bryan leans over and slaps Trevor
instead.   

Just as Alex is
about to volunteer, Oliver opens his mouth.  “I’ve been told I have a death
wish coming to dinner with Ely tonight.”  Oliver looks over at Trevor, whose
lips perk up in a smirk.  “But, what you guys may not know is that I recently
relocated to Vegas just simply on the whim to get to know this beautiful girl
in front of me.”  Oliver’s eyes lock on mine, making it seem like I’m the only
one in the room.  Alex’s vice grip on my hand gets tighter reminding that we
are not the only two in the room. 

“So, I guess
what I’m thankful for is her fucktard boyfriend for showing his true colors so
she could dump his ass.”  I know I may be paranoid, but I swear I see Oliver’s
eyes shoot in Alex’s direction. 

In what appears
to be slow motion, Alex jumps up from his chair, our hands still clasped
together.  Bryan reaches over and grasps his forearms pushing him down into his
seat.  I can literally see his will breaking, but not before I see the
murderous look in the depths of his steel blue eyes.  Still glaring at Oliver,
Alex calms himself down enough for Bryan to release his hold.  The table is
quiet as everyone looks from Oliver’s smug face to the steam rising from Alex’s
head, to me.  Me, who is desperately searching Rachel’s face trying to will her
to say something.  Thankfully she gets me, or rather she sees my distressed
look, and starts talking.

What almost
happened could have been disastrous in epic proportions.

“Although that’s
a tough act to follow, I’ll go next.”  She nervously toys with her wine glass. 
“I’m thankful for my sister and Bryan.  El, you’ve made me so proud in
everything you do and I know Mom and Dad…” Her voice trails off as her eyes
gloss over.  “Well, I know they would be super proud of you.  And my Bryan, you
make me happy everyday and I’m blessed to have you.”  She smiles at him before
glancing around the other men at our table.  “I’m also thankful for our
friends.  Family isn’t necessarily something you’re born into, but it’s
comprised of the people you let into your heart and you guys are our family.” 
She beams from Travis, to Trevor, and then finally to Alex.  Don’t think I
didn’t notice her skipping over Oliver.

I purse my lips
as ridiculous tears fall from my eyes.  Of course, leave it to my sister to
make me cry…AGAIN.  I hoped Bryan would have volunteered next, keeping up the
drama free vibe.  Instead Alex offers up his thanks.  While he clears his
throat, I brace myself for what’s to come. 

“I’m thankful
for my grandmother and her improving health.  I’m especially thankful for the
new friends I’ve met this year.  But most of all, I’m thankful for second
chances.  There aren’t many times in life you’re given a gift, something that
completely changes you and makes you a better person.”  Alex squeezes my hand
and the anger that was once etched across his face has now been replaced with
softness.  “I haven’t been the best man or made the right decisions.  Lord
knows I don’t deserve it, but I’ve been given a gift and I don’t plan on giving
her up without a fight.”  Once again as if to taunt him, Alex’s eyes lift to
meet Oliver’s gaze.

Of course,
Oliver couldn’t let Alex have the last say.  “What if that gift doesn’t want
you anymore?”

“Oh the gift
wants me…trust me.”  Alex’s tone is cocky, his brows raise, and a smirk spreads
across his lips.  My palms are sweaty and I wonder if Alex can sense the unease
coursing through my body.  If I could, I would dip under the table and hide
until the night was over.

“But, what if
you
aren’t a gift to your gift?  Instead your gift was given a different gift in
the form of a relocated Sales Exec from San Diego?” 
Fuck me sideways. 

Alex stands
ready to reach over the table and pummel Oliver to the ground.  I look over to
my sister who’s shocked expression doesn’t go unnoticed as she takes in the
banter going back and forth between the two men in my life.

“Why don’t you
stop speaking in code and just fucking say it?”  Alex raises his arms to his
side releasing my hand for the first time since we sat down. 

Standing, Oliver
yells, “You want me to say it?  Fine!  You don’t fucking deserve her and soon
she’ll realize that.”

Alex’s jaw
tightens, his fingers clench together and his biceps strain against his rolled
up sleeves.  “Over my dead body.”

“Gladly!” 
Oliver rushes towards Alex.  Two seconds away from colliding head on, Bryan
interrupts their childish display with his booming voice.

“Shut. The.
Fuck. Up!  Both of you!  Fuck!”  Rachel stares at Bryan in shock.  Normally so
reserved, he stands with his hands out at his sides, clenched so tightly I can
see the white around his knuckles.  “You jackasses need to sit down and shut
the fuck up.  I was going to fucking propose, but you bastards have gone and
ruined it for me!”

As soon as it’s
out, Bryan realizes he let his plan slip and squeamishly looks over to Rachel. 
And as if the mute button was pressed on a remote, the rest of the table
watches in silence as Rachel rises from her seat, slowly making her way over to
him.

Standing in
between his legs, she places her arms around his neck and beams at him.  “You
were going to propose to me?”  Her ear to ear smile is worth a thousand
proposals.  Time has stopped and regardless of the drama that was about to
ensue, I’m ecstatic for my sister and my soon to be brother-in-law.

Nodding
enthusiastically, Bryan reaches into his pocket before dropping to one knee. 
In return, Rachel grasps his dark strands, running her fingers through his hair
lovingly as she looks at him with pure adoration. 

“Rachel…when I
met you…I knew I’d met the one.  You’ve become my best friend, my lover. 
You’ve given me more love in the time we’ve known each other than most people
experience in a lifetime.  You’re loving and selfless and I want to make you
happy for eternity.  I want to live in your smile and bask in your joy for the
rest of my life.”  Taking the ring from the box, Bryan holds it up and asks,
“Rachel Elizabeth Hart, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

It takes her
about two point five seconds to say yes as he stands and lifts her into a
constricting hug.  I’m crying.  I’m not sure why, but I’m so overwhelmed with
emotion that a stream of tears run down my face.  Leaning over, Alex grasps my
knee and gives me a warm smile before joining the rest of the room standing to
congratulate Rachel and Bryan.

Unconsciously I
run my fork back and forth across the ceramic surface of my plate.  For the
past five minutes I’ve been chewing the same piece of meat while contemplating
the past few moments.  I’m dazed as I watch Rachel and Bryan, two of my
favorite people in the world, gaze at each other as if they are the only two
people in the room.  Nothing fazes them, not that it should. 

The rational
part of me knows I should be ecstatic for my sister.  To know that she will
always be taken care of, to know she has found the one she’s meant to be with. 
Yes, I should be on cloud nine with her.  Even the irrational side, the one
that holds all my fears and anxiety, knows jealousy has no room at this dinner
table.  Not when all I can see is the affection they both have for one another,
bedroom eyes and all.  Unfortunately, the irrational side prevails and I
literally have to shake my head to pull myself out of my pity party for one. 

Thankfully,
after feeling the stuffiness in the passion filled room, Rachel catches my
eye.  I blush when she realizes my intrusion, but all Rachel can muster in
return is her large goofy grin as she shakes her head and looks sheepishly down
at her plate.  Yep, that’s my sister.

The rest of the
table seems to be in a better mood; the tension from before has dissolved. 
Oliver is oblivious while he argues with Travis and Trevor about who’s the best
quarterback in the history of all quarterbacks. 

My skin prickles
when I feel the light touch across my right hand.  Alex strums his fingers,
lightly tapping against my ring finger and leans over to whisper, “You know
that could be us one day.”  Not a question, but a mere statement of fact.  I
don’t disagree because he’s right.  It could be us someday.   

Someday.

“In a perfect
world, maybe…” my voice drops just as my stomach suddenly churns and a feeling
of absolute tension induced nausea hits me.  Being here in the middle of
dinner, surrounded by a crowd, I’m not sure what I can do except take deep
breaths and pray that it calms my nerves.  Hoping to feel some sort of relief I
place my head in my hands and lean my elbows against the table.

“Ely, are you feeling
okay?”  At the sound of concern, I lift my head only to find Oliver furrowing
his brows at me.  Of course with the distress of his voice, I not only get him,
but the rest of the table’s attention focused solely on me. 

I attempt a
smile and try to perk up and erase their frowns and puckered lips, but I’m
unable to speak.  I’m afraid my stomach hates me, on the verge of retaliating
all over the dining room floor.  Instead I just nod, straighten my body and sit
back, leaning my head against the backrest.  I’d try just about anything to
quell the unease of my belly.

At least it
works for Travis and Trevor who pause only for a minute before they continue
their silly boy banter.  Now all I have to do is worry about the rest of my
family and friends.  Mercifully, Trevor gives me a side wink as he and Travis
engage Oliver back in conversation.  I’m going to assume their intentions are
to give me and Alex a little more time to ourselves. 

Why do I think
this is a bad idea?  Oh, right…because it is.

“You alright?” 
Alex continues to mindlessly toy with my fingers.  I nod and give a tight
smile.  “You know as far as I’m concerned, you’re still mine, right?” Alex
whispers in my ear, sending a shiver through my body.  He tilts his leg to
touch my bare calf, I tremble. 

“Alex, please…”
I beg quietly, pulling my hand away from his.  Every time he’s near, he clouds
my judgment with careless decisions.  Every time, my reactions to him are ruled
by the simple fact that my body yearns for him.  And every time, he wins
because my heart refuses to fight against the one thing it aches to hold on
to. 

 “I really don’t
understand you sometimes, Hart.”  I turn my head at an angle to gaze at him
questioningly.  “None of this changes the way I feel about you.  I told you a
month ago and I guess I’ll have to continue to tell you, I chose you.  I will
always choose you, Elyssa.” 

Internally I’m
at war.  Any warm blooded female would simply throw caution to the wind and
give into her primal desires.  However, I’m trying to make calculated
decisions.  It’s not his fault, but what Alex doesn’t understand is this
equation can lead to more than heartache.  Alex plus Elyssa divided by Arianna
equals disaster.  I need to find a way to remove her as a factor and Alex’s
continual persistence is making this task difficult.  She needs to believe I’m
moving on.  If I can’t fool her, then what good is all of this heartache in the
end? 

 “I need time to
figure things out.  I wish you’d put everything on hold and let me get my life
in order.  What you’re doing, to me, to us, isn’t healthy.” 

“How
much
time, Elyssa?” Alex’s loud voice booms, causing the table to silence.

Oliver clears
his throat, faking a cough, “Pathetic.” 

Shit.  Seriously
Oliver??  I thought you were smarter than this.  I guess he really does have a
death wish. 

Alex stands,
scraping his chair along the floor causing it to nearly collapse behind him. 
“You have something to say, Prescott?  Say it, because you’re two fucking
seconds away from me jumping over this table.”  Oliver doesn’t even budge, only
taking a second to look between me and Alex.  “Look at
me
, asshole, not
her.  This…”  Alex gestures between the two of us.  “…is none of your
business.”

If he didn’t
already know, which I’m sure he had some inkling, Alex has left Oliver no doubt
that he and I were together.  That’s right.  Were.  If I think of us as past
tense, then it’s easier to accept.  Right? 

Instead of
standing and engaging Alex in a heated faceoff, Oliver stays calm taking time
to wipe off his lips with his napkin and smirk at Alex before responding. 
“Well, douche bag, I’m looking at her the same way you are.  Is there something
I
should know?”  He smiles and even I want to slap the look off his
face.  Alex practically snarls, clenching his fists at his side.  “
We
are having a lovely Thanksgiving dinner.  I didn’t realize that
your
,”
Oliver points between the two of us, “conversation was private considering the
venue.  I was simply adding my two cents.”

Sensing Alex’s
next move, I grab his wrist and pull him down to his now upright chair. 
Luckily, he also doesn’t budge, because I have no idea how to deflate this
awkwardly intense situation.  Another wave of nausea rolls over me.  I can feel
the moisture on my skin.  Of course Trevor is grinning with amusement as he
continues to shovel piles and piles of mashed potatoes into his eager mouth. 
Ugh
mashed potatoes! 
Travis, on the other hand, looks at Alex with an
expression that can only be described as pity. 

 “You two need
to cut this out,” I close my eyes and swallow the overwhelming need to purge. 
Right then I lose the battle and make a hasty retreat.  “If you’ll excuse me, I
need to use the restroom and get away from all this unnecessary drama.”  I toss
my napkin on the table and rush to the stairs.  I refuse to have another
confrontation tonight and decide the best place to hide is Rachel’s bathroom
upstairs. 

I almost don’t
make it.  The instant I’m through the doors, I’m down on my knees, bent over
the porcelain bowl.  My stomach twists as I heave, holding my hair aside.  What
did I say about not needing Alex right now?  Oh right, because he complicates
things and I’m so self-sufficient; right…I don’t need him.  But I’m not going
to lie to myself again.  Having someone right now to help me through this would
be comforting.  I know, I know…wishy-washy Elyssa.

After I’ve
expelled the entire contents of my belly, I sit on the floor and rest my back
against the cool side of Rachel’s tub.  The smooth surface gives an odd sense
of relief as I close my eyes and fight back the incessant nausea.  It takes a
minute, but I finally feel almost back to normal.  Well, normal is debatable
considering I still have my eyes closed, head resting against my sister’s
bathtub.

But when I open
my sand-filled eyes, I see something odd.  Rachel is as close to me as my own
appendage.  Growing up, our monthly cycles were always on track.  That was
until a few months ago when I decided to get on the shot.  Since then my
periods have gradually become few and far between.  Rachel didn’t want to get
on the shot because she was worried about the common weight gain.  I, on the
other hand, just wanted a way of dealing with my heavy monthly visitor. 

Which takes me
back to the shock of finding her feminine products spread across her normally
OCD clean floor.  She would literally freak out and stuff it in the bottom
drawer when she realized she hadn’t put the products away.  So, as I sit here,
my eyes focused on a small black box of tampons sitting next to the counter, I
feel a creeping sensation crawling through my skin.

This can’t be
possible.  No, it is not possible.

I scrunch my
eyes thinking of the last time I went to the doctor.  I remember him saying
that I’m supposed to get it every twelve weeks habitually to avoid any issues. 
One of the benefits of getting the shot was the simple fact there were no daily
pills to take, which is what sold me since I can’t remember to take my
multivitamins most of the time.  Problem is, when you can’t remember your last
visit, how are you supposed to remember when to schedule your next one. 

I frantically
search my pockets for my phone.  I have never been so thankful for the genius
who invented the Smartphone, or the other genius who programmed the app with
the ability to track your appointments with the flick of your finger. 

Seriously, thank
God for modern technology, without it I would never be able to keep up with my
body.  I know it’s a bad sign when I’ve gone through several months without an
appointment. 
I knew I should have stuck to having horrible cramps and God
awful cycles.  Shit. Shit. Shit.
  Looking down at the screen, I let out a
small whimper. 

I’m a month
overdue for my next shot. 

With so much
going on in my life, I’ve been preoccupied.  Besides, birth control was never
really high on my priority list because I wasn’t having sex.  Not until Alex
came into my life.  And since then, damn…I guess it’s true what they say.  It’s
all fun and games until you forget your damn OB/GYN appointment.

Time stood still
for at least a minute and a half, until I was catapulted into an immediate
panic attack. 
Breathe Ely, breathe.
  Both hands on my chest, my mind
swirls with thoughts.  Only once in my life have I ever had to worry about
this
. 
Cole.  And we all know how that ended.  I didn’t want the baby and didn’t know
how to handle the “situation.”   Cole didn’t know anything about it, yet
unknowingly destroyed a small part of my soul.  End of discussion.

No, I know there
is no way I’m pregnant. 
I read the pamphlet.  It said that I was like
99.99999 percent unlikely to get pregnant.  Of course, it also stated IF I
received my shots regularly.   

Again, I look to
my phone for answers.  I search for my scheduled doctor’s appointment.  It
didn’t take long to find what might be my biggest pang of guilt to date. 
Fuck.
Me.
  According to my trusty calendar, you know, the one that’s supposed to
alert me when I have an appointment says that my
next
visit was supposed
to have been Friday, October 19, 2012.  Two weeks prior to the Friday I left
for New York.  The day Alex walked out of my life. 

Still, there is
no way.  It’s stress.  That’s all.  Stress.

Not able to
believe the “situation” I’ve put myself in, let alone with Alex, I animatedly
shake my head back and forth while I continue to push back the possibility. 
It
doesn’t matter.  Alex and I weren’t together that often within the last couple
of months.  No shit, Sherlock!  It only takes one time.  Don’t you remember sex
education! 
Am I really talking to myself right now? 

I take a deep
breath which thankfully represses the nausea and calm the tears welling in my
eyes, but not the freak out that’s about to happen. 
What if I am pregnant? 
Can you imagine that conversation?
  “So Alex, I know I’ve been hot and
cold with you, and I know how it must have seemed like I was using you when I
went to New York and left you in the middle of the night.  But, in
that
moment of insanity (because I have so many), while I was doped up on Benadryl,
apparently you got me pregnant.  Congratulations, you’re going to be a Dad!! 
Should I buy cigars now or later when we know the sex of the baby?  You know,
so I can get the right color and all.
”

I laugh loudly
unable to fight the growing unease. 
Mom, Dad, what am I going to do? 
I
scrape my hands over my face.  So many thoughts race through my head, none I
care to discuss.  Not without seeming crazier than I already feel.  And even
though I haven’t been acting appropriately, I now know what I need to do.  I
have to be a grownup and make grownup decisions.  First things first; I need to
get out of here and to a drug store to buy a test.