Secret Regrets (Living For Today #2) (18 page)

“Rose, I can’t. You’re
my one
. I don’t know how to function without you. My lungs need your air to breathe. I love you with every ounce of my being, and I’ve tried to move on, I have, but each thing they do or don’t do makes me think of you. I compare them to you. Their lips aren’t the perfect round plumpness as yours that I crave to taste. When I breathe them in, they don’t smell of lavender and honeysuckle that I yearn to survive on. When will you see?” Jordan shoved past me and left the courtroom, obviously defeated, brokenhearted, and I couldn’t help but watch him trudge out with little slivers of my heart following.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

S
HOVING MY FOOD AROUND ON MY
plate, I avoided eye contact with everyone — Leslie’s pitiful eyes, Grant’s disappointed ones, Bryant’s worried gaze, and Jennifer’s wicked glare. Each set held a meaning, and I just couldn’t deal with them.

When Leslie had stalked me into the bathroom, she’d asked a hundred questions at once, making sure I was okay.

Grant was just angry that I continued to drive a wedge between his two best friends, and really, who could blame him?

Bryant sat wondering where my head was in it all. Was I happy I married him? Did I secretly want Jordan?

And Jennifer… she no doubt hoped the situation would destroy my relationship and give her an in.
Bitch
. I chose to focus on hating her. Hate I could do.

“You need to eat,” Leslie muttered after I had shoved my plate away.

“I’m not hungry. Thinking about food literally is making me sick to my stomach,” I protested, giving the plate an extra nudge away to emphasis my point.

“Babe, can I speak with you before we head back?” Bryant nervously asked, his voice trembling just slightly.

Flashing a smile, I met his chocolate-brown eyes. “Of course. I’m done. Let’s move to the hallway.” We stood and made our way to a bench by the courtroom then sat in an awkward silence for a few seconds.

“So, are you okay?” Bryant asked as he stared at a spot on the wall that held a portrait of someone who’d once meant something to the courthouse.

“I’m nervous. I feel like Jennifer has presented a good case and seems confident. But you know me, always waiting for that other shoe. I just want this behind us.” I knew it wasn’t what he was asking, but I had hoped to skip around the real question.

Letting out a sigh, Bryant made a big show of rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck. “Me too. I can see it affecting you. You’re not eating much, and when you do, you rarely keep it down. You look like you’re losing weight too?”

I nodded in agreement, unsure what to say. These were all facts I couldn’t argue; I just couldn’t
not
be stressed. Not worry. Not until it is settled. Darren was still destroying my life, even from the grave, it seemed.

“Bryant, Rose, it’s time to go back in.” Jennifer called to us as she walked up the steps.

Bryant stood first, smoothing out his slacks and then straightening his tie before reaching for my hand. It was that unspoken promise of having each other, going through things together. My choice, my love, and it was a no-brainer.

Sliding my hand into his rough, calloused one, I interlocked our fingers and gave a squeeze.

Now back in the courtroom, any ease that I had clung onto from Bryant had vanished. The seat beside me was vacant, and I felt alone and lost. Jordan had left. I’d finally driven him away with my marriage to Bryant, and I felt a mixture of relief and despair. Hope and sadness. I felt like we had backtracked to that day at the coffee shop when I’d fled to Italy with Leslie. With Jordan, the relationship always seemed to be an all or nothing, and I couldn’t be his all, so I had to be nothing. Nevertheless, it killed me just a little inside, knowing I continued to hurt him.

The prosecutor seemed to be sweating bullets, with no grasp on what he wanted to say. The judge looked annoyed as he scrambled to plead his case. But then he smiled just slightly, and I knew he’d found something in his notes.

“Your Honor, we’d like to call a witness up to testify. Ian Donohue can testify to the defendant’s anger issues and tendency to attack people unprovoked.”

Jennifer leaped to her feet. “Your Honor, I object! Ian Donohue was an accomplice to Darren Parker’s attempts to harass and attack my client’s wife. He even maneuvered himself so that he would be placed into a role where he would be supervising Mrs. Matthews and could influence her. We have filed restraining orders against him for both my client and his wife for their safety. This witness’s testimony will be biased, and I adamantly object.” I could see her confidence waver, and it terrified me. If Jennifer wasn’t sure, that seemed really bad in my opinion.

The judge flipped through a file the bailiff had handed him. I could see him burrow his eyebrows and rub his temples as he read through a page, no clear thought showing on his face.

“I—”He placed his hands back down on his stand. “—I’m inclined to agree that we should not expose the Matthews to him, but he is also turning evidence for a lesser sentence, I understand, which honestly makes me less likely to trust him. I have read his initial statement, and I will count that as a testimony in this case, so that his deal is satisfied.”

“Your Honor.” Vince stood, obviously furious his plan wasn’t working.

“No. I’ve decided. You do not have sufficient evidence, Mr. Gambit. I am dismissing the charges based on the fact that Ms. Collins has clearly demonstrated a case of self-defense at the stand-your-ground hearing, and you have, if anything, helped prove her case. Mr. and Mrs. Matthews have been targeted ruthlessly by a man who was stalking Mrs. Matthews. She even brought this to the police department, and they didn’t seem to take her concerns seriously or do anything about them. I am ruling in the defendant’s favor.” The judge gave his official ruling, but all I could do was take in the faces of all Bryant’s supporters: the relief of his parents, the happiness of Leslie and Grant. Warm arms wrapped around me and lifted me up in celebration. I could finally breathe, feel the air filling my lungs.

“We are free. We won, Rose!” Bryant’s breathless voice cheered in my ear.

Eleanor’s lilac perfume filled my nose as more arms enveloped us.

It was the light at the end of a very long tunnel. Bryant had been cleared of his charges, and we could finally move on.

Walking out of the courtroom, Bryant strutted with a renewed sense of freedom and confidence as he made his way to the room the bailiff had directed him to. Jennifer had cautioned us that the State could bring charges back if they got more evidence, but she didn’t expect it to come to fruition.

The bailiff brought in someone to remove the ankle monitor, and we left, practically skipping out the doors.

Just as we hopped in the car, my cell phone rang, popping up with my doctor’s office number. “Hello?” I answered.

“Hi, I’m hoping to speak with Rose Barnes?” the sweet southern-twanged voice asked through the speaker.

“This is.”

“Hi, Ms. Barnes, I am just calling with your appointment reminder for tomorrow and wondering if you are able to run by the lab and get some blood drawn today. The doctor wants to run some tests on things he noted in your chart from the hospital.”

“Um, yeah, we can go by today. Is something wrong?” My nausea shot back as I went through every blood-borne pathogen dating back to the bubonic plague.

“Oh no, don’t worry yourself. Just a level had shown elevated, but if you’ve been feeling fine, I’m sure it was nothing. The doctor can tell you more tomorrow.”

I pressed the red end button and let the phone slide into the cup holder as I continued running through the list. Cue the other shoe… and
thud
.

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

“Apparently a blood level was elevated, and they want me to get lab-work. She said if I had been feeling okay, it was nothing to worry about. What does that even mean?”

The tires squealed in protest as Bryant flipped the car around. “You’ve been sick. You have dropped a lot of weight lately, and maybe it’s something wrong. And bruising— Look! You have a ton of bruises lately too.”

“Bryant,” I soothed, placing my hand on his denim-clad leg. “I was stressed. I’m better now, and I’ve been losing weight because of not eating.”

“Whatever. We’ll know tomorrow after we go get your lab-work done now.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

B
RYANT PULLED IN TO THE DOCTOR’S
office parking lot, laughing with a carefree abandon that made my heart swell with happiness. He tugged my hand up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss in the palm of my hand. “We’ll get through this together,” he promised.

I walked into the waiting area and checked in with the short pudgy woman at the front counter. Then I sat and waited to see my doctor, listening as each click of the second hand indicated the time passing. The putrid green chairs that all attached to one another made me feel like vomiting again.

“Mrs. Barnes?” the southern-twanged voice I’d spoken to yesterday day called.

“Yep!” I jumped to my feet and tossed my purse on my shoulder, shuffling my feet over to the door that led from no news to lots of news. That was what the threshold signified. Over here I was in rainbows and sunshine-filled bliss; over there I had to face the music and deal with whatever the news meant.

“So, go ahead and just have a seat. Doctor is going to re-check the wound and discuss the labs,” she said as she backed out of the room and sealed it shut.

Bryant and I sat there in silence, waiting, listening to every footfall and voice in the hallway, wondering if someone was coming closer to the door. A knock had us both shooting to the ceiling as the doctor stepped in.

“Hello, Mrs. Matthews. I hear a congratulations is in order,” he said with a professional smile as he flipped through my chart and took a seat on his little wheelie stool.

“So, when you were in the hospital for your gunshot wound, your labs flagged because your iron levels were low. On the repeat lab, they have dropped more, showing you are anemic.”

I looked to Bryant whose stoic face gave nothing away.

What
does this
mean?

“How is her white blood cell count?” Bryant asked, stepping up to stand beside me and taking my hand.

“Perfectly fine. I’m sorry. I’m not explaining this right. There is a cause for the anemia. I’m sure it’s because of your nutrition as of late, stress, and that your hCG levels are elevated.”

“Wait. What?” Bryant’s grip on my hand tightened as his face lit up. It was clear he knew exactly what this meant, while I still was confused.

Wracking my brain, I couldn’t place the term or what it meant, only that I had heard it before. The only relief to my worry came from the fact Bryant was now fighting back a full-out megawatt smile.

“I suppose a double congratulations are in order. Your E.R. physician was a bit concerned with your history to give you any false hope when he saw the labs, and, I imagine, it was a stressful day on top of it. So he sent a note requesting repeat labs. Your anemia is serious. You need to get on prenatal vitamins with iron immediately and get your eating under control. I’m transferring your care over to an obstetrician. I wish you two all the best.”

As I watched the doctor excuse himself from the room, I sat in total shock. I was pregnant. Bryant and I were going to have another baby. One by one, tears streaked down my cheeks as Bryant fell to his knees and placed his hands onto my belly.

I
PULLED INTO THE
gravel drive and put my car in park. This was a thing I needed to do alone. It’d been a few weeks since we’d heard we were expecting, and everyone, including Eleanor, were actually happy for us. Leslie and my mom were cautious, no doubt knowing it would dredge up a lot of memories and emotions.

Grabbing the tissue-wrapped bouquet, I slid out of the car then shut the door behind me, the car horn confirming I’d locked the doors. I walked around the old brick church I’d grown up in and followed the paved pathway to the iron-gated area until I neared the angel, my angel, that Bryant had given me when I’d come back. Our statue in memory of Angelica. A place for us to come and be. Today, this was exactly what I needed.

“Hi, princess, how are you doing up there?” I began, trying to fight back the tears that wanted to escape. “I just wanted to come by, tell you that you are going to be a big sister. Can you watch out for your baby sister or brother for Mommy? We miss you so much, Angelica.”

I sat there for a while, resting my head against the foundation just dreaming about a life where Angelica could have been overjoyed with us and run around in a shirt that said
Big
Sister.
A life where she and Bryant got to have tea parties, and I got to take her on shopping trips. Instead, I sat here in a grassy area with flowers resting on a plaque beneath a stone angel statue.

As the storm clouds rolled in, I pushed myself off the ground.

Typical Florida weather
—
sunny skies one second, pouring rain the next, then right back to sun,
just add in some humidity.