With Me in Seattle Bundle One (36 page)

How am I going to tell Luke that I’m pregnant?  I know he wants kids, and so do I, but not yet.  We’re not even married yet.  I couldn’t bear it if he thought I was trying to trap him into something he doesn’t want.

Jules turns on the TV and flips through channels, pausing when she finds a nightly entertainment gossip show.

“We spotted Luke Williams out today.” 

Holy shit!

“He was having a romantic lunch with Vanessa Horn, one of his former co-stars from the
Nightwalker
movies.  Has Luke finally come out of hiding to rekindle his romance with the lovely Vanessa?  They were engaged to be married for over a year before their split early last year.  We smell love in the air! We will be sure to keep you updated on Luke and Vanessa as we get more details.” 

There is a series of photos rolling across the screen, taken today.  I recognize the black T-shirt and jeans he wore on the plane.  He and the beautiful blond Vanessa are indeed leaving a restaurant, his arm is around her shoulders, and he’s smiling down at her, his nose pressed against her ear. Then there’s a photo of him wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her in for a kiss.  The camera is angled badly, so I can’t actually see the lip-lock, but it’s obvious that’s what they’re doing.  In the next photo, she’s getting into a car, and he’s holding the door for her.  In the last photo, he’s getting into the driver’s side of that same car.

“Holy fuck, he’s cheating on me.”

“We don’t know that.”

“I just saw it with my own eyes!” 

“Nat, it’s the fucking paparazzi.  They make everything up.”

“Pictures don’t lie.  I know that better than anyone.  You saw the way he was touching her and looking at her.  He kissed her.”

The jealousy running through me is primal.  My heart is hammering. I’m breathing hard, and I feel my face heat.  If I didn’t have anti-nausea meds on board, I’d be hurling again.

“Natalie,” Jules murmurs and takes my hand.  “I’m sure it’s not what you think.”

I shake my head and give in to the tears.  “It’s over.”

“No, Natalie.  No.  Talk to him about it tomorrow.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”  I shake my head again, unable to believe what I just saw.  “I can’t trust him.  I can’t live this celebrity life with him.”

“You’re being silly.”

“Shut up!  You’re supposed to be on my side!  You’re
my
goddamn friend, not his.  He’s fucking around on me!  I just saw proof, so show some fucking loyalty, Jules.” 

“I’m sorry.”  She starts to cry, too, and I feel like a shit.

“Come here.”  I scoot over, and she crawls up onto the bed with me, holding me to her as we weep.  “What am I going to do?”

“Take some time.  You’ve just found out you’re pregnant after being violently ill.  You’re not thinking straight.  Take some time.”  She’s stroking my hair, and I am so thankful for her.

“Okay.”

My phone pings, and it’s a text from Luke.

Almost done with today’s meetings, baby.  Will call you tonight.  Love you
.

“Fucker.”  I throw the phone down and don’t bother to answer, but the floodgates open to more tears.  About five minutes later, there’s another text.

I haven’t heard from you all day.  I miss you.  You okay?

“Nat, you have to talk to him.”

“No.”  I turn the phone off and throw it in my handbag.

A few minutes later, Dr. Anderson returns with my prescriptions and discharge instructions.  “You’re free to go, Natalie.  Good luck.”

I’m going to need it.

Jules drives us to the pharmacy and then home.  I’m loaded down with medication and vitamins. 

When we get home, I go up to my room and crawl onto the bed, curl into a ball and weep like I haven’t since my parents died.  I feel like my world is literally falling apart, and essentially, it is.  I can’t be with Luke.  He’ll make up excuses for what I saw today, but he can’t change it.  He had his hands on that woman, in an intimate way.  He used to be engaged to her, and he lied to me when he told me he never spoke to his former fiancée.

I press my hand to my belly.  Oh God, and what am I supposed to do about the baby?  Be a single parent?  I guess I can do that. I don’t see a choice.  But the thought of it tears my heart out. 

I fall asleep in the middle of my bed, sobbing and mourning the best relationship I’ve ever had, the loss of the one person I saw myself spending the rest of my life with.

***

“Wake up, Nat.”  I startle awake at Luke’s voice.

“What are you doing here?” 

His eyes are worried, and he’s leaning over me, his face pale. “I couldn’t reach you all day, and I was worried so I came home.  Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“Who told you I’m sick?”  I sit up and scoot back out of his grasp, and he frowns, confused.

“Jules said you’d been sick today, and she took you to the ER.  Baby, you don’t look very good.”

“Yeah, I’m probably contagious.  You should go home.”  I wrap my arms around myself, and I just can’t look him in the face.

“Natalie, what’s wrong?”

“I just don’t feel good.”

“Bullshit, look at me.  Where’s your ring?”  His eyes are on my left hand.

“In my jewelry box.”

“Why isn’t it on your finger?”  His voice is rising, and he’s starting to look desperate, and I’m still sad and pissed and hormonal, and I know this is not going to go well.

“Luke, I think you should go home.”

“No.  Tell me what’s wrong.”

I can’t stop the tears as they fall down my face.  Luke reaches for me, but I pull back.

“Let me touch you.”

“No.”  I shake my head.  “I just want you to go home.”

Luke pushes his hands through his hair in frustration.  “Nat, let me help.  Talk to me.”

“You’ve done enough.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just go home!” I shout.

“No!” he shouts back.

I hang my head in my hands and hate myself for crying in front of him.  “Just go,” I whisper.

“You’re scaring the shit out of me.  What is wrong?”

“I saw you.”  I raise my face and look him square in the eye.  “I saw you with Vanessa outside of a restaurant in LA.  I saw you with your arm around her and your nose against her fucking ear, your mouth was on hers, and you got into a car with her.”

He frowns and swallows.

“Now get the fuck out.”

“Natalie, that was a lunch meeting for a movie I’m asking her to do.  There were three other people there.  Did you see them in the photos, too?”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m not lying to you.”

“I know what I saw.”

“You saw exactly what the motherfucking paparazzi wanted you to see!  I told you from the beginning, you need to talk to
me
, Natalie.”

I’m shaking my head adamantly.  “You lied to me when you told me that you don’t speak to your ex-fiancée.  You wig out on me about Brad, ask me to respect your feelings when it comes to working with men, but you don’t give me a heads-up that you’re going to be meeting with a woman you not only used to fuck but were supposed to marry?  According to those photos, you more than talk to her.  Did you fuck her in that car?”

“Jesus Christ, no!  Is that what you think?”

“Just go.  I can’t trust you, and I don’t want you here.”

“You’re making this more than what it is.  I’m telling you, it was a business meeting.”

“Okay.  I still don’t want you here.”

“Fuck, Nat.”  He stands up and paces around my room, looking everywhere, running his hands through his hair.  “Why won’t you believe me?”

“You lied to me, and that’s a line I can’t deal with you crossing.”

“I didn’t lie!”  he shouts.  “I haven’t spoken to her until this week when I asked her to do the fucking movie!”

Oh, why won’t he just go?  My tears are coming again.

“Baby, don’t cry.  I promise, I’m not lying to you about this.”  He steps toward me, but I hold my hand up, stopping him.

“You need to know what seeing that did to me.  You didn’t look like colleagues, Luke.  You had your hands on her, and the look on your face was the one you give me when you smile at me.”  He swallows, and I continue.  “You effectively ripped my heart out and stomped it to dust with just one look.  Now, I’m upset and hurt and hormonal, and I can’t deal with you tonight.  I need you to give me some space, and I need it now because I just can’t look at you anymore.”

“Natalie, we’ve both done things we regret.  Fuck, your whole body is a road map to your mistakes.”

I blink at him.  Did he seriously just say that to me?

“I guess this will just be an experience that I’ll add to my road map.  Now get out of my house before I call the police.”

“I love you.”  He’s looking me square in the eyes, his blue eyes bright with fear.  “This is not over.  I’ll give you some time, but goddamn it, Nat, this is not over.” 

He leaves my room and slams the door behind him.  A few seconds later, I hear the front door slam, too, and then I hear his car—the Lexus?—peel out of the driveway.

I lie back on the bed, too exhausted to cry or, ironically, sleep. 

“I didn’t tell him about the baby,” I say as Jules walks into my room.

“I figured.  Did he deny it?”

“He says it was a business lunch about a movie he’s asking her to do.”  My voice is monotone.

“He could be telling the truth.”

I glare at her, and she continues.  “Natalie, if you hadn’t just gotten the news about the baby five seconds before we saw the show, would you be reacting the same way?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think so.”  Jules climbs on the bed with me but doesn’t touch me.  “Honey, I think today has just been an emotional roller coaster for you.”

“That’s the truth.”  I sigh and throw an arm over my face.  “We hurt each other really bad tonight.”

“I heard.”

I glare over at her again, and she shrugs.  “My room is fifteen feet away, and you were yelling.”

“What do you think?” I ask, because I love her, and she loves me, and she’ll tell me the truth.

“Do you want me to tell you the truth or do the best-friend-loyalty thing?”

“Um, both.”

“Okay.”  She takes a deep breath and looks down at me.  “Luke is the best thing that ever happened to you.  I don’t believe he was cheating on you today.  I think that he needs to remember to be more careful of how he behaves, especially in public, because the fucking paparazzi will twist just about anything into a good story.  But he’s been away from all of that for years now, and I can understand why he let his guard down.”

She pauses and gazes at me intently.  “Natalie, he loves you.  He had tears in his eyes when he stormed out of here.  He knows he fucked up.  Not only that”—she raises her hand to stop me from speaking—“you have to think about the baby, too.  I’m not saying to stay with him for the sake of the baby, but I am saying that he needs to know, and you need to remember that you’re incredibly hormonal.”

I’m trying to process everything she’s saying.  She’s right.  I am probably blowing this way out of proportion.

“I don’t want him to think I’m trying to trap him into being with me because of the baby,” I whisper.

“Honey, why would he think that?  You didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I’m scared.”

“It’s going to be okay.”  She wraps me in her arms and hugs me tight. 

***

By the next morning I’m starting to feel a little foolish.  It’s amazing what a night of sleep, some anti-nausea meds and a good cry will do.

Now, how do I make it right?

I take a long shower and frown at my puffy eyes in the mirror as I get ready for the day.  I look horrible.  I dress in some jeans and a sweater and pull my ring out of my jewelry box and put it back on my hand.

We have a lot of talking to do, but we’ll get through this.

Jules is in the kitchen when I go downstairs.  “You look horrible.”

“Thanks.  I feel a little better.”

“Good.  Going over there?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll go.”

“Everything is going to be fine.” 

“Thank you.  For everything, Jules.”

“I love you.  Now go get your man.”  We grin at each other, and I leave the house, on foot.  I’m going to walk to his place, get a little exercise and fresh air.  He doesn’t live too far away from me.

As I walk I think about all the ways he’s shown me over the last two months that he loves me.  The coffees, the massages, how he’s always so concerned about how I’m feeling or what I’m thinking.  Even his possessiveness is loving.  And the flowers!  All the hundreds of flowers.

Not to mention my birthday and taking me to Tahiti.  Holding me on the plane.  The way he held me at the cemetery.

My God, he loves me so much.  And I threw it all back at him last night.

I have to apologize.  I have to make it right.

I walk faster and make it to his house in less than fifteen minutes.  I decide to knock on the door rather than use my key, because I’m not sure how I’ll be received, but he doesn’t answer.  I ring the bell over and over, but still no answer.

Weird.

I let myself in with my key and wander through the house, calling his name.  He’s nowhere to be found.  I go upstairs, and he’s not there either.  His bed looks like it hasn’t been slept in since he and I left yesterday morning to take him to the airport.

Shit.  Where is he?

I pull my phone out of my pocket and call him.  It rings and rings and then goes to voice mail.

“Hey, it’s me.  I’m at your place, but you’re not here.  Please call me.  I’m worried.”  I can’t help but feel a little hypocritical after he came to me last night because he was worried and I threw him out.

I send him a text as well, in case he doesn’t check his messages, and wander downstairs.

I go out onto the deck and sniff my flowers.  They’ve stayed remarkably fresh-looking thanks to the cool, early fall weather.  I sit on our love seat and can’t help but remember Saturday night after Luke’s parents’ anniversary party when he proposed.

I look down at my ring and grin.

Where is he?

I try calling him again, but it goes to voice mail.