Fucking hell.
No, it can’t be.
My arm falls from Lucy’s shoulders as I blink at her in confusion and then down at Lucy’s cringing face.
“What are you doing here, Nash?” the pregnant woman exclaims when she takes several steps backward.
“Nash? As in your ex-husband?” Fat Boy asks before turning to Lucy. “Why would you bring her ex-husband?”
“Ellie?” I finally force her name past my lips.
“Oh, don’t pretend like this is all a coincidence!” she exclaims loudly, causing everyone in the lobby to stare at us. “Is this some sort of sick payback?” she snaps, narrowing her eyes at Lucy. Eyes that are a similar blue…
“He didn’t know,” Lucy says softly.
“But you did!” she screeches.
God. My ex-wife may still be beautiful, but I haven’t missed her annoying voice constantly shrieking.
“This stress isn’t good for the baby!” Ellie exclaims, clutching at her bump before she turns around and storms off.
“Lucy, how could you?” one of the women mutters before she and the doughboy go chasing after her. That must have been Ellie’s mother. I only met her and Ellie’s father once years ago when they made it clear they didn’t approve of me.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have come, sweetie,” the remaining woman says with a gentle tone, making me assume she’s Lucy’s mother.
“This is not what it looks like!” Lucy says. “Nash didn’t know Ellie was marrying Barry.”
“Ellie’s marrying that prick and having his kid?” I yell since I still didn’t know that shit. “This is why she sent me divorce papers? To marry that fat bastard?”
“Yes,” Lucy says to me. “I’m sorry. If you want to leave, we can.”
“Fuck yes I want to leave!” I shout as I shake my head in disbelief and walk away, feeling like I’m suddenly starring in an episode of the fucking Twilight Zone.
Lucy
* * *
“Nash, wait! I’m sorry!” I call out as I hurry across the lobby to catch up with Nash, who is heading out the door like he just saw a ghost. And yeah, in a way, I guess he has since this is the first time he’s seen Ellie in three years.
He’s passing along the passenger side of my car with all of his fingers tugging on his hair by the time I catch up.
“What…you….fuck!” he shouts to the sky like he’s trying to find the words.
“Get in the car,” I tell him, and he stops pacing long enough to glare down at me, his golden eyes angrier than I’ve ever seen before. “Please?”
“Fuck!” he exclaims again before he jerks the door open and folds up inside before slamming it closed so hard that I hope he didn’t break it.
I hurry around and get in the driver seat, toss my purse into the backseat, then get us out of there, driving like a bat out of hell.
It sucks that I’m driving, because I have to keep my attention split between the road and a fuming Nash beside me.
“I’m sorry,” I say to him again. “I tried to warn you, but I didn’t know how. I should’ve just come out and told you…”
“You fucking think?” he snaps while cracking his knuckles.
“Don’t forget that I did try and talk you out of coming,” I remind him. “But you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“If you had told me…”
“You wouldn’t have wanted to come?” I finish for him. “Or you would’ve wanted to come even more to see her?”
I steal a quick glance at Nash, who has turned his face away to look out the window.
“You’re fucking related to her!” he mutters.
“Yes. Ellie’s my cousin. Our moms are sisters.”
“And you’ve known this whole entire time who I was?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus! Why, Lucy?” he asks.
“I’m not entirely sure,” I admit to him, unable to face him. “At first, I think I was hoping that maybe I could convince you to try and win her back. But then I saw how hard getting over her was for you and realized that you deserved better, to be free of her.”
“That’s seriously fucked up,” he grumbles.
“I know that!” I agree. “Which is why I gave up on that stupid idea by, like, the second day we met.”
“You moved into my goddamn building, into the apartment below me like some psycho stalker!”
“I know,” I reply with my throat burning and eyes stinging so badly that I have to pull over into a gas station. After putting the car in park, I go back to gripping the steering wheel. “But I didn’t move to Carolina Beach just for you. It looked like a nice place. I love the beach, and I wanted a fresh start, so I figured I could kill two birds with one stone.”
I don’t have to look at Nash’s face to know he’s scowling.
“Tell me what I can do to make this up to you,” I say softly. “Wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do.”
Blowing out a breath, he says, “I have no fucking idea. It’s like I can’t wake up from a shitty nightmare, and I just want to fucking hit someone!”
Despite how pissed he is, I don’t think he would ever physically take his anger out on me. Still, I can tell from his tense posture that he’s wound tight. So tight, he’ll eventually snap. So, to make sure Nash doesn’t end up in prison just yet, I grab my phone from my purse and do a quick search. Thankfully, we’re only twenty miles away from a place where Nash can work out all of his rage without it ending in handcuffs.
“Now where are we going? You planning to reunite me with my biological parents without telling me?”
“No, sorry,” I say again with a glance at him. “But I could find them for you if you want.” I visibly cringe when I realize that I was supposed to act shocked to learn he spent years in the foster system.
“Is there anything you don’t know about me?” he huffs. “Apparently, I don’t know a damn thing about you except that you’re an excellent liar!”
“That back there was it for me, the only lie I’ve omitted from you. It’s possible that I was a woman scorned and not thinking clearly when I first moved into the apartment under yours.”
“No shit.”
The two of us are both silent the rest of the way until I stop the car again.
“What’s this place?” he asks, glancing at the building from the passenger window.
“Come inside and find out,” I tell him.
“No, thanks. I just want to be alone.”
That was a nice way of saying he’s super pissed at me and doesn’t want to be near me. I completely understand why, but I don’t want him to hate me.
“It’ll be good for you, I promise, even better than sulking alone. Please, Nash?”
“What fucking choice do I have? Can’t be worse than you nagging me to death,” it sounds like he mumbles to himself before he reluctantly gets out and follows me to the door.
Inside, I step up to the counter where a young guy wearing a blue bandana with his long hair pulled back in a ponytail is standing, waiting. I pull out my wallet.