Three days later, I was on a plane back to Australia, numb. It wasn’t until I was back home, back at work, back in class, that I’d realized she’d never told me she loved me back. The color had already been bleached from my world by then. Looking at her now, I wondered when the colors had returned. And were they going to disappear again?
“That night scared the shit out of me, Bren,” she said, her voice husky. “I wasn’t ready for it. I wasn’t ready to be in love, not even with someone as incredible as you. But I was. I spent the next two days trying to figure out what to do, growing more scared with every minute.” She shook her head, lowering her gaze to her feet so her face was hidden by the damp strands of her hair. “And then I did the second most stupid thing of my life – told you it was over.”
“The second most stupid thing?”
She looked up at me again. Her eyes swam with tears. “The most ridiculous thing was not telling you I was pregnant.”
And here we were. At the main topic of conversation.
I drew a slow, steadying breath into my lungs. Anger scraped at my sanity once more. “Okay then,” I said, holding her stare. “Tell me why you didn’t.”
Her wobbly laugh surprised me. She shook her head, rubbing at her arms again. “Damn you, Brendon, I wanted you to ask me if it was yours.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“I wanted you to give me a reason to get indignant. But you believe me. The thought didn’t even cross your mind, did it? That you may not be the father?”
“No.”
She laughed again, although this time it was more a harrowed sob. “See? This is why I didn’t tell you. Because you are Brendon. This is how you approach life. With one hundred percent conviction. You didn’t even try to suggest you may not be the father. You’re incredible and giving and trusting. If I’d told you, you would have thrown everything you’d planned in your life away to come back and do what you thought was the right thing.”
“What I thought was the right thing? It is the right thing, Amanda. No thinking required. It is the right thing. But you denied me that.” My anger flared hot as blood roared in my ears. I clawed at the back of my neck and looked away. “You didn’t even give me the chance to be a part of this.”
“A chance at what? Being trapped? Being in love is all well and good, but love won’t stave off resentment and contempt when you look at your life – full of dirty diapers, puke-covered clothes and sleep-deprived nights – and remember the plans and dreams you had. You weren’t only managing a business in Australia, Bren, you were talking about creating a chain of them. You were getting amazing grades, had an amazing life, and amazing goals. Goals I knew you would achieve. And you are achieving them. Look at you, already talking to a bank manager about a business loan. What twenty-five year old does that?”
“The same twenty-five year old who would have wanted to know he was going to be a dad the second the woman he loved found out.”
The accusation – for that’s what it was – left me on a flat snarl. Yeah, I was angry. It had been a while since I was this angry. The last time I’d punched Raphael Jones and then got into a brawl with a gun-carrying bodyguard. This time I had no outlet for the rage building inside me, unless I could get to a gym, a boxing ring, somewhere to let out my pent-up physical energy ASAP.
I didn’t like that. And I sure as shit didn’t like that I was angry. I didn’t do anger like this. It wasn’t me, it wasn’t the Brendon I wanted to be.
“I’m sorry, Bren,” she said, tears freely rolling over her cheeks. “I didn’t . . .” She stopped, scrubbing at her face. Sniffed.
A part of me – so small it was worrying – wanted to stand up and walk to where she still hugged herself against the door. I didn’t.
Couldn’t.
“Did the thought of telling me ever cross your mind?”
“I called you twice,” she said, with another one of those shaky laughs. “The first time was a week after I found out. I hadn’t told anyone, not even Chase. God, I couldn’t even begin to think how I’d tell Mom and Dad. Dad . . .” She stopped, closed her eyes, sighed, and then looked at me again. “I was sitting in my car, outside an abortion clinic, waiting for it to open, when I called that first time.”
An empty chill pressed at something deep inside me. I stared at her. Had I thought I was angry before?
“I called you to tell you. To apologize for fucking up. To ask if you’d come back so we could talk about it. I so desperately needed you to hold my hand, to tell me it was going to be okay, it was going to be gravy.” Another laugh, choked in a sob. She wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand, her shimmering eyes flicking around the room. “I sat there in my cold car, aching for your warmth, your strength, staring at that closed abortion clinic, and some girl answered your cell and said you were busy. The international clock app on my phone told me it was one am in Sydney. I figured you’d moved on.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
The question was out before I could stop it. And with it, my anger. I rose to my feet, gaping at her. “You called to tell me I was a dad and bailed when some chick answered my phone? When was this? A week after you found out? Which was a month after I left? So, what? Five weeks of me being back in Sydney?” My brain tried to pinpoint the night she was talking about. All it could come up with was I must have been at a party. I’d tried to erase the memory of Amanda by partying. And by partying I mean getting drunk, sitting in a room full of my fellow students, hating the noise, the smell, the taste of everything. I had vague recollections of Heather looking out for me. Vaguer ones of her stopping Shelly White from giving me a blowjob on the front lawn of Mackellar House during one particularly bleak bender.
“Jesus, you have no idea who it was who answered my phone, but you immediately leap to the conclusion I was fucking someone? What? Getting you out of my system with my dick? What kind of guy do you really think I am, Amanda?”
She flinched.
Guilt smashed into me. I closed my eyes, dragging my hands through my hair as I attempted another steadying breath. The first one hadn’t done its job, after all.
“Sorry,” I said, dropping my hands and opening my eyes again. “I’m sorry. That . . . I shouldn’t have said that.”
“If it helps, I didn’t think you were fucking me out of your system,” she said, a sheepish smile pulling at the edges of her lips. “I just . . . I just realized you’d done what I told you to do, which was to get back to your life. And even though I wanted you there with me, that realization helped me at that very second.”
“How?”
Her smile turned warm. Her eyes grew soft. “I started the car and drove away from the clinic and never went back. I knew then any child of yours would be all about living life to its fullest. And I wanted that in my life. I wanted your energy, your optimism, in my life. I wanted to be connected to it in the most unbreakable way imaginable.”
Remember how I said I’d always been able to tell what Amanda was feeling? But how, since arriving this time, I couldn’t? Now there was no denying what she was feeling. Not at all. It was all there, in her eyes. Sorrow, regret. And love. I could see it. I could feel it. Oh man, could I feel it.